So, why what? How do I put it into words without scaring her off? Why has it been years since she’s had sex? What happened, and who did it? Is she okay? How can I help her?
“What did he do?” is the question that finally comes. I’m not sure it’s the best option, especially when she stiffens in my arms.
“I think I’m gonna head out,” she replies quietly, her hands slipping through mine.
“What? No. No, I—” I watch as she makes her way to the door, looking for her slippers, and when she finds them, I grab them. “Don’t leave.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she lies. “I’m just tired.”
“No.” I tug her into me, burying her in my body while she puts up a half-assed fight. “Please, Jennie,” I whine. “Don’t leave me.”
She sighs, giving up the fight, letting me smother her in my hug. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
And so we don’t. We settle together on the couch, under piles of blankets, Jennie between my legs, her small hand fisting my shirt, as the Whos down in Whoville prepare for Christmas.
I shift my hoodie up her back, trailing my fingertips over her smooth skin. “Jennie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
A tired sigh, and she snuggles deeper, nuzzling into my chest. “Garrett?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for making me feel better today. I’m lucky to have you.”
But I think it’s me who’s the lucky one, and when she falls asleep ten minutes into the movie, I don’t wake her. I don’t wake her ’til after midnight, and even then, I’m considering saying fuck it.
Instead, I pick her up, wind her arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and take her back to her apartment, leaving with a kiss on her lips when she stirs, gazing up at me with a dazzling, sleep-drunk smile.
CHAPTER 18
THE F-WORD
GARRETT
East coast winters suck.
I don’t often find myself missing them, unless Vancouver has a particularly mild winter and pond hockey is off the table. I’ve been here two days and have spent hours whipping around the frozen pond with friends or taking my sisters out for a skate.
But right now I’m on my ass in the snow on the front lawn of my childhood home, getting pummeled by snowballs.
A particularly hard and icy one smacks me dead in the nuts, and I fall to my back, groaning.
“Oops,” Alexa says, which is how I know she did it on purpose.
“Garrett! Are you okay?” Gabby scrunches her nose, grits her teeth, and with a battle cry that echoes in the frigid air, charges at Alexa. The two of them collide, tumbling to the ground, shrieking as the snow swirls around them.
Stephie’s face appears overtop of me, blocking the sun. “Me and you are the only normal ones,” she says plainly, then tries to pull me up. She’s ten, all scrawny, gangly limbs, and probably seventy pounds soaking wet. I’m two hundred plus. The effort is there, but it’s not working.
I lie there lifeless, and eventually she gives up, dropping on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs.
She rolls off, lying beside me in the snow, and smiles. “I really miss you when you’re not here. I wish you could come home more.”
“I think we should convince Mom and Dad to move to Vancouver. Then we’d never have to miss each other.”
“Fat chance. Dad says you guys don’t have good lobster there.”
You can get good anything anywhere if you make as much money as I do, but there really is nothing like east coast lobster. It’s why I wound up wearing one of those plastic bibs last night at the Harbour Lobster Pound. Conversation was limited, the moaning at top peak. I ate so much I crashed early and missed Jennie’s call.
In fact, with our clashing schedules, we haven’t talked much since I last saw her. At least I get to see her during her recital tonight, even if it’s only on TV.
When the sun starts to dip, the chill in the air too damp to be fun anymore, we retreat to the warmth, and I text Jennie.
Me: Can’t wait to watch u kick ass. Hope u can hear my cheers from here, sunshine.
“Garrett’s texting his girlfriend!” Gabby shrieks as she leaps over the back of the couch and onto my back, trying to tackle me to the ground. “He called her sunshine!”
“She’s not my girlfriend, you little monster.” I wrap my arm around her head and tickle her ribs, laughing as she tries to fight me off. “Jennie’s just my friend.”
She spins out of my grasp and jumps to her feet. Breathless, she swipes her dark blonde hair from where it’s plastered to her cheeks. “Yeah, a friend you watch Christmas movies with and make ice cream sundaes for.” She sticks her tongue out, dashing away with a squeal when I lunge for her.
“Jennie,” Mom murmurs from where she’s working over the stove. She casts me a glance over her shoulder. “Not Jennie Beckett?”
When I don’t respond, her mouth gapes.
“Garrett Andersen, please tell me you’re not dating your captain’s little sister.”
“Okay. I’m not dating my captain’s little sister.”
She pops a fist on her hip, expression unamused.
“What? We’re not dating. We’re just friends.” Technically not a lie.
“Does Carter know you’re friends?”
“Uh, yeah. We live in the same building. He knows.” Still not a lie.
“Okay, let me rephrase my question. Does Carter know you’re watching movies at night with his little sister and making her ice cream sundaes?”
I cross my arms and look away, grumbling, “Shut up.” Gabby meets my gaze from where she’s partially hidden behind the wall. I point a finger at her. “You’re in trouble.”
A maniacal giggle leaves her mouth. “Alexa has a boyfriend too! Jacob Daniels!”
“Gabby!” Alexa shrieks.
“I saw them holding hands at recess!” Gabby screams, running down the hallway, bedroom door slamming shut moments before Alexa collides with it.
Stephie meets my gaze. “What’d I tell ya? The only normal ones.”
“What about you?” I poke her side. “Any boyfriends?”
Her cheeks blaze and she looks at her hands in her lap.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Her eyes lift, searching mine. “What if I want a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend?”
I tug her into my side, kissing her hair. “Then you want a girlfriend; that’s all there is to it.”
Stephie sinks against me, and the phone on the wall rings before my mom grabs it. My parents are the only people I know who still have a house phone.
Mom turns away, voice low. “Well, what time can we expect you? Your son is only home for a couple of days…I didn’t say that. I know you’re being safe. It’d just be nice if you could spend some more—okay, okay. We’ll see you when you get home.” She hangs up, giving me a tight smile.
“Everything okay?”
“Your dad’s going for dinner with the guys from work.”
I’m not surprised. He’s mostly made himself scarce since I got in yesterday morning. He picked me up from the airport, and it was an awkward drive home, forcing conversation that didn’t want to come.