Getting Over You (Geddington Beach #1)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

T he Cooper Family party house is only this hot and sticky during the first few parties of the summer. It was that way in high school, and it’s still—regretfully—that way now. Even with plenty of parties under their belt, the Cooper twins haven’t bothered to invest in window AC units, fans, or adequate ice for the beer coolers. I don’t think I can blame the heat on them entirely—summer in Connecticut is hot, no matter where you seek refuge.

I’m hot. And bothered. And it’s not in the good way despite my circumstances. When tall, handsome, and needy is on top of you, devouring your body, you’d think it’d be hot in the good way.

“I think I’m bored of the same old thing,” Marcus grumbles against my lips.

A celebration erupts in my head. Finally, we’re done with these shitty house parties in this shitty house with shitty ventilation. We’re in our twenties now, and I’ve been waiting since sixteen for Marcus to say he wants more out of this. I sit up, pulling my bra straps up my arms. I’m excited to start having sex in better places, at least.

“Yeah?” I say. I smile to myself, getting daring enough to pull Marcus close to me again. “What are you thinking? Claudia and Beck tried a nurse thing that Beck liked.”

Marcus goes rigid under my embrace. “Gigi. No. Hold on.” He frees himself from my arms and runs a hand through jet-black locks, staring at the sheet covering his lower half. “It’s not the sex I’m bored of.”

I cast a weary glance. I don’t like that he’s not looking at me when he says that. “That’s a relief,” I chide with a rattle in my voice. “I’d be mortified .” The last word falls nearly silent from my lips as realization washes in.

“No. I mean. The sex is—You are—You’re great, Geeg. You’re really cool.”

My muscles go heavy, rigid. You’re really cool? “Why does it sound like you’re ending things between us again?” I ask. And I know I didn’t mishear him, even with the drinks I had. I’m not that far gone. Even though, right now, I wish I was.

“Geeg. It’s complicated.” He’s still not looking at me—just keeps running a hand through his hair. Sweep. Pause for dramatic breakup effect. Sweep. Pause again. Sweep, sweep. I know that move: a nervous tick when he’s telling someone something that might upset them. Like when he first came back to Connecticut from Boston in May and he was explaining how things might look a little different this summer for his parents, and for me.

I’m not the guy I was when I left for Boston at eighteen, he told us all as we sat on the Matteson’s back patio. I’m different now. More free. Open.

“No, it’s not, Marcus. Come on.” I reach for my dress—navy blue, his favorite—and pull the fabric over my body. “We’ll be right back here soon enough. Who are you fooling?”

I think I’m trying to fool myself, if only a little.

Marcus meets my gaze—finally. “I met someone,” he says.

I force an empty, emotionless laugh. “You… What?” I shift so we’re far apart, my body nearly off the bed. I’m upset with the way that I miss the heat from him embracing me just moments earlier, before everything started falling apart like this. “You’re kidding.”

“Her name’s Cassie,” he says softly. “I go to school with her.”

“So?” I say. “You know we have a deal, and you can mess with whoever. I don’t care, Marcus.” As long as you choose me in the end, I’m willing to wait.

“No, Gigi. It’s just… I like her. I like her a lot. And I can’t continue to see you and her. Not if I want to be fair to Cassie.”

My body slumps at the realization. “Wait. You’re actually ending this. Like done, done?”

“I really like Cass,” he says.

Cass. She has a nickname. I hate nicknames.

“I think you mean you like seeing Cass naked ,” I say as I finally stand up off the bed and flip on the bedside table light. Marcus is shielding his eyes from the brightness as I say, “Do I have it right?”

Marcus sighs and runs his fingers through his hair once more. He shifts around, searching for his underwear. He finds his boxers under the sheets and pulls them on hastily before throwing the blanket off his body and standing with me. Since he’s at least five feet ten, he’s towering over me at a delicate five feet four. The height difference would make this moment intimidating if I didn’t know better. “You don’t have to be a bitch about this,” he says as he pulls on his jeans, his belt clinking. “We’ve been doing this for years, and we’re old enough now that I think it’s time to get serious.”

What I wanted, though, was for Marcus Matteson to decide he wanted to be serious with me. Not College Cass with the perky tits.

“Get serious?” I mock. It comes out louder than I intend, and I’m thankful for the speakers rumbling beneath us at the party. “You think you’re going to ‘get serious’ out of a college sorority slut, Marcus? That’s laughable.”

“Hey.” His tone is sharp. “Stop it. Cass isn’t a slut. She’s beautiful and smart, and I bet you’d like her if you’d give her a chance.”

I scoff. “She’s in Boston,” I say. “I don’t have a reason to give your Boston girl a chance. It’s funny to me that you spend a few years in Mass and suddenly you know what you want out of life. Cass, apparently.”

“She’s spending the summer here,” he says, raspy. “Her parents are going through things, and she’s still got some money saved from graduation. So, we’re going to spend the summer together at the boathouse—see where it goes.”

“Well.” I comb my hands through my hair, platinum strands falling. I’m not looking at him as I try to collect my thoughts. Fidgeting with my necklace, the thought of her legs wrapped around him in the bed at the boathouse floats through my mind. My legs were supposed to be wrapped around Marcus Matteson in the bed at the boathouse this summer. I was looking forward to afternoons tanning on the dock, Marcus throwing grapes at me in the kitchen as I sit at the island with my mouth hanging open. And now Cass gets those things.

“Is she pretty?” I ask. I regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth because what the hell, Gigi? Why would you ask that? Who cares if your ex’s new girlfriend is pretty?

I do. She might be better looking than me.

“Uh.” Marcus thinks this over. How weird is this conversation as we’re getting dressed after almost having sex? I suppose it’s better than doing it after. Getting dumped right now is hard, but doing it immediately after?

Oof.

“You don’t have to answer that,” I say quickly, blinking back impending tears that pulse behind my eyes. Wincing, I say, “Sorry.” I take a few steps to the door, placing my hand on the knob, but not turning it. This feels weird, final. I can stay locked in this moment as long as I keep the door shut—stay in this room with him.

“I’m sorry, too,” Marcus says. “Thanks for everything, Gigi. Seriously, you’re a good girl.”

Not good enough to make a girlfriend out of, but good enough to treat as a toy, I think. I say instead, “It happens. This was just a fling anyway, you know?”

“Right,” he replies, a small smile forming as he processes what I’ve said. “Thanks for being so cool about this, Geeg.”

I hate nicknames.

“Yeah,” I say, pulling the door open. “No problem.”

I find a place downstairs to duck into and call my sister Mollie to pick me up.

“Why are you calling me?” she asks. “Can’t Marcus drive you home?”

“Mollie,” I sigh into the phone. “Please. Just come.”

“Fine, but only because you sound really sad. What do I tell Mom when she asks why I’m going to get you?”

“Tell her…” Shit, I didn’t think this through. I bite my lip. “I have food poisoning.”

“Food poisoning at a house party?” My sister guffaws, incredulous. “Okay.”

“Mollie. Please? ” I don’t have the energy for Mollie to be so herself at the moment.

“You do know that I’m already on my way, don’t you?” she asks.

“You are?”

“Of course I am,” she says earnestly. “My sister’s in trouble.”

I find a spot in the Cooper’s front lawn to wait for Mollie. And as I thought, she’s there in moments, before my limbs have the chance to go to stone with grief.

“SCREW MARCUS MATTESON!” she screams from her open window, her blonde bun bouncing with force as she punctuates her words.

I shush her, walking to the passenger side of her blue Honda Accord. “Are you insane?” I accuse as I slide in and shut the door. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“Well?” she spits. “Clearly, it’s not good. Because here my dear sister is, alone, waiting for me to pick her up from a party.”

I sigh, my whole body sagging as the Cooper’s house fades further and further away.

“He’s got a girlfriend,” I whisper. “Marcus does, I mean.”

“Well, yeah.” Mollie glances at me sidelong. “You.”

“No, not me. We were an arrangement—a conditional arrangement.”

“And that condition was?”

Bile rises in my throat. “That we are a thing until we aren’t a thing. Until one of us decides—”

“To move on,” Mollie finishes knowingly. “Right?”

“I was going to say to pursue a relationship,” I say, my voice breaking. “I thought it would be with each other. Silly me.”

“There are so many guys all over this country. All over this world, Gigi. Marcus was not your One. Please know that. You know that, don’t you?”

“What if no one will be?” I ask. “How long until I decide cat mom life is the life for me and swear off guys altogether?”

“Well,” Mollie offers, “I think twenty-one is a little soon for that.”

My head leans against the car window, the vibrations radiating beneath my skull as Mollie hits bumps in the road. “I really do think I need to leave.” My voice comes out in a whimper. “I can’t stay here and watch him fall in love with her.”

Mollie reaches over, squeezing my hand. “I’m getting you home as quick as I can.”

“No,” I say, sitting up and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I mean, like, actually leave. Belinda lives in South Carolina. She’s got a house right by the beach. Maybe I need to relocate, clear my head.”

My sister gives me a cautious look. “I think you may be a touch on the irrational side now, given what just happened. Let’s not make any rash choices.” She pats my head. “Plus, you’re just fine here with me. And not in a different state with your mother, who probably hates you.”

I consider this, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “I don’t think she hates me.”

“Given the record, though, is it the best idea to go there?”

“Things have changed a lot since I was a kid,” I say. “She’s got the restaurant now. That probably keeps her busy and a little normal, right?”

Mollie looks at me doubtfully. “Do you think skipping town is the way to get over this?”

I don’t know for sure, but I’m desperate for a solution. So, I’m willing to find out.