12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
F or a two-bedroom in a tourist town, EJ’s isn’t bad. It’s much better than Mom’s, where it’s just me, her, and the dog all day. At least here, the people are nicer than Texas. Mom’s been sending me pictures of the dog as updates, and I try to send her pictures back when I think about it.
Today, it’s a simple one: the ceiling fan in EJ’s living room. Not much today, I tell her and hit send. My phone vibrates with an incoming text.
She’s talking to some guy.
EJ’s text reads. I don’t have to ask who he’s talking about.
Smiling a lot.
Her or the guy?
Why do you care?
Why haven’t you answered my question?
They’re both happy as can be.
He replies, coupled with a thumbs-up Emoji. Twenty-five going on forty. My brother is nothing short of a dad, without the kids for the role to make sense.
My stomach tightens, like someone yanked on the knot within it.
Good for her .
I toss my phone aside and it lands with a thud on the floor. I check it afterward, to ensure I didn’t crack it out of frustration. I am happy for Gigi. I am truly happy that she’s happy doing this casual fling thing. I’m more than happy to help her on that journey.
But my whole body recoils when I think about her with anyone who won’t absolutely worship everything she is.
I know it’s unfair. I can’t give her what I know she wants. Even if she says she wants a fling now, she’ll crave stability in the end. They all do. It’s only a matter of time.
The girl just wants to be wanted. And I want her. I want her more than I want air. But I won’t be able to be what she needs, and I can’t bring myself to entertain playing with her emotions.
Something about Gigi is different. She’s the only heart that I refuse to break.
Red ink on a black and white canvas. My impossible to remove red heart.
A few hours later, my phone vibrates. It’s Gigi.
I have a date .
The text reads.
I consider what to say. I debate being snide, calling her princess to get a rise out of her for the hell of it. Then, I think about last night at the bar. The other guy’s hands on the curve of her hip that I want my hands to be touching. All the time.
That’s my girl .
I type. Then hit send before I can rethink it.
Why did I say that? Of all things, for fuck’s sake. I debate saying something more, trying to make it clear I’m kidding with her. Even as a joke, nicknames aren’t something Gigi particularly likes. My girl is crossing a line.
But I love doing things Gigi Knox doesn’t like.
A few days after Gigi meets Mr. Right, I get lunch at the diner. Gigi is working, her head down, focused. So much so that it takes her a minute to realize it’s me who’s scanning a menu and playing with a straw wrapper.
“Oh, hey,” she says, out of breath. “Sorry. It’s just busy.”
“All good,” I tell her. “Take your time.”
She smiles and blows out a breath. I hear someone in a booth behind me call Gigi over, and she’s there in an instant, ready to oblige.
It still makes me sick to think about her helping her mother in any way by working here. When I heard from Rory that Gigi went along with Belinda’s idea of not putting her on payroll, it pissed me off. I know Gigi won’t tell Belinda to fuck off, but I wish more than anything she would.
The thought of it makes me feel satisfied in the weirdest way.
When Gigi comes back to me, she’s holding a notepad and pen. She doesn’t say anything, instead she raises her eyebrows and waits for me.
“Shouldn’t you ask me if I’m ready?” I ask.
“Screw you, Cade,” she says, unenthused.
Okay, I guess we’re not entertaining jokes today. Her eyes aren’t sparkling.
I fight a frown pulling at my lips.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “Just busy. Tired. I’ve worked three days in a row, and it’s just—” Her face wrinkles.
I hold up a hand. Anything to get that stressful look off her face. “I got it. Relax. I’ll take a Coke and a bacon cheeseburger.”
“You got it,” she says, not bothering to scribble on her notepad at all. “That’ll be out shortly.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” I ask.
“Yes, Cade. I’m fine.”
I know she’s lying, but now’s not the time to pry.
I nod and try to hold her gaze. She refuses.
My chest squeezes like someone’s got a vise grip around it.
I watch Gigi intently as she buzzes through the diner, waiting tables and putting on her best smile. I can so tell it’s fake, the epitome of a customer service grin. She’s nearly running on empty with how much she’s working to help Belinda.
When Gigi breezes past me, I seize the opportunity to stop her again. “Hey, hey.” I stare intently until she meets my gaze. “What’s going on?”
She gives me a frustrated look. “I’m exhausted, that’s all. I’m working all the time, Cade. Do you realize how exhausting all of this is?”
I can’t even begin to know the toll it must take on her to do what she’s doing, knowing she’s doing it just to make her mother happy.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” I ask, my voice low. “You and I both know she’d throw you to the wolves to get a step ahead, Gigi.”
Gigi closes her eyes and takes a steady breath. She opens her eyes, levels her gaze at me. “It’s not as easy as you think it is, Cade,” she sighs. “Nothing is.”
I’m through my burger and nearly finished with my plate of fries when Belinda walks up to me at the bar.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Gigi,” she states.
I finish chewing, thinking over my answer carefully. I don’t think, Yeah, I’m helping her become a girl that guys like me want to bang at the bar, will be an answer she’s happy with. “We’ve become good friends, really fast,” I say. “She’s fun to be around.”
“I need dishwashing help,” Belinda says, “if you want to spend even more time with her.”
I need every extra cent I can to make my tattoo shop the best it can be. The extra money for beer and cigarettes at the apartment wouldn’t hurt anything, either. I’m depleting my savings staying in Geddington Beach for the summer and was hoping a booming shop here would help me get my money back.
“Would you?” Belinda asks, eyelashes fluttering. “For me?”
I fight a shudder. She thinks she’s getting my attention in a romantic way right now, and it is laughable . This woman knows no bounds.
“I wouldn’t mind the extra money,” I supply.
“And I really need you,” Belinda laments. “It would really help me.”
“I’ll take it,” I say, becoming fascinated with the local ads on my placemat. I read the ad for Frannie’s Fudge and Gifts seven times at least to avoid making eye contact with her in the time that she stands there, staring at me and leaning over so I get a clear view of cleavage I don’t want.
I rejoice silently when she walks away to check on tables.
When I see Gigi again, I grab her wrist to stop her from walking. She halts, giving me a dark look. “What is it, Cade?”
“We’re coworkers now,” I say. “When do I start?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your mother just offered me a job. I accepted.”
“No,” she says. “You’re fired.”
“That’s not how this works, princess.”
She locks her gaze with mine, showing a tumultuous storm. “I hate you. I’ve decided I hate you.”
“I think you’ve decided to do everything except love me.”
Her eyes twinkle. I’m glad to see a bit of levity in her now, after she was stressed when I first arrived.
“I don’t like you,” she decides, her hand on her hip.
“It’s the commitment issues, isn’t it?”
“I’ve realized it’s not.”
“Oh?”
“It’s the fact that you’re an asshole and you have commitment issues,” Gigi tells me. “That’s why I don’t like you, let alone love you.”
“And because of my constant need for nicknames,” I say. “I like to be friendly, princess.”
She waves me off. “Screw off, Cade.”
The knot sitting in my stomach tightens. She’s still pissy. I want to know why she’s so frustrated.
“Did you have a date go bad?” I offer.
She scowls at me, placing a hand with a tired flourish on her hip. “I’m too tired, and way too busy, to deal with you right now,” she decides. “So, I’m walking away.”
She turns on her heel, leaving me to stare after her.
Gigi does as she pleases. And right now, for some fucking reason, she wants to stay the hell away from me.