Read Online The Rebound Guy by Fiona Harper - Free Book Online Page A

basketball. She straightened her blouse, took a deep breath and knocked.
    â€˜Come in.’ The voice was flat and expressionless. Did he know it was her?
    She pushed the door open and leaned her head inside. ‘Is now a good time? Because I can come back later if it’s more convenient. I don’t want to disturb you, so I’ll—’
    She was cut off by Jason’s short, sharp laugh. ‘You don’t want to disturb me?’
    He sounded incredulous. Sarcastic. That wasn’t good. Secretly she’d been hoping that over the weekend he’d turned back into the good old Jason who drove her crazy, who let anything negative roll off him. Unfortunately, the silent, surly, unsmiling Jason was still in residence.
    She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her, keeping her hands on the handle and her backside pressed against them. She opened her mouth but no words came. Jason cocked an eyebrow, apparently amused at her speechlessness. She swallowed and cleared her throat.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ she said a little hoarsely. ‘About what I said on Friday night. I overstepped the mark.’
    He stared back at her.
    â€˜I...I shouldn’t have flung stupid gossip back at you. I know nothing about it—’
    â€˜Seems you know all there is to know,’ Jason said, and spun his chair round to face the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the office. ‘You were right. It was my fault my brother ended up in a wheelchair.’
    Kelly discovered that while she was very good at dishing out the harsh truth, she hadn’t really had that much experience of being on the receiving end—unless you counted Dan, which she didn’t, because who ever listened to their brother?
    She was scared. Scared of what to say, what to do next. Was this how other people felt when she unleashed her tongue on them? Was this what the stunned silence after one of her outbursts meant? She wanted to run out of the room and pretend this conversation hadn’t started, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t a coward. She reminded herself she’d stared cancer in the face and won, so surely she could do this.
    She walked over to the bookcase where there was a picture of Jason with two other men. One was older and looked like a sterner, leaner version of her boss. He and Jason were both standing behind the other man, who was seated in a wheelchair. His features were different from Jason’s and his hair was a sandy blond, but she could tell this was his brother. There was something about the determination behind those eyes.... In the picture, Jason’s brother was wearing a sporting uniform and he had a large gold medal round his neck.
    â€˜What’s his event?’ she asked, and she heard Jason’s chair creak as he turned to see what she was doing.
    â€˜Swimming,’ he said, just a hint of surprise in his voice.
    â€˜Like you.’
    Jason snorted. ‘Not like me. Brad’s got the medals and I haven’t—and he does it without the use of his legs.’ He met her gaze. ‘Go on. Tell me how uncharitable I am. Tell me how childish I am to talk like that.’
    Kelly swallowed. She’d heard the bitterness in his voice. She knew all about sibling rivalry. With two thick-headed brothers to contend with, she’d had to grow up fighting, but the emptiness in Jason’s eyes spoke of something more. She looked at the picture again—how the older man’s hand rested comfortably on Brad’s shoulder, how Jason seemed as if he’d been slotted in afterwards, as if he could easily have been airbrushed out and the balance of the composition wouldn’t have been upset in any way.
    â€˜I don’t think you’re childish,’ she said. ‘I think you might have a chip on your shoulder the size of the Empire State Building, but I don’t think you’re childish.’
    Jason’s features softened from anger