Chapter 3
MILE THREE
COME WITH ME
Garrett Fucking Marlowe. The dim light of the streetlamp bathes him in a yellow glow.
His tall, broad body is outlined in the velvet night like one of those shadow daddies from a steamy romantasy.
He is darkness in the light, or light in the darkness.
Either way, right now, I’m a fizzed-up soda can of emotions in his presence.
Both relief and annoyance collide inside me at his unexpected appearance.
Of course he shows up ten minutes after Miles ditches me. My humiliation wouldn’t be complete without an audience, especially one that called this possible outcome.
Sighing, I flick my wrist toward him. “Why are you here? Are you stalking me now?”
“Nice to see you too, Jensen.” A smirk is audible in his deep timbre. “I left my phone at the creamery. As I was leaving Marie’s, I noticed you here. Why are you at the bus stop?”
“How else does one get home when one doesn’t drive?” I roll my eyes.
He steps closer to the bench. “Where’s literary fuckboy?”
“Not here.” I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“So much for having you,” he says gruffly.
“So much.” Mouth tight, I twist away from Garrett, letting my vision fix on the lit neon sign across the street.
The distance doesn’t allow me to make out the fuzzy letters, but it’s better than looking at Garrett. Even if I can’t see his face, I can picture the I told you so scowl he’s likely wearing.
“What happened? Did he do something?”
Despite the agitation wafting from Garrett, I don’t turn to look at him.
It’s bad enough knowing the mix of smugness and pity that will likely twist his features once he learns how very right he was about Miles.
Aching embarrassment already threatens to make me cry, and that’s the last thing I want to do right now—especially in front of him.
“Nothing happened.” I rub my temples. “He didn’t do anything.”
Isn’t that the issue? Miles didn’t do anything, and I waited too long to make my move.
Did I, though? I wasn’t exactly subtle about my intentions. Even if I never said, “How about we move to the lovers’ portion of our friends to lovers story,” Miles isn’t obtuse. Even my boss Andrew clocked my crush after Miles’s first pop into our office.
It’s obvious what I want—wanted—from Miles.
Hell, Garrett had mocked me earlier tonight about my unrequited crush.
His barb had hit the mark then, and its after-effect sloshes shame inside me.
I followed Miles around like a puppy starved for any affection, only for him to walk away the moment someone better came along.
I wish I was more like Anker. Even if my brother has this steadfast belief in the Larsen lore, he’s not waiting. He’s running towards what he wants. He’s not just standing by and letting life happen around him.
“Miles didn’t do anything you didn’t try to warn me about,” I admit.
What a fool I’ve been about Miles. It’s just Chase Rollins all over again. In nine years, you’d think I would have learned not to make the same mistakes.
“What happened?” he says, taking the empty spot on the bench beside me.
The warmth of his body folds around me like a blanket. Right now, Garrett is the last person I want to talk about this with, but there’s something in the tender inflection in his voice that uncurls my words.
“He ditched me for another woman.”
“Jensen, I’m—”
“You warned me about him.” I shake my head. “I was just too stupid to listen.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“Sure.” I scoff. “I followed him around like a devoted lovesick teenager, blind to the fact that he didn’t want me. Not really. You think I’d learned something after Chase, but no, I go and fall for another charmer with their pretty words. God, I am pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic.”
“You said it yourself.”
“I never said you’re pathetic,” he says, his voice rough.
I twist to face him. “You said it tonight. Outside the bathroom, or is your memory going in your advanced age?”
“I am only seven years older than you.” He shakes his head. “Also, I never said you’re pathetic. He’s pathetic. Not you. Never you.” He shifts to face me.
His green eyes bore into mine. Their intensity radiates through me, crackling awake every nerve ending.
I may not be able to see Garrett’s eyes, but I always feel them.
I can sense when he looks at me. It’s not a magic blind girl trick; it’s just this sensation pulsing along my skin each time he meets my eyes, and he always does.
Even when he tells me things I don’t want to hear.
He also never lies to me, even if it means my feelings get hurt.
“Guys like that know what they’re doing. They know how to manipulate and charm people into getting what they want out of them.”
I huff a derisive laugh. “Well, clearly Miles doesn’t want anything from me.”
“Oh, he wants something.”
“What does he want?” A crease dips my brow.
“Your attention to boost his ego or to keep you on the hook until he’s ready to settle,” he says.
“Settle?” I flinch. “Fuck you.” I stand up and unfold my cane.
“Excuse me?” He rises beside me.
“I’m not the woman someone settles for.” I turn to walk away, but spin back to face him. “I’m not anyone’s backup plan. I’m their first choice. Even if they don’t know it.” I swallow the emotional tangle in my throat.
You’re not girlfriend material. Chase’s parting shot, minutes after he ended our situationship, echoes inside me. Only to me, I thought we’d been in an actual relationship, or at least becoming one.
“I know that.” He steps close. The streetlamp offers enough illumination for me to make out the downward curve of his mouth.
“But you said—”
“Fuuuck.” He scrubs his palms down his face. “I never say the right thing with you.”
“You said settle.”
“I meant settle down. You’re the type of woman men settle down with, not the type they just have fun with.”
“Ouch.” I purse my lips.
Settle down with? That may be even worse than the woman someone settles for.
I want to be the woman someone can’t live without.
My father once said falling in love with my mother was like emerging from the deep end, the air filling his lungs and causing him to wonder if he ever knew how to breathe before that moment.
I want to be the air someone breathes.
“Damn it!” Head tipped back, he lets out a loud groan. “I don’t mean it like that. Stop making what I say negative.”
“Stop saying negative things.” I arch one eyebrow.
Raking his fingers into his hair, he releases a hard breath. “What I’m trying to say is he doesn’t deserve you. You’re better than this. Better than him.”
I toss up a hand. “Well, maybe if you had said that instead of making fun of Miles, I may have listened to you about him.”
“Like you’d ever listen to me.”
“I listen to you. Sometimes.” A small smile twitches at the corners of my lips. “I’m now taking vitamin D daily.”
Not all of Garrett’s critique is vexing. A lot of it is thoughtfulness wrapped up in his prickliness. Like how he lectures me to add more leafy greens to my diet, but still always brings my beloved garlic knots—along with salad that he will guilt me into eating—when we do movie nights at Anker’s.
“Good. Wouldn’t want you to die of scurvy.” A hint of a smirk plays in his timbre.
“That’s vitamin C.” A soft chuckle falls out of me. “You’re like the worst doctor ever.”
“You say that now, but who do you call when you’re sick? Not your brother who refuses to write prescriptions for family and friends, even if it’s just antibiotics.”
“What’s even the point of having a doctor brother if you can’t get drugs?” I mock pout. “Although, said antibiotics from you do come with a lecture about healthy eating and daily vitamin intake maintenance.”
His chuckle reminds me of a rainstorm on a summery day.
It’s both refreshing and warm. It’s moments like this that make the memory of our first meeting and his grumpy, sometimes judgy ways, extra fuzzy.
It’s almost as if he’s two people at times.
There’s broody Garrett, and then there’s my Garrett.
Though he’s not mine. He’s just my brother’s best friend.
Even if, at times, it feels like he’s also my friend.
“Who’s Chase, by the way?” he says, rubbing at his nape.
“Chase?” Head tilted, I wrinkle my brow.
“You mentioned earlier that this is just like with Chase.”
“Of course I did,” I mutter to myself.
No one knows about Chase Rollins outside of Catherine, my therapist, Dr. Nor, and Anker.
Though Anker only knows the CliffsNotes version that I had been seeing someone and then I wasn’t.
If he knew the full truth, he would have got himself kicked off the university track team thanks to whatever retribution he took on Chase.
“He’s my Miles from undergrad. Only worse.” Shame blazes up my spine, and I pray that in the streetlamp’s pale lighting, Garrett can’t see the red I know flames my complexion. “I’m not the girl boys lined up for.” I swallow thickly. “Not the woman either.”
“Jensen—”
I hold up my palm. “Please keep whatever platitudes you’re about to say to yourself. They won’t make me feel better. I know the truth.”
“What truth is that?”
“I’m not the girl men want to have fun with.” Using his own words, I tip my gaze back to him. The ache of certainty twinges in my throat, making my words come out scratchy. “And despite what you say about me being the woman men settle down with, I’m not the type of girlfriend most men want.”
“What does that mean?” I can almost hear the pinch of his brow in his question.
“You know what it means. Don’t be deliberately obtuse,” I say, incredulous.
“Enlighten me.” He steps impossibly closer. The annoyance radiating from him takes up all the space in the scant inches between us.