“And are you opposed to violence?”
“Not at all.”
“Great.” She spins back to Kevin, her grin so expansive, so conniving as she steps into him. “Hey, Kevin?” she asks, syrupy sweet.
His eyes bounce between us. “Yeah?”
Her fist connects with his nose with a crack that echoes in the chilled air, along with the collective gasp from onlookers passing by.
She wipes the blood off her knuckles. “Go fuck yourself.”
As Emily loops her arm through mine, towing me away from the man clutching his face, the most startling revelation comes to light.
Despite that she’s slept with the man I’m falling for, I actually…like Emily.
CHAPTER 30
FALLING
GARRETT
Jennie’s Valentine’s present is about to be a goddamn Apple Watch so she can’t ignore my text messages anymore.
I’ve never been an impatient or needy kind of guy, and yet here I am, knocking on her door even though she hasn’t responded to a single text with whether I can come over yet. But I leave in two hours and fuck me, I’m coming over.
Though I’m a little shocked to see a smiling blonde greet me on the other side of the door. In fact, I turn all the way around to see if that concussion from November has royally fucked me and I’ve forgotten which side of the hall Jennie lives on.
“You’re in the right place, Casanova.”
“Then you’re in the wrong place,” I blurt, then promptly fold my lips into my mouth. I like Emily, but she’s about as scary as Jennie, and maybe a touch more violent. She could definitely take me if she wanted to. “Why are you here?” Not much better, Garrett. You’ll get ’em next time.
She steps aside, waving me in. “We went for lunch.”
I pause inside the door, midway through kicking off my shoes. “You’re the friend?”
Her grin is triumphant. “I’m the motherfucking friend.” She gathers her things. “I’m taking off. Thanks for hanging with me, Jen!”
Jen?
“Bye, Em!” Jennie calls from the kitchen, humming to the music drifting through the warm space. She smiles over her shoulder. “Hey, big guy. Sorry I didn’t reply earlier. I wanted to make you dinner before you left.” She pops up on her toes and kisses my lips, and I catch sight of the sizzling pan. “Coconut chicken curry over rice.”
“And she cooks too,” I murmur, tasting the spoon she offers. “Mmm, spicy.”
“I always make you food.”
“You always make me bowls of cereal.”
“You like cereal.”
“I like you.”
Jennie’s blush is electric, a rosy flush that climbs her neck like a vine, painting her creamy skin. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, focusing on the pan. “You also like Flamin’ hot Funyuns, so your judgment is flawed.”
Spying the dishes stacked on the edge of the small dining table, I ask, “Are we being fancy and sitting at the table for dinner?”
Cheeks still aflame, she lifts a lazy shoulder and lets it fall. She peeks sideways as I watch her, then sighs excessively, rolling her eyes. “Stop grinning like a jackass and go set the table.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I do as I’m told, even set the utensils up the way my gran taught me when I was a kid. Then I crack a fancy bottle of sparkling water, pouring it into champagne flutes and garnishing with lemon wedges.
Hands on my hips, chest puffed with pride, I step back and inspect my table setup. “Nailed it.”
Jennie giggles, shifting the pan to a back burner and turning off the stovetop. The music changes, her favorite song spilling out of the speakers, and she tucks her hair behind her ear before hitting me with a brilliant smile that nearly knocks the breath clean from my lungs.
She shimmies her way across the room and tugs on the pocket of my hoodie, mischief dancing in those overcast eyes. “C’mon, Gare-Bear. Dance with me.”
I hold my hand out, grinning when she slips hers into mine and starts pulling me around the living room. I let her, because, quite frankly, I’d do anything for this woman.
“I think I made a friend today,” she whispers as we sway.
I hug her tight. “I’m happy for you, Jennie.”
“I’m happy for me too.”
I drop my forehead to her shoulder, burying my face in her neck. “Hey, by the way, speaking of friends…there’s something I forgot to mention last night.” I press my lips to her silky skin, either to muffle the words or butter her up with a kiss; one of the two. “Adam knows.”
She pushes back to look at me. “Adam knows what?”
I’d rather not elaborate, so I just give her a look, real wide-eyed and innocent, hoping she’ll go easy on me.
“Garrett.”
“I’m sorry.” I nuzzle her neck. “It was an accident.”
“How did you accidentally let it slip that you like to fuck my mouth on days that end with Y?”
“When you put it that way it sounds a lot more difficult.”
“You’re terrible at keeping secrets,” she scolds but lays her cheek on my chest, snuggling close.
I stroke a hand down her braid. “Jennie?”
“Mmm?”
“You’re my favorite secret.”
She graces me with a detonating grin before pulling my face down to hers. “And you’re mine.”
I thread our fingers together and lift our clasped hands above her head. Jennie spins out, then twirls back into me. I catch her against my chest, chuckling at the unsteady way we sway for a moment before regaining our balance. The hearty sound catches in my throat at the way she peers up at me from beneath her lashes, her smile soft, sheepish.
She’s stunning, a beautiful soul, my best friend even though I wasn’t looking. And as we sway together, the music telling us how quickly we’re falling, how hard, the future that could lie before us if we let it, I realize how difficult the words on the tip of my tongue are becoming to swallow down.
Is she ready?
The look in her eyes tells me she’s afraid, but her fingers tangled in mine tell me she wants to jump, so long as I’ll be here to catch her.
I’ll always be here. Doesn’t she know that?
I sweep her braid over her shoulder and press a kiss right there, feeling her skin heat below my lingering lips. Brushing the pad of my thumb over the swell of her bottom lip, I make her a promise.
“You’re safe with me.”
Something in her eyes shifts, softening, opening. She places her hand over mine, sinking into my touch. “I know.”
Sunshine: If my vagina were a car, what kind of car would it be?
I pull up the search bar and type in the words I’m looking for. When I find an appropriate picture, I forward it to Jennie with the words after I’m done with it.
Her response comes exactly four seconds later.
Sunshine: Did you seriously send me a picture of a wrecked car?
It takes me a solid minute to type out my reply. I’m snickering so much I’m shaking.
Me: Get it? If ur vagina was a car, it’d be WRECKED after I was done with it *crying laughing emoji*
Sunshine: How old are you????
Me: Old enough to know how to wreck ur pussy and then make it feel better.