29. Did I Just Make A Friend?
JENNIE
“No hair gel,” I murmur, rifling through the drawer. “Seriously? It looks that good all on its own? Un-fucking-believable.”
It’s surprisingly tidy in here for a bachelor’s bathroom. I’d be impressed, except I can’t find what I’m looking for, so annoyance is winning by a landslide.
So far, his vanity has yielded an unholy amount of Q-tips, those flossing sticks instead of the thread, which immediately ups Garrett a few notches, and an array of hair trimmers.
They’re all different, but I can’t fathom why he needs so many.
I shouldn’t complain; whatever he’s doing with his facial hair is working for me.
I quite enjoy the way it tickles between my thighs.
I examine a bottle of cologne before spritzing it on my T-shirt. It’s technically Garrett’s, so it already smells like him, but a little more won’t hurt.
“Oooh.” I pull the cotton to my nose, inhaling. He smells like heaven always, fresh like citrus from his shower, but the cologne adds an earthy smell, the kind that has me picturing him out in the woods in a plaid flannel, wielding an axe. “So good.”
“Snooping?”
Yelping, I slam the drawer shut, turning to find Garrett in the doorway. He’s naked, which is distracting. Lieutenant Johnson is super rock hard and massive, waving hello, which is extremely fucking distracting.
“Snooping? No. Me? No.” My arm flails in the direction of the countertop, where his things are spread, and I accidentally swipe his cologne clear off it. It’s in a pretty glass bottle, and I can’t pronounce the name, so I likely can’t afford to replace it if it smashes at our feet.
Probably why I fling myself forward, arms outstretched.
Garrett simply holds out his hand and catches the bottle, cradling it into his chest, and I go crashing into him.
“Are you all right?” He’s not asking if I’m physically intact and pain-free. He’s questioning my sanity, and his tone indicates he finds it humorous.
“I was looking for a toothbrush.” I bury the words against his collarbone. “I can’t kiss you with morning breath. That’s disgusting.”
His blue-green eyes are hazy, heavy with sleep as he stares down at me.
If his sleep was anything like mine, it was glorious.
I haven’t slept so deep in ages as I did with Garrett’s warm body locked around mine all night, his hand splayed over my stomach, face buried in my neck.
He’s really the biggest snuggle bear ever, and I think I might be too.
He releases me and moves to the counter, tucking his cologne away and producing a small woven basket. Inside is a packaged pink toothbrush, hair ties, deodorant, lip balm, makeup remover wipes, and a small box of tampons.
A knot clenches in my stomach like an angry fist. My attempt to tamp down the surge of jealousy moving through me is unsuccessful. I swallow and plant a forced smile on my lips. “You keep feminine products here for the girls you have over?”
Two lines appear between his eyebrows when they quirk. Garrett leans over me, pulling out his toothpaste and depositing it in my hand.
“No.” He hooks his thumb under my chin and lifts my mouth to his, kissing me deeply. “I keep feminine products here for you.” He claps a hand to my ass before sauntering back into the bedroom, unbelievable hockey butt swinging back and forth as he goes.
“Ugh,” he groans, snagging his sweatpants from the floor. He peeks over his shoulder, teasing smile playing at his lips. “Your morning breath is gross.”
* * *
Dancing has been my life for as long as I’ve known, but when I lost my dad, it became my savior.
It was the only way I could get lost, step outside of my life, my nightmares, and rise above it, even if only for as long as the song lasts.
It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m with; I close my eyes and the music takes me wherever I want to be.
Two hands wrap around my waist before I’m in the air, wind fluttering at my face as Simon spins the both of us.
When my feet touch the ground, I dash across the stage, the lyrics to my favorite song chasing at my heels.
My body soars as I leap through the air as James Arthur sings about two people falling in love the way stars fall from the sky, and Garrett’s face floods my mind.
I’m caught off guard by the vision, and a shiver of apprehension rockets through me at the meaning behind it.
I’ve never been in love. I thought I was, and when Kevin broke my heart, I thought love was the reason it hurt so much.
But over the years, I’ve realized that’s not what it was.
I was just a girl, someone who longed for acceptance, intimacy, and I latched onto what he gave me.
It wasn’t love; it was a lesson learned.
What I have with Garrett feels…different. Unique and fleeting, something you don’t let go of. But I’m only one-half of a whole; I can’t control when someone else wants to let go. Quite frankly, walking into something with that logic is frightening.
I’m learning to keep my shoulders back, to take the steps even when I’m uncertain.
Thing is, though, as shaky as the steps may be, they don’t feel all that uncertain when that man is the one waiting at the destination.
A hand clasps mine, and Simon smiles at me when my eyes snap open.
He spins me into him, pulling me against his chest, and his eyes drop to my lips as his face hovers above mine, inching closer as the song drifts to an end.
My pulse thunders as silence encases us, though I know he won’t close the gap.
When applause echoes through the auditorium, we break apart, both of us breathless and sweaty.
Mikhail wipes at nonexistent tears. “Beautiful. Absolutely stunning .” He climbs the steps at side stage. “Simon, the emotion is on point. You look absolutely enthralled with Miss Beckett. Jennie, you look a teensy bit scared of Simon, but it works, like your love for each other is daunting.”
“Yeah, daunting.” I swipe my hair off my damp neck. “That’s definitely it.”
“My diamond dazzlers,” he murmurs, chin resting on his fist as he stares at us. “And Jennie, you’re still not feeling the kiss at the end?”
“Still not feeling it.”
He raises his hands in defeat. “Well, okay. I think you two have got this thing nailed down anyway. You’d never know you aren’t a real couple.
” He checks his watch. “Okay, I’ve got a meeting in ten and a lunch date later at Rapscallion.
You two should head home for some rest. You’ve earned it. Let’s not stretch ourselves.”
“Thanks, Mik.” I grab my yoga pants and wiggle them over my ass. “Make sure you get the oysters. They’re—” I bring the tips of my fingers to my lips, kissing them, “—chef’s kiss.”
Simon snakes his arm around my shoulders when I’m finished dressing. “Wanna grab some lunch? Mexican? Italian? Oooh, what about Thai?”
My stomach grumbles. “I could absolutely fuck with some Thai, but I’m heading to Hank’s with Carter.”
“Dinner?’
“Can’t.” I’ve got a large and extremely sexy hockey player at home who flies out later tonight. I plan to make use of our fleeting hours.
Simon puts his hand over his heart. “You’re killing me, Beckett.”
There’s an easiness to my laugh. Things have been smooth sailing with Simon since his apology. Our upcoming show means lots of late nights together practicing and finishing on the floor of the studio with a box of takeout. Things have been perfectly platonic, and it feels nice to have a friend.
“We can do Thai tomorrow,” I tell him.
“Deal.” With a hug, he sends me through the front door, where Carter is waiting by the curb.
“ Jennie ,” Carter calls rather loudly, arms waving. “Jennie! I’m right here!” His legs eat the distance between us as he scowls at Simon. “Jennie,” he scolds, tucking me beneath his arm. “What have I told you about hanging out with douchebags?”
“Don’t?”
“That’s fucking right.” He opens my door and gives Simon a dazzling smile. “Bye, Steve!”
Carter’s overprotective dad-bro stints—especially the ones where he’s intent on embarrassing me via shouting my names and waving like one of those wacky inflatable flailing arm things you see at car dealerships—are beyond irritating, but I’m too happy to care right now.
He’s been especially suffocating since the movie theater shitstorm with Kevin.
He blames himself, which is absurd, but Carter’s always been one to think he could’ve somehow been better.
He thinks he should’ve dropped everything to be with me when Garrett mentioned I had a bad day.
The only good thing to come out of this is Carter not questioning me and Garrett getting closer as friends.
Anyway, Carter’s been extra attentive, which means by the time we’re at Hank’s, I’m unwrapping my breakfast sandwich from McDonald’s while sipping my apple crisp macchiato from Starbucks, because Carter went through two different drive-thrus for me.
“How come she got Starbucks and I’m drinking McDonald’s coffee?” Hank grumbles.
“You like McDonald’s coffee! You said you prefer it!”
“I think you’re making things up,” Hank argues, nudging me with his elbow when Carter sighs loudly. “Riling him up is so much fun.”
“I totally agree.” I slip Dublin a bite of my hash brown. “That’s why you and I are such great friends.”
“So how come Carter picked you up today? Didn’t he lend you one of his cars?”
“It’s snowy today. I get anxious driving in the snow.” And sometimes I accidentally run into stop signs in my brother’s hundred-thousand-dollar Benz; sue me.
Hank’s hand searches for mine. He squeezes, and so does my heart. “That’s okay, sweetheart. You drive when you feel comfortable.”
“In the spring, I think.”
“Well, how you gonna get to school then?” Carter asks, huffing.