Rules fucking suck. Not kissing her is hard, but the hardest part is not holding her hand.
It only gets harder as we ride through Stanley Park on the open-air train, cruising through the trail lit with twinkling lights. All I wanna do is pull her into my side, feel the warmth of her body spreading to mine.
“Good call on wearing my warm coat, Gare-Bear.”
“Told you your pretty coat wouldn’t do.”
“So you’re saying this one’s not pretty?”
“I—what?” I nudge her side. “I’m not walking into your trap, Beckett.”
Jennie chuckles softly, shifting closer, resting her arm against mine. “I wish I had a mug of your hot chocolate. You make the best kind.”
“Half a bag of mini-marshmallows and a couple mouthfuls of the hot stuff?”
“Yeah.” Her sigh is wistful as she stares out at the trees, the lights, the stars that dance above us. “Thank you, Garrett. This is the best date I’ve ever been on.”
I huff a laugh. “It’s the only one you’ve ever been on.”
“Yeah, the competition is nonexistent.” She slips her mitt off and carefully hooks her pinky around mine before turning her gaze back out on the way this Vancouver night glows. Then she murmurs, “I think it’d still be the best.”
“Can we get popcorn, Garrett?”
“We can get popcorn, Jennie.”
“Can we get extra butter on the popcorn?”
“We can get extra butter on the popcorn.”
Jennie spins around, eyes sparkling. “What about Skittles? I like the tropical kind. Do you want to share a drink? Maybe root beer? I haven’t had it in years.”
I chuckle, making a mental note to plan more movie dates in the future. Her happiness is contagious, and all I want to do is feed it.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket.
“Is that my brother again?”
“Yup.” It’s the fourth time he’s texted tonight, and the question is the same every time.
Carter: what r u doing now?
If I don’t respond within the first minute, he sends me exactly seven question marks, so I’ve learned to be quick. It helps, because if I’m replying to his texts, it means my hands aren’t anywhere they’re not supposed to be.
Loaded up with snacks, we hike up the stairs of the theater, finding two private seats off to the side, right next to the aisle.
We’re halfway through the popcorn before the trailers are even finished, and Jennie conveniently misses the bag on her next grab, grazing my dick.
“Oops.” She snickers. “Didn’t see you there, big guy.”
“Keep it up and we won’t even make it out of the parking lot before Indiana Bones is raiding your temple, sunshine,” I mumble, stuffing a handful of popcorn in my mouth. “I’ll have you sprawled out over the leather while you scream for me.”
Beside me, Jennie stiffens, and I’m about to apologize if I’ve taken it too far, but her eyes are glued to a group of guys heading up the stairs. Her hand leaves my thigh, gripping the armrest between us, and her chest lifts and falls rapidly.
I nudge her shoulder with mine. “You okay?”
She swallows as the men climb closer. “I want to go home.”
“What?”
One of the guys looks our way, a slow smile spreading as he spins his backward hat to the front.
Jennie turns quickly, knocking the popcorn off my lap. “Shit. Shit.”
“Hey, what’s going—”
“Garrett, please.” Her eyes meet mine, frantic, pleading. “I want to go home.”
“Jennie fucking Beckett.” The douchefuck wearing the Toronto Maple Leaf hat stops beside us, grinning down at Jennie. “Shit, it’s been, what? Six years, give or take?”
She doesn’t answer, just stares up at him, hands balled into fists.
“You look good. We should hang sometime. I’ve missed you.” He laughs lowly, looking back at the screen where the previews are still playing. “You know, I always thought it’d be you up there on the big screen.”
Jennie’s fingernails dig into the armrest.
I don’t know who this guy is, but when his gaze settles on mine, arrogant and amused, I’m about this close to punching a person I’ve never met before in the face. In fact, I already hate him more than Simon.
“What’s up, man?” He extends a hand. “I’m Kevin.”
“I don’t really give a fuck who you are.”
His smile falters. “What?”
“You heard me.” I gesture at Jennie. “You’re clearly making her uncomfortable, so you need to go.”
He barks an incredulous laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not making you uncomfortable, Jen, am I?” When he reaches down and brushes his thumb across her chin, all I see is red. “Fuck, I always loved this mouth.”
I’m out of my seat before my brain even sends the message for my feet to move, and I step in front of Jennie, shoving Kevin backward.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” I growl as Jennie’s hand slips up the back of my hoodie, gripping a fistful of my shirt, tugging me closer. “Don’t fucking talk to her. Don’t even fucking look at her.”
“Easy.” Kevin’s hands come up in surrender. “We go way back.”
“Then there’s a good fucking reason you aren’t in her life anymore.” I scoop up our coats, grab Jennie’s hand, and pull her out of her seat. “Come near her again and you’ll need your face reconstructed.”
Her hand trembles in mine as I march into the parking lot, and I’m busy chanting to myself in my head about how I need to calm the fuck down. I don’t want Jennie feeding off my energy right now, not when she needs to feel safe.
I all but stuff her in the passenger seat, then take a moment in the bitter, damp night air to tamp down on the urge to go back in there and knock Kevin’s teeth out for whatever he did to make this wild girl question all her best parts, to stomp on her trust to the point that she’s wary to ever give it out again.
Inside the car, Jennie quivers, small hands shaking on her thighs. I cover one in mine, and just like that, her body stills as she looks down at our clasped hands.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. She shakes her head and I bring her knuckles to my lips. “Let’s go home.”
I don’t know what she needs from me, but I know I want to give it to her. Snuggles on the couch? Sure. Back tickle in bed? You got it. Fuck, I’ll even give her space if she asks me twice.
What I don’t expect is for her to bypass my hand as it reaches for her floor in the elevator, to press for mine instead, keying in the penthouse code.
I don’t expect her to kick off her shoes inside my door and look me in the eye as she unbuttons her jeans. I don’t expect her to slide them over her hips and drop them to the ground before she takes my face in her cold, trembling hands and fuses our mouths together.
My hands slip under her shirt and glide over her back, pulling her against me. She sighs, tilting her head back when my mouth moves down her chin, over the columns of her throat. I hoist her up to me, winding her legs around my waist, carrying her to my bedroom.