Chapter 10
ten
Georgia
Last night, with my longing in full effect, I didn’t silence my phone before going to bed in hopes Cash might text me. Some ten hours later, I finally get what I want, the sound pulling me out of sleep.
CASH: Your lips.
GEORGIA: Um, good morning. What about them?
CASH: Your lips.
GEORGIA: So you said.
CASH: Oh, sorry. Your lips are all I can think about.
CASH: All I can talk about.
CASH: All I can type about.
GEORGIA: All you can talk about? So the whole school knows we kissed last night?
CASH: Not yet. So far, I’ve only told Mr. Jangles and the stuffed animals on my bed. Swear to god they’re not gossips.
CASH: But if you want me to stop there, you’re probably gonna need to kiss me again. Otherwise all this mouth is gonna do is talk about your lips.
As I stumble out of bed and brush my teeth, lips are all I can think about too. Cash’s and how soft and skilled and perfect they are; mine and how they refuse to drop the smile they’re wearing.
The house is delightfully quiet, Maisy having spent the night at Willow’s, and I settle into the big couch in the living room to sip coffee and stare out the window.
It’s a gray morning but beautiful in its way, the tall grasses that line the driveway stooped and heavy with snow.
The only disruption to the calm comes when I think of Maisy.
I have to tell her Cash and I kissed. Not because I owe her that information, but because I want it to happen again.
Whatever’s building between us, I can’t deny it, and I don’t want to.
Besides, once she gets over the awkwardness, she’ll be happy for me.
What I feel for Cash is too powerful to write off as simple attraction, and I want to share it with my friend.
A chime sounds from my phone, and I snatch it up, expecting another message from Cash. Instead, Maisy’s name lights up the screen. I hate the way my heart plummets to my stomach, though it kicks right back up when I read her message.
MAISY: I’ll be home around ten!
Shit. That only gives me an hour to make breakfast. Deserting my cozy spot on the couch, I head to the kitchen and rifle around for a waffle maker.
When I come up short, I pivot to pancakes, and by the time Maisy walks in with her beautifully smudged eyeliner, I already have a plate of steaming pancakes on the counter for her.
“Look at you, happy girl,” she says. Have I stopped smiling once since I woke up? “Plain pancakes?” She peers at the plate and pretends to turn up her nose. “Where’s the cinnamon? The blueberries? The compound butter? I thought you were better than this, Georgia.”
“There’s beauty in simplicity. Besides, I infused the syrup with French vanilla beans, if you’re too good for plain.”
Without sitting down, Maisy rolls up a warm pancake and pops it into her mouth. Her eyes close dramatically. “Holy shit,” she says with a full mouth. “These are unreal.”
“Well, sit and stay awhile. I want to hear about your night.”
She plops down on a stool as a wicked smile lights her face and she reaches for another pancake. “More where this came from?”
“Plenty. You burn a lot of calories last night?”
“Willow’s amazing. She’s gorgeous, don’t you think?”
I ladle two more pancakes into the pan. “Beautiful. So there’s going to be a date number two?”
“I don’t know if last night counts as a date, but yes. Definitely.”
“Just being together is a date.” My mind strays to my hours spent with Cash. The dancing, the renovation plans, even the hardware store. I wouldn’t trade a minute of that for the fanciest dinner date.
With the pancakes done, I take a stool next to Maisy and dig into my plate.
“You had a good time last night?”
I swallow a mouthful. “Can’t believe it, but I did.”
“I see my brother actually got you on the dance floor? You’ve got moves, girl!”
It’s an unwinnable battle to fight the heat spreading through me at the memory. “You weren’t kidding when you said he’s charming.” Now’s the time to tell her. “Actually—”
“Georgia, one thing I need to warn you about.” Maisy picks at the edge of a pancake with her fork before pinning me to my spot with her stare.
My stomach does an unpleasant flip. I don’t want to hear the he-flirts-with-everyone speech, aka the you’re-not-special warning. “Okay.”
“I hate being the controlling friend. Seriously. But Cash has been my brother since, well, birth, and I’ve had to learn some things the hard way. So I need you to know that I don’t let my friends date him.”
I stare at her, waiting and hoping for a smile or at least some lightness in her eyes that tells me she’s joking. Or if not joking, that she’s willing to be argued with. Finding none of that, all I manage to say is “Oh.”
“I saw the way he was flirting with you all night, and it’s fine,” she blurts, dragging her fork through the pool of syrup on her plate.
“I get it, there’s a little spark between you guys.
No biggie.” She clears her throat. “But I can’t deal with anything more than that.
It always gets messy. You know what I mean? ”
I can’t name the feeling that pulls my insides straight down to the floor, because I’ve never felt it before. But the taste of maple syrup on my tongue is suddenly sickening, and I have to take a gulp of water before I can say anything. “I guess I do.”
“Good. I figured you would.” The stool screeches across the floor as she pushes back and stands to refill her water glass, taking mine with her. “What’s up with this faucet?” She cranes her neck to inspect it, which is spitting water from its base.
“It’s been doing that.” The Cash matter could end right there, no more questions, no more awkwardness.
Clearly that’s Maisy’s preference. And if her brother were anyone else—anyone other than the guy who’s unleashed a dozen new and unnameable feelings in me in a matter of days, I wouldn’t give a damn.
But I know as I stare at her back that I can’t let him go that easily.
“Actually,” I say when she sets my filled glass in front of me, “I lied. I don’t have siblings, so the truth is, I don’t know what you mean. ”
Maisy sighs and sits back down. “I used to be cool with it—tried to be, at least. I mean, as soon as we were in middle school, my friends had crushes on Cash. It wasn’t that big of a deal, just annoying because my entire life, Cash has been the kid everyone loves and finds adorable and charming and all that, but it was fine until we got to high school.
That’s when I had friends start hooking up with him, and then things would go bad between the two of them, and then my friendship was awkward.
I can’t tell you how many friends he’s cost me. ”
Ouch.
“And look, this part isn’t Cash’s fault, but twice in high school, I had girls befriend me for the sole purpose of getting close to him. Literally, that was their whole plan. I didn’t find out for months that every time they slept over, they were sneaking into his room.”
“That’s awful.”
“It was. So completely humiliating when I found out. And Cash just…” She shakes her head. “He never understood. He was always so overprotective in every other way, but with this stuff? He just didn’t get it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Look, obviously you didn’t befriend me to get close to my brother. I get that, and I’m not accusing you of anything. But that’s my rule. I hope you understand.”
I rub the back of her hand. “I understand. Totally.” And I do.
I can’t blame her for having a rule. What I don’t understand is how on earth I’m going to see Cash Hartnell again—work side by side with him in a big, empty house while he flirts and jokes and offers up that perfect smile—and find the strength to follow her rule.
After we clean up the kitchen, Maisy heads to her room for a nap, and I drop onto my bed, depleted of energy. I tell myself I’m only reaching for my phone to check it like I always do, but it’s a lie.
And sure enough, he’s texted.
CASH: Your lips.
Heaviness washes over me. Even responding to the text feels wrong. Yet I still like his message and type out my own.
GEORGIA: Are we still meeting tomorrow to work on the house?
CASH: Today, tomorrow, next year, forever—wherever you want me, I’m there, darling.
Oh, Cash. An ache burrows into my chest. I don’t blame Maisy. But I don’t blame all those friends of hers either.