CHAPTER 23
INDIANA BONES TO THE RESCUE
GARRETT
“You call that girl yet?”
My thumbs pause on my game controller and my heart skips a beat. “Huh?”
Emmett looks at me. “The photographer? The one Carter hooked you up with.”
“You’re welcome,” Carter mumbles around a carrot stick. Apparently Olivia’s on a health kick because she’s getting down on the way her body’s changing the later she gets in her pregnancy. She’s banned cookies from their house, and Carter’s trying to be supportive by not eating them. We’re at Emmett’s, and Olivia’s not here, so I’m impressed he’s sticking with it.
“Uh, no,” I finally answer, hoping we leave it at that.
“Why not?” Carter asks. “She seemed nice.”
“Yeah, Garrett,” Cara chimes from the kitchen. “Why not?”
“Uh, I donno.” I rub the back of my neck. I’m tired of doing this, dodging questions about my relationship status, or why I keep going back to my hotel room early and alone. “I don’t think we’d be a good match.”
“How do you know?” Emmett asks. “Maybe you’d really get along if you gave it a chance.”
“I just wasn’t feeling her.” I keep my eyes on the TV screen as my player nabs the puck then barrels down the ice.
“You’re never feeling anyone lately,” Emmett points out. “I don’t think I’ve seen you entertain anyone for the last two months.”
“Yeah, what gives?” Carter asks.
“How come nobody asks Adam these questions?” I grumble.
“Adam’s not here right now,” Emmett reminds me. “And he’s still sorting through his shit. And don’t even think about bringing up Jaxon. That guy’s got three girls in his lap on any given night.”
“Well, maybe I’m sorting through some shit too.”
“What shit?”
Sighing, I toss my controller to the coffee table. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Look, I’m seeing someone.” Cara’s infuriating, shit-eating grin comes into view, and I drop my gaze like it’s on fire. “Kinda, or whatever. It’s complicated.”
Carter dunks a carrot stick in a bowl of blue cheese dip. “Complicated how?”
“I don’t think she’s ready for a relationship. A bit of trust issues.” Not a lie.
He chomps away, mumbling, “Need welation-sip a-bice?”
“Relationship advice? From you? Absolutely not.”
“Why not? I’m great at relationships.”
I snort a laugh. “You’ve been in one.”
“Yeah, and I’m married to her, ’cause I fucking nailed it the first time around.”
Rolling my eyes, I fish my vibrating phone out of my pocket. A single sunshine lights my screen, and I hit Decline as I stand and stretch. “I’m gonna get going.”
“If you change your mind, you know where to reach me.”
I’m typing out a text to Jennie while carrying my glass to the kitchen when she calls again.
“Sunshine,” Cara murmurs over my shoulder, making me jump. “Who’s sunshine and why is she calling you?”
“Jesus Christ, Care. A little privacy?”
“I’ve never been good at that,” she muses, watching me load my glass into her dishwasher. “Seeing someone, huh?”
“It’s not what you think.”
Her smile is slow and scary, but she’s almost always scary. “And what do I think, Garrett?”
“Uh…” Is this a trap? “Nothing?”
She takes a step closer, then another, until I’m pressed against the counter, the word help! on the tip of my tongue.
“I think you and sunshine lied to me when you said it was a one-time thing. I think you’ve been fooling around for a while, maybe since she moved into your building. Quite ballsy of you, Andersen. I didn’t think you had it in you, Carter’s baby sister and all.”
“Shut up,” I seethe, gaze bouncing to the living room where Carter’s still preoccupied with his video game.
“You know what else I think?” She winds the strings of my hoodie around her fists, yanking me closer. “I think you have feelings for her now, and I bet that’s something you didn’t plan for.”
My phone buzzes against my chest, and when I pull it away, there’s that damn sunshine again.
“You better get outta here. Sunshine’s calling.”
I’ve never busted my ass so fast to get outside in the cold and all the snow, to get away from Cara. I start backing out of the driveway and connect my phone to my speakers to call Jennie.
“Garrett,” her strangled voice cries as soon as the call connects. “I need you.”
“Fuck.”
“He’s gonna kill me.”
“I mean…” I slip my fingers up my toque, scratching at my head. “It’s not that bad. The most important thing is you’re okay.”
I drag my gaze over Jennie for at least the tenth time in the last three minutes. My hands have roamed every inch of her, checking for damage. They came up empty, other than the kink in her neck and the finger gouges on the insides of her palm. But it’s the broken look in her eyes that says there’s damage I can’t see, damage that can’t be fixed with bandages.
“Garrett,” Jennie cries, gesturing at the front bumper of Carter’s Benz. “It’s awful! Look at that dent!”
“Tell me again what happened.”
“It was snowy and icy and I-I-I was having trouble seeing.” She swipes the cuffs of her sweater across her eyes, the skin around them red and raw. “I came up to a stop sign and I tried to brake but the tires just kept spinning, and someone was going through the intersection and I thought I was going to hit them, and then somehow, at the last second, the wheels turned, and I went up on the curb and hit the stop sign.”
I shake my head, sighing. “I wish you’d called me to come get you. You could’ve been hurt, Jennie, or worse. It’s not worth driving when you’re upset and anxious and the weather’s bad.”
Her lower lip trembles, hands wringing at her stomach.
Palming the back of her head, I haul her forward and kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry. I was just worried. I’m glad you’re safe.”
Worried doesn’t begin to describe how I was feeling twenty minutes ago. I flew home, blowing through two stop signs at empty intersections, and when I found her crying on the curb in the parking garage, I nearly suffocated her in my choking hold. Her feet left the ground and I didn’t put her down until she started pummeling her fists against my shoulders.
She averts her eyes. “I don’t want to drive anymore, not in the snow.”
“And you don’t have to. I’ll pick you up whenever I’m in town.”
Her gaze floats back up, wide eyes grateful but cautious. “You’d do that?”
“Of course. Now the real question is…” I crouch down, inspecting the dent in the bumper. “What are we gonna do about this?” I rub the pad of my thumb across my lower lip, and when an idea pops into my head, I don’t know if I’m a genius or deranged. “Go get Indiana Bones.”