15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Gigi thought she’d be fine when Keith walked over. After all, getting him out of her life was a blessing—one she could only see in hindsight. But having him rub his engagement in her face, with no regard to her feelings, brought her back to that restaurant on Valentine’s Day, when she’d been abandoned and humiliated. An old wound ripped open, but it wasn’t because she wanted anything to do with Keith. His disregard had exposed her deep-seated fear of not being chosen, of not being good enough. She’d wanted to be with Keith, no matter how insane that sounded to her now. But he’d obviously been holding out for someone prettier, skinnier, and at least ten years younger than her.
Hurt washed through her. She had a strong urge to tell Keith off, but the words got stuck in her throat. And when Harris put his hand on her arm, she turned to him, pausing when she found his gaze a deeper green than she was used to. The strong lines of his face had gone sharp. His broad shoulders had somehow widened. He looked intense, menacing, like he might really drag Keith out in the back alley.
Her heart quivered. Was he concerned? Protective? Of her? Gigi knew what a catch Harris was—kind, intelligent, and incredibly handsome. He was a real man. Someone that would stand up for her, even if it was just as friends.
A crazy impulse shot through her, and it went straight to her mouth.
“This is my boyfriend,” Gigi announced, wanting Keith and his fruity fiancée to know she was worthy of someone who truly cared for her, someone like Harris. Though as soon as the lie escaped her, fear gripped her chest, especially as Harris’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought through the repercussions of her statement. The only person she truly cared about in this scenario was Harris, and she’d just put him in an incredibly uncomfortable situation.
But just as quickly as his eyes had widened, the surprise swept from Harris’s face.
“That’s right,” he said, giving her a squeeze of support with his hand. “I’m Gigi’s boyfriend, Harris.” Then he turned to Keith, smiling sharply, like a shark about to rip into a seal. He zoned in on Keith and rose from his chair, his full frame soon a head higher than her ex’s, and with the two of them face-to-face, Gigi was acutely aware of their differences. Keith wasn’t in the same league as Harris. Not even close. He couldn’t touch Harris’s class, intelligence, or wit with a ten-foot pole.
“And who are you?” Harris asked, extending his hand to shake Keith’s.
“Uh-uh . . . Keith. Keith McCleod.” He stuttered while enduring Harris’s stiff handshake, which hauled him forward a step. Keith took his hand back, wiggling his fingers like they’d lost circulation.
“I got that much. I meant, who are you to Gigi?” Harris asked, and Gigi stifled a laugh.
“We, uh. Gigi and I dated.”
Harris made a dismissive noise, deep in his throat. “That’s funny. She’s never mentioned you.”
“You guys just started dating then?” Keith’s mouth went to a straight line, and Gigi chuckled, wondering if he came out of the womb, thinking the world revolved around him.
“We started dating back in February. The day after Valentine’s Day.” Harris licked his bottom lip, like he enjoyed playing with Keith. “But it feels like we’ve been together forever. Right, baby?”
Gigi smiled, thoroughly enjoying the show and how it sounded when Harris called her “baby.” “Feels like it’s been forever,” she replied, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table. She held Harris’s gaze, feeling her confidence creeping back in.
“Right after Valentine’s Day?” Keith’s voice went up an octave. “How . . . how’d you guys meet?”
Harris stared intently at Gigi, looking straight into her soul, and she wondered if he’d ever been an actor. Because he was playing this up. He should win an Oscar for this performance. Gigi was going to buy him a trophy. She barely remembered what Keith had asked until Harris spun a story.
“At a bookstore,” Harris said, smirking playfully at Gigi. “We both reached for a book at the same time. Our hands touched, and Gigi spilled her coffee on me. I was smitten. I’d never been so happy to have hot coffee soaking my shirt and burning my chest.”
Gigi’s grin skated into a full smile. She laughed, wanting to play along. “The book was a special edition of The Great Gatsby ,” she added, keeping her voice steady. “The publisher had just released it that day, and we were both desperate to find a copy.”
“Instead, we found each other.”
“It was fate.”
A spark—a real one—shot between them. The current zipped up and down her spine, and Gigi swallowed. She’d never been this drawn to anyone in her life, and for a second, she let herself hang out in that space. After all, she was currently pretending to be Harris’s girlfriend.
“I’m beyond lucky that fate intervened, sending me to a bookstore I’d never been to before, just so I could meet this beautiful woman,” Harris added. “We started talking about the book, and before we knew it, an entire evening had passed. We’ve been inseparable since.”
“Seriously?” Apple leaned in, her eyes wide with curiosity. “That is so romantic!”
Harris grinned, his gaze never leaving Gigi’s. “It was. It is. Gigi’s incredible. I could never let her slip away. Only an idiot would.”
Keith cleared his throat, looking annoyed. “Well, that’s . . . just wonderful.”
Harris’s lips tilted into a crooked smile. Gigi returned it, warmth filling her like the first bite of freshly baked bread. Strangely enough, she hoped Keith and Apple would stick around so she could continue this charade with Harris. She didn’t want him to stop looking at her like he was.
Just then, the host announced a break in the trivia game. Lively music started playing over the bar’s speakers, and the first few chords were instantly recognizable. A group of girls cheered at a table near the bar.
“Do you hear that?” Harris asked Gigi, his gaze tipping upward like musical notes played above his head. “They’re playing our song.”
Keith’s face scrunched in confusion. His arm dropped from Apple’s shoulders. “Your song is Shania Twain’s ‘I Feel Like a Woman’?”
Gigi couldn’t help but to laugh. It bubbled up from her belly.
“It’s an inside joke. You’d never get it.” Harris shrugged at Keith before reaching for Gigi. “Dance with me?”
Gigi stood from her chair, placing her hand in Harris’s, a sense of peace and gratitude swirling in her chest. “I’d love to.”
Locking her fingers with his, Gigi followed Harris, leaving Keith and Apple behind. He guided her to an open space between a few tables and the bar. With a firm but tender touch, he drew her close. One hand clasped hers, the other settled on her waist, and he swayed them into a slow rhythm that had nothing to do with the upbeat song.
“That should shut him up.” His face was all hard lines and his gaze flicked past her, toward Keith. Though she didn’t care about Keith anymore. Harris was with her, holding her, making her feel special. This was where she wanted to be, and who she wanted to focus on.
“Thank you for doing that. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
His gaze shifted back to hers. “Don’t apologize. I wanted to take that guy into the back alley and give him a knuckle sandwich, remember? You saved me from jail.” With a blink, his hard stare went soft, making her knees weak as Jell-O.
“You make an amazing fake boyfriend,” she said, trying to tamp the longing in her voice. Could Harris tell she was imagining what it would be like to be together, for real?
He pressed his lips together, keeping his thoughts to himself. His fingers curled on her waist, pulling her closer, and Gigi’s heart bounded as she eased into his embrace. Her body conformed to his. Her heart thumped against his solid chest, keeping time with the erratic drums and electric guitars popping over the speakers.
There’s something real here, right? She couldn’t be that crazy. Harris couldn’t be that good of an actor. Whatever it was, Gigi lost herself in it. She lost herself in Harris. She set her cheek on his chest, and they swayed to the music. Before she knew it, Shania sung the last chorus, leaving Gigi wishing for an encore. “I Feel Like a Woman” had taken on a whole new meaning for her.
Gigi picked up her head, looking at Harris. “I liked that even better than trivia,” she whispered as the music faded.
“I did too,” he replied, holding her even though the song was done. “And I really enjoyed our trivia game.”
Butterflies the size of pigeons swarmed her belly. Just then, a slow song started, reigniting Gigi’s hope to stay in Harris’s embrace.
Harris shifted, his cheek dipping close to hers as he asked, “Stay with me for another dance?” His breath tickled her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Anticipation snatched at her chest.
“Okay,” she said, surprised to hear a tremor in her answer, but Harris didn’t let her focus on the waver. He guided both her hands to the back of his neck before looping his arms around her middle. Then he took hold of her, using his height to draw her in, bending her back ever so slightly, bringing their faces inches apart.
“Gigi,” he started, his voice low and intimate, touching Gigi in all the right spots. “You deserve to be treated like a queen, always. I hope you know that.”
She went speechless. Shortly after, they’d stopped swaying, fully wrapped up in each other, their gazes tied together with an invisible rope. This close, Gigi could count every emerald fleck and streak of blue in Harris’s soulful eyes. They captured her and drew her in like a powerful river current.
His arms tightened, pulling her impossibly closer. Heat radiated from his body. Or was that hers? Their hearts beat in sync—against each other—and her gaze flicked to his lips. Would he kiss her? Because that was all she was thinking about.
Leaning in, Harris gave Gigi’s heart a start. But instead of meeting her lips, he shifted course, grazing her neck with his soft mouth as he whispered, “I won’t kiss you like this.”
His warm breath. The brush of his lips. His velvet voice.
Goosebumps rushed over her, all the way to her toes. She was putty in his hands. Her body arched back, trusting entirely in Harris to keep her from falling.
“How would you kiss me?” she countered, breathless.
Harris took entirely too long to reply. “If I kiss you, it needs to be special, and at the right time. Most importantly, it can’t be fake. I want to kiss you, Gigi. That’s real. But I need to be one hundred percent certain it’s what you want too.”
For a moment, she was lost in the shock wave of his whispers, knowing that he wanted to kiss her too. Then, with a surge of courage, Gigi said, “I’m one hundred percent certain, Harris. Take me somewhere to kiss me.”