“I’ll do anything for you.” Spinning her into me, I wind an arm around her back. When our fingers lace, she lays her head on my chest. “Although it’s secretly killing me that I’m slow dancing to Justin Bieber right now.”
We sway together, a comfortable silence that wraps around us, the twinkly lights from the Christmas tree making her glow in my arms, but I think she always glows.
A new song starts, and Jennie makes a soft, happy noise, her body molding into mine. I listen as she hums along to the music, and as the words dance around my living room, the familiarity of the tune sinks in.
“This is your favorite song,” I murmur.
“How’d you know?”
“When you drove me home after my concussion, it came on the radio. You turned it up and sang along.” I looked it up later that night, learning its name: “Falling Like The Stars.” I remember the quiet way she sang the words, the way the air in the car changed, heavier somehow. I knew then I wanted to know her better, so I came up with my genius swim plan. She’d never let me go alone.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“Nah. Just couldn’t look at you.”
“Garrett,” she guffaws, delivering a swift smack to my shoulder.
I chuckle, catching her hand and tangling our fingers again. “Not like that. We were alone in my car, and you looked so hot sitting in the driver’s seat. I was afraid I was gonna derail us and toss you in the backseat.”
She giggles quietly, and I revel in the feel of her in my arms, like she was made to be a part of my life in some way.
“Jennie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask why?”
“Why what?” Her body doesn’t even tense, her hand soft and warm in mine, head on my shoulder while she hums along. I’d like to tell myself it’s because she trusts me, that she feels safe here with me. But she’s relaxed because she has no idea I’m about to go down this road. She thinks she’s surrounded by skyscrapers, but they’re only walls. Walls that lower day after day, letting me peek into her life, her past, even if she has no idea I’m looking.
So, why what? How do I put it into words without scaring her off? Why has it been years since she’s had sex? What happened, and who did it? Is she okay? How can I help her?
“What did he do?” is the question that finally comes. I’m not sure it’s the best option, especially when she stiffens in my arms.
“I think I’m gonna head out,” she replies quietly, her hands slipping through mine.
“What? No. No, I—” I watch as she makes her way to the door, looking for her slippers, and when she finds them, I grab them. “Don’t leave.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she lies. “I’m just tired.”
“No.” I tug her into me, burying her in my body while she puts up a half-assed fight. “Please, Jennie,” I whine. “Don’t leave me.”
She sighs, giving up the fight, letting me smother her in my hug. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
And so we don’t. We settle together on the couch, under piles of blankets, Jennie between my legs, her small hand fisting my shirt, as the Whos down in Whoville prepare for Christmas.
I shift my hoodie up her back, trailing my fingertips over her smooth skin. “Jennie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
A tired sigh, and she snuggles deeper, nuzzling into my chest. “Garrett?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for making me feel better today. I’m lucky to have you.”
But I think it’s me who’s the lucky one, and when she falls asleep ten minutes into the movie, I don’t wake her. I don’t wake her ’til after midnight, and even then, I’m considering saying fuck it.
Instead, I pick her up, wind her arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and take her back to her apartment, leaving with a kiss on her lips when she stirs, gazing up at me with a dazzling, sleep-drunk smile.
CHAPTER 18
THE F-WORD
GARRETT
East coast winters suck.
I don’t often find myself missing them, unless Vancouver has a particularly mild winter and pond hockey is off the table. I’ve been here two days and have spent hours whipping around the frozen pond with friends or taking my sisters out for a skate.
But right now I’m on my ass in the snow on the front lawn of my childhood home, getting pummeled by snowballs.
A particularly hard and icy one smacks me dead in the nuts, and I fall to my back, groaning.
“Oops,” Alexa says, which is how I know she did it on purpose.
“Garrett! Are you okay?” Gabby scrunches her nose, grits her teeth, and with a battle cry that echoes in the frigid air, charges at Alexa. The two of them collide, tumbling to the ground, shrieking as the snow swirls around them.
Stephie’s face appears overtop of me, blocking the sun. “Me and you are the only normal ones,” she says plainly, then tries to pull me up. She’s ten, all scrawny, gangly limbs, and probably seventy pounds soaking wet. I’m two hundred plus. The effort is there, but it’s not working.
I lie there lifeless, and eventually she gives up, dropping on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs.
She rolls off, lying beside me in the snow, and smiles. “I really miss you when you’re not here. I wish you could come home more.”
“I think we should convince Mom and Dad to move to Vancouver. Then we’d never have to miss each other.”
“Fat chance. Dad says you guys don’t have good lobster there.”
You can get good anything anywhere if you make as much money as I do, but there really is nothing like east coast lobster. It’s why I wound up wearing one of those plastic bibs last night at the Harbour Lobster Pound. Conversation was limited, the moaning at top peak. I ate so much I crashed early and missed Jennie’s call.
In fact, with our clashing schedules, we haven’t talked much since I last saw her. At least I get to see her during her recital tonight, even if it’s only on TV.
When the sun starts to dip, the chill in the air too damp to be fun anymore, we retreat to the warmth, and I text Jennie.
Me: Can’t wait to watch u kick ass. Hope u can hear my cheers from here, sunshine.
“Garrett’s texting his girlfriend!” Gabby shrieks as she leaps over the back of the couch and onto my back, trying to tackle me to the ground. “He called her sunshine!”
“She’s not my girlfriend, you little monster.” I wrap my arm around her head and tickle her ribs, laughing as she tries to fight me off. “Jennie’s just my friend.”
She spins out of my grasp and jumps to her feet. Breathless, she swipes her dark blonde hair from where it’s plastered to her cheeks. “Yeah, a friend you watch Christmas movies with and make ice cream sundaes for.” She sticks her tongue out, dashing away with a squeal when I lunge for her.
“Jennie,” Mom murmurs from where she’s working over the stove. She casts me a glance over her shoulder. “Not Jennie Beckett?”
When I don’t respond, her mouth gapes.
“Garrett Andersen, please tell me you’re not dating your captain’s little sister.”
“Okay. I’m not dating my captain’s little sister.”
She pops a fist on her hip, expression unamused.
“What? We’re not dating. We’re just friends.” Technically not a lie.
“Does Carter know you’re friends?”
“Uh, yeah. We live in the same building. He knows.” Still not a lie.
“Okay, let me rephrase my question. Does Carter know you’re watching movies at night with his little sister and making her ice cream sundaes?”
I cross my arms and look away, grumbling, “Shut up.” Gabby meets my gaze from where she’s partially hidden behind the wall. I point a finger at her. “You’re in trouble.”
A maniacal giggle leaves her mouth. “Alexa has a boyfriend too! Jacob Daniels!”
“Gabby!” Alexa shrieks.
“I saw them holding hands at recess!” Gabby screams, running down the hallway, bedroom door slamming shut moments before Alexa collides with it.
Stephie meets my gaze. “What’d I tell ya? The only normal ones.”
“What about you?” I poke her side. “Any boyfriends?”
Her cheeks blaze and she looks at her hands in her lap.