Chapter 24
VANESSA
“No.”
“But—”
“They don’t play well together.”
“I—”
“That lionfish will destroy them. Do you want to be responsible for the death of my sweet little clown fish? You already thought you killed them once and could barely live with yourself.” He raises his brows pointedly.
I huff, frustrated I can’t have the beautiful creature, but also…I get it. I love Pearl and Rufus, and I can’t imagine anything happening to them.
“All right,” I relent. “I’ll keep looking.”
“That’s my girl,” Gavin says, patting my ass as we meander through the fish store.
Not a day has gone by since we finally gave in to this thing that he has not taken care of me.
Take last night, for example: I was holed up in my studio, so completely lost in the painting I’m making for Gavin’s parents—who I met via FaceTime last week—for Christmas, that I forgot to eat lunch and dinner.
But Gavin knew that somehow, and he came home after his game with a bag of cheap burgers and a chocolate shake.
That caring quality of his is exactly why we’re at a fish store just five minutes before they close as I try to pick out a fish for myself.
I mentioned it earlier in passing, and he insisted we get me one for Christmas.
I told him he was ridiculous, then somehow found myself being put in the car and driven here.
We argued in the parking lot for ten minutes, then made out for five, which is why we’re cutting it so close.
I grin over at the associate behind the counter, who is shooting daggers our way.
“Okay, we need to hurry this up or that guy is going to charge us double,” I whisper to Gavin.
“Pretty sure he’s not allowed to do that.”
“He could! You don’t know that.”
Gavin gives me a look, then shakes his head at me, his lips twitching.
“What about that one?” He points to another fish.
“Ew. No.”
“Ew? What? Puffers are so cool!”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” He gestures toward another tank. “This one?”
“Hmm, no. He looks mean. And kind of ugly.”
“Ugly? Foxfaces are awesome. Are you really just picking fish based on their cuteness?”
“Um, yes? That’s the whole point, right?”
“No!” He sighs, exasperated, and I grin.
He notices.
“Wait, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Being bratty?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Nessa…” he warns.
I giggle, skipping away to look at more fish.
He groans from behind me, and I know it’s not because he’s annoyed.
No, he’s turned on, and I am too. To be fair, I don’t think I’ve stopped being turned on since we finally accepted this.
I can’t believe how freeing it is to just be together now.
We don’t have to hide. We don’t have to lie. We just get to be us .
I like us. I like us so much that I grab Gavin by the shirt and drag him down to me, kissing him hard and fast. He returns it with the same fervor, his hands roaming all over me, tugging me closer.
A throat clears, and we break away. The guy behind the counter flips the sign from Open to Closed , then narrows his eyes once again. We laugh and keep browsing.
Then I see him. Or her. I have no idea.
“This one!” I press my face to the glass like a kid looking into a toy store. “This is the one.”
“That’s a goldfish.”
“I know. It looks just like Sir Fishsticks the Fourth.”
Gavin frowns. “Goldfish are freshwater. We’re looking for saltwater.”
“But…” I look at the little thing in the water, already half in love with it. “But…”
He sighs. “Are you sure this is the one you want?”
“Yes, I love him.”
“It’s a girl.”
“What? How can you even tell, fish nerd?”
He ignores the jab and points at my new friend. “Look at her shape, for one. And her vent is protruding instead of being an innie.”
“I have no idea what that is, but I’ll believe you, and I’ll take her. She’s perfect.”
“Then we’ll get another tank.”
“Really?” I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, inhaling the cinnamon I love so much. “I love you, I love you, I love you, fish nerd!”
“I love you too. Clearly. ” He laughs as he squeezes me back. “Now, come on before this kid blows a fuse or something.”
The associate checks us out, not looking up a single time, and by the time we make it out of the store, fish in hand, we’re laughing like fools.
“Oh my god, he hated us,” I say.
“He hated me , he loved you.”
“He did not! Did you see the way he grimaced when I told him that joke?”
“Because the punchline was arti fish al coloring.”
“That was hilarious! And clever!” I argue as he opens the door to his SUV and helps me inside.
“So,” he asks, “what are you going to name her?”
“Madam Fishsticks.”
Gavin stares at me blankly.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Then he bursts into laughter, and I grin as I settle into the passenger seat, my brand-new goldfish sitting cozy on my lap for the trip home. I could get used to this. I could get used to him.
And I fully plan on letting myself.