Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland - Rebel 2. Rebel Heart.pdf

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PENELOPE WARD
&
VI KEELAND
REBEL 2.
REBEL HEART
1
I thought I might pass out. The room started to
spin, and I had to grab onto Rush‘s arm to steady
myself.
―Gia? You okay?‖
When I opened my mouth to speak, a burn traveled
up through my throat, a prelude to what I feared
might be vomit following behind. I slapped my
hand over my mouth, and somehow managed to
mumble a coherent word. ―Bathroom.‖
Rush guided me to a bathroom down a long
hallway and tried to come in with me. He looked
as nervous as I felt. I put my hand on his chest,
stopping him from crowding into the little room
with me. ―I‘m fine. Just give me a few minutes
alone. It‘s just the morning sickness and my
nerves.‖
―You sure?‖
I nodded and forced a half-assed smile before
locking myself into the bathroom. Sliding down
the closed door, I sat on the floor with my head in
my hands and started to hyperventilate.
It isn’t possible.
My eyes are playing tricks on me.
2
Hormones. It’s definitely the hormones.
I‘d only seen Harlan that one night—months ago
now.
But Rush‘s brother looked
so much
like him.
Those green eyes.
Perfectly tanned skin.
Square jaw.
Impeccably coiffed hair parted to the side.
But he wouldn’t have been at The Heights.
Rush and his brother despise each other.
There is
no way
that he came to hang out in the
Hamptons.
And…the guy I’d been with was named Harlan, not
Elliott.
Although…
I‘d always felt like it was a distinct possibility the
guy had lied about his name. Something about the
way he‘d said
Harlan
struck me as off for some
odd reason—like it hadn‘t rolled off his tongue as
it should have. His speech pattern had been
smooth, just like his lines, when he‘d walked over
and sat down beside me at the bar. But when he‘d
said his name, it came out with almost a bit of a
stutter.
I suppose Elliott could have come out to the
Hamptons to speak to his brother that night.
Although there was definitely no sign of Rush
3
when I‘d met my one-night stand. And Rush is
not
the type of man I‘d forget seeing.
The longer I sat on the floor, the more I made my
head spin. I flipped back and forth from
of course
it’s him
to
it can’t possibly be him
two dozen times
in the span of five minutes.
A soft knock made me jump and hit my head back
against the door.
―Gia. You okay, babe?‖
The tenderness in Rush‘s voice made the tears start
to flow.
God, what the fuck?
This couldn‘t be
happening to me. It was bad enough that I got
myself pregnant with a one-night stand—it
couldn‘t be
that
man.
Thirty seconds passed, and he knocked louder.
―Gia?‖
I had no doubt he would break down the door if I
didn‘t answer immediately. ―I‘m good,‖ I squeaked
out. ―Just a little nauseous. I‘ll be out in a few.‖
Over the next five minutes, I talked myself into
believing that I had been wrong. Elliott wasn‘t
Harlan. That would be ludicrous. I‘d had a drink or
two that night. It was someone who
looked
like
him—from across the span of a wide room. Once I
got up close, I‘d realize he looked nothing like the
man I‘d slept with.
There were no other options to believe in here.
4
Eventually, after two more check-ins from Rush, a
silent cry, and washing my face, I opened the door.
Rush‘s hair told me he‘d been yanking at the
strands with worry. I reached out and patted the
pieces down that stuck up.
―I‘m okay. Sorry. That…just sort of came out of
nowhere.‖
Rush breathed out a sigh of relief. ―I‘m going to be
fucking useless in the delivery room. I can‘t even
handle that you feel sick because I‘m so worried
that something is wrong.‖
My heart twisted in my chest. ―You…you want to
be in the delivery room with me?‖
Rush‘s brows drew down. ―Of course. I guess I
just assumed I would be.‖
I looked back and forth between his eyes and felt
myself getting choked up again. This time for a
totally different reason. The man standing before
me was truly amazing. He said the most beautiful
things without even knowing it. Rush didn‘t give
his heart easily, but when he did—he gave a
hundred and ten percent. He really was in this with
me.
The pad of his thumb gently wiped away a tear that
slipped down my cheek. ―I don‘t have to be if you
don‘t want me to be. Don‘t cry.‖
5

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