Chapter Fifteen #2
“Yeah, it is kinda like that, isn’t it? Except now we don’t have to sneak in the alcohol.” She hiccups, covering her mouth as she giggle. “Too much tequila. Everleigh makes them strong.”
“Adulting at its finest.”
We get to the part in the movie where Meg Ryan goes to the bookstore that’s going to ruin her business, and Gemma puts her hand over her heart as she intently watches the scene unfold.
Though I’m certain she’s seen this, her reactions are cute.
Honestly, she’s more interesting than this movie, but I force myself to focus on the screen. Even if it’s hard as hell.
She repeats the lines, and I snort. Why does she have to be so fucking adorable? It makes keeping her at a distance harder than I ever thought was possible.
When Gemma bites her bottom lip, I’m tempted to pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. Kiss her worries away. Tell her she doesn’t have to marry that douchebag if she doesn’t want to, that she shouldn’t.
But I don’t want to send her mixed signals.
While I wish she were mine, I’d inevitably fuck it up again. She’s too good for Robert, but if I’m being honest, she’s too good for me too.
Gemma would do anything for anyone, and she loves with every part of her being. Robert wanting her to quit her job because of me nearly has a blood vessel bursting, but I bury the anger and keep my feelings to myself. Something I’ve perfected over the years.
It’s obvious Gemma isn’t having “cold feet.” The woman has always gone after what she wants. Considering everything that’s happened over the past few weeks with her and Robert, it’s obvious there’s more to this. She has to ultimately make the final decision, but I don’t want it to be because of me.
I want her to call off the wedding because she realizes she won’t be happy with him. Robert has a lot of money, but material possessions don’t buy love.
“Gemma…”
She leans back against the couch.
We’re so close. Too close. I can smell her shampoo every time she brushes loose strands of hair out of her face.
“He didn’t lay his hands on you, did he?”
I shouldn’t be asking. I shouldn’t get involved, but I care about her—sometimes too fucking much. She tucks her lips into her mouth and looks up at me with big green eyes. “He was trying to make me stay, Tyler. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.”
“You’re positive about that?”
I’ve heard women say that before, but I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Yes. I wouldn’t put up with it otherwise. He’s not like that,” she reassures.
“Alright, good. If you need boxing lessons and want to learn how to take someone down in ten seconds flat, just say the word.”
She laughs. “Did you forget who my brother is?”
“Nah. But I also know you’ve gotten rusty at kicking dudes in the balls. Though…” I grin. “When you were younger, you were a goddamn pro.”
Her head falls back with laughter. “I was a little shit, wasn’t I?”
“Everyone knew not to mess with you, Katie, or Everleigh because y’all were a bunch of little scrappers. Or because I threatened to kick anyone’s ass who messed with my little sister and her friends.”
I chuckle thinking about it.
“I didn’t take anyone’s crap back then, and trust me when I say I’m not gonna take it now. I’m okay, Tyler. But thank you. If I’m ever not okay, I’ll mention it.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.” She turns back to the movie, then squeezes my arm. “Oh, this is my favorite part.”
Tom Hanks walks past the coffee shop and sees Meg Ryan inside, then goes in and pretends not to be the man on the other end of their messenger conversation.
“This would never happen nowadays,” I say, very aware of how close she is to me now.
“It could, especially with all the dating apps and stuff. What about forums? Reddit is popular. I think it’s possible. Now shush.”
She smirks, then winks.
Is she flirting with me?
Gemma shifts, and her knee touches mine.
The heat from her skin nearly burns a hole through my skin, but I don’t move.
I wonder if she feels the strong tug of electricity that’s pulling us together, or if I’m just imagining it.
Perhaps it’s never left us. Not even time could change what we have, regardless of whether we’re too fucking stubborn to admit it.
We should be able to hang out together as friends, despite our past, or the fact she’s moved on. However, my biggest concern is that eventually, it’ll all come to a head. Both of us will be powerless to deny our attraction, but it’ll be too late.
I tell myself I’m imagining everything, knowing I can’t act on it, but when I see her pulse thumping in her neck, there’s no way it’s not real. Needing to distance myself for a moment, I stand and grab a bottle of water.
“Want one?” I hold it up, and she nods.
I hand it to her, making sure to create more space between us when I sit, though I think she notices.
We continue watching the movie in silence. Gemma’s nearly in tears when Tom Hanks shows up at the end with his dog, Brinkley. She lets out an aww when they kiss, and it makes me smile.
Once the credits roll, she yawns, which quickly makes me too.
“Damn, you gotta stop that.” I yawn again.
“Sorry, I can’t help it,” she says around another one, and we both laugh.
It’s getting late, and we both have to be up early for work in the morning.
“Thanks for hanging out with me.” She adjusts the pillow on the couch and grabs the quilt Everleigh threw over the back.
“Anytime.”
I wonder how many nights Robert has denied spending time with her. Probably happens more often than not. What a dumbass. He clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing or perhaps he doesn’t care.
“You should take my bed,” I suggest. “It’s nice and comfy, and the only thing you have to deal with is Sassy waking you up at three a.m. to go outside.”
Gemma giggles. “No way, I couldn’t.”
“Yes way, you can. You’re the guest of the evening. Might as well get a good night’s rest.”
She shakes her head, and I’m sure I won’t be able to convince her to trade with me, but I try anyway.
“I’m perfectly fine. I’ve passed out after too many drinks on this couch more times than I can count. I sink into it just like a cloud.” She lies back and shows me.
“Have you always been this stubborn?” I ask firmly, but I’m grinning at how cute she looks.
“Ever since I was a teen.”
When our eyes meet for a moment, many unspoken words stream between us.
I imagine walking over to her and sliding my lips against hers, tasting her tongue and the leftover margarita.
I want to tell her how goddamn beautiful and perfect she is as I swoop my arms under her body and carry her to my bed.
I’d slowly undress her, making sure to take in every smooth inch of her.
I’d feather kisses along the softness of her skin and—
Fuck. Before I completely lose myself, I shake my head and push those thoughts away.
“What?” Her question pulls me from the fantasy of it all.
“Nothing. Just exhausted.”
She sits up. “Liar! Now you have to tell me.”
I grab my bottle of water off the coffee table. “I don’t think so. That’s a trap just waiting to happen.”
She snorts. “A trap? Okay, maybe I don’t want to know, but it was something.”
Gemma carefully watches me, and I lift an eyebrow. “It was something, but I’ll keep it to myself. I am a gentleman, after all.”
I walk closer, adjust the blanket over her body, then brush a loose strand of hair from her face before placing a kiss on her forehead.
“Good night, Gemma. My bed’s waiting for you if you change your mind.”
She swallows hard with wide eyes.
“No. Shit. That totally came out wrong. I mean, if you want to trade.” I nervously laugh, and she does too, but I also notice the blush on her cheeks. “Okay, good night!”
I walk to my room, replaying my own stupidity. Apparently, I forget to think straight around her, and I’m afraid one of these days it’s really going to catch up to me