She trips over her feet when she spins, catching herself before she can fall, and as she storms away, she orders her friends to follow.
Ashlee lingers, eyes bouncing between Krissy’s quickly retreating form and me. “You didn’t just take her down a peg or two; you demolished her entire ship.” Her head swivels when Krissy screams her name, and when she looks back at me, she grins. “Glad I got to see it. See ya later, Jennie. Can’t wait to watch you kick ass tomorrow.”
She turns her back on Krissy and heads for the exit behind me, throwing her middle finger up over her shoulder when Krissy shrieks once more.
A slow clap fills the hallway, and Simon emerges from the doorway of the gym, whistling lowly. “Dang, Jennie. Look at you go.”
“That was long overdue.” I roll my neck over my shoulders, sighing as it cracks. I’ve released an unholy amount of tension, but it’s only made me aware just how much I was carrying. “I can’t wait to never see them again.”
“Don’t worry about them.” Simon grips my shoulders, fingers digging into my tight, sore muscles. “They’re not all that fun.”
“Says the guy who’s slept with all three of them.” I shrug out of Simon’s grasp, though the massage feels heavenly. “They must have been fun enough to fuck.”
“If they were fun, I’d still be sleeping with them.” His mouth dips to my ear. “If they were really fun, I’d be sleeping with all three of them at the same time.”
I swat him away. “You’re gross.”
Simon chuckles. “Truly disgusting. Wanna come back to my place? We can soak in the jacuzzi, let our muscles rest.”
“I can’t. Garrett’s picking me up soon.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He picks you up all the time.”
“He does not pick me up all the time.” Sometimes he’s out of the country. “We live in the same building. It’s purely convenience. There’s absolutely nothing romantic between us.”
Simon’s eyes glide over my face, examining the authenticity of my words, I’d guess, but I’ve gotten fairly good at lying about this. “Really?”
“Just friends.”
“All right,” he whispers, palm curving around my nape as he tows me closer. “Well, your friend is here, looking ultra jealous, which is odd since you’re…just friends.”
My head snaps, finding Garrett hovering in the doorway, keys dangling from the tip of his pointer finger, other hand tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie as he watches us. Deep crease in his forehead, full lips turned down in a frown, and a highly noticeable tic in his jaw, Garrett Andersen looks nothing like the goofy, sweet man I’ve come to know over the past months. The sight alone is enough to make my stomach twist and knot.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I toss out, dashing toward Garrett, my smile brightening as I go. “Hey, big guy.”
The crease between his brows doesn’t diminish as he stares down at me, and when he finally whispers, “Hi,” I know well enough that something’s not right.
I grab his elbow and tug him toward his waiting car, desperate for privacy. “I missed you. How was your flight?”
“Fine,” he mumbles, and before I can ask him what’s wrong, he whisks me into my seat and closes the door. It’s not my imagination that he stalls getting in, pretending to look for the keys he had in his hands a moment ago. When he finally climbs in, the chill of the outdoors returns, stealing the warmth of his heated car.
The first thing I notice is the empty cupholders. Without asking, Garrett consistently shows up with a cinnamon bun cappuccino. He presses it into my hands, warming them on contact, and touches his lips to mine before he shifts into drive and asks how my day was.
It’s not the lack of coffee that bothers me, but the lack of everything else. Physical contact, fucking eye contact, conversation as we drive in silence, and I don’t know why.
“Is everything okay, Garrett?” I’m dying to hold his hand, but he keeps his glued to the steering wheel, and I miss his fingertip trailing over my thigh. “You seem upset.”
“Fine.” The single word is so low, I barely hear it.
My mind races, searching for something I’ve done wrong in the hours since we’ve talked. Garrett’s never been upset with me before, and the disconnection is heavy and staggering. We’re strangers all over again, tiptoeing around what we really want to say.
Until he opens his mouth.
“You gonna tell him to keep his hands off you, or should I?”
My heart skitters to a stop. “What?”
Garrett’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he keeps his eyes on the road. “I don’t like the way he touches you.”
“Garrett…Simon’s my dance partner. He has to touch me.”
“You know as well as I do he wants to be more than that. I can handle the way he touches you when you’re dancing, but I won’t tolerate him putting his hands all over you the rest of the time, like he thinks you’re his.”
“Okay, back up.” I swivel in my seat, hands braced in front of me. “What are you talking about? I’m not Simon’s. I’m not anybody’s.”
“Right,” Garrett agrees, clipped. “You’re happy being single.”
“Can you fucking look at me?” I snap. “Why are you upset with me?”
“I’m not upset with you,” he lies. “I’m reiterating a point you’ve made a couple of times now.”
“A point I’m not aware of, clearly, so why don’t you enlighten me.” I fold my arms over my chest and wait as he pulls into the parking garage, finding his spot.
“You don’t want to date an athlete. You don’t want to be in a relationship. You’re happy being single and on your own.” He throws each sentence out like it’s etched in stone, tendons flexing in his clenched fists. “You’ve said it three times now.”
“Three times?”
“When Gabby called you my girlfriend at Christmas, when we were at that club the other week, and a couple days ago when you told Carter you didn’t want to be tied down to anyone, that you were happy being on your own.”
My thoughts drift to my last visit with Carter and Hank, where Hank pestered me about letting someone in, finding my person the way Carter found his. But I’d already found my person; I just couldn’t tell them that.
“They were only words,” I promise softly, anger dimming. “I can’t very well say I’m sleeping with my brother’s best friend, can I? Nobody’s supposed to know about us.”
“And when you said to Simon that we were just friends, that our relationship was just convenient…were those only words too?” Though the words are harsh, there’s a vulnerability to him that simmers below the surface, like he’s about to crack wide open. I don’t want him to break, but I do want him to let me in.
“Garrett,” I coax gently, laying my hand on his cheek. My heart aches when his gaze finds mine, sad, angry, and lost. “Are you jealous?”
His eyes flicker, and there’s that damn bob in his throat again as he looks away.
“I know sometimes you struggle to give your feelings words. I need you to talk to me right now. I’m listening.”
“I-I…I can’t…” His knee starts bouncing, fingers stretching over them before curling back into his palms. He shoves a hand through his hair, knocking his hat off and tugging on those golden waves. “I can’t think. I can’t talk. Fuck. I hate this.”
I take his hand in mine, squeezing gently. “Take a breath. I’m right here. I’ll wait.”