Page 9 of Let's Be Forever

We’ve been busy; him with playoffs and me with the trade and moving to another state and dealing with my parents’ bullshit. Some things never change.

So what if I’ve lived in Boston for a few months now. I haven’t been able to bring myself to decorate or buy more than what’s necessary. Maybe I don’t care enough, but it’s also not a priority.

His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “Judge you, of course.” He ambles over to the sofa and flops down. “So, forget your boring home. How was your night? You left a little early, didn’t say bye or anything. Heard Gianna left early too. Know anything about that?”

“Nothing happened.” And I hate myself for it. I can’t believe I almost succumbed to sleeping with someone just to forgether. “Nothing happened. She cut my hair, and then I left.”

“That explains why you look better.” He hums, impressed. “Told you she was good. So what happened?”

“Who is she?” Gianna asks.

I glance her way as I park my car in the garage of her apartment complex. “What?”

“The girl who has occupied your attention.” She removes her belt and shifts in the passenger seat to look at me.

“What do you?—”

“I’ve been flirting with you from the moment we got in the car. Have not so subtly been throwing myself at you. I’ve tossed about every sign out there. I touched your arm and you pulled back as if you had gotten burnt then apologized. You don’t strike me as an oblivious person, and from what Marc has told me, you’re smart enough to read between the lines. Youdon’t want me but you’re trying to trick yourself—or whatever it is you’re doing—into believing you do. So who’s the girl or guy?” She doesn’t look offended or upset, rather curious and intrigued.

I drag my fingers through my hair. “There’s no girl.”

“But there was?” Gianna cocks a brow. “Wasn’t there?” She grins, all excited like. “Marc didn’t tell me anything about a girl.”

“Because there’s no girl.” I huff, feeling annoyed and in need of another cigarette.

I don’t bother waiting till I get home, instead climbing out and grabbing my lighter and pack. She also gets out, rounds the hood of my car, and asks for one. I light it up for her, and we both lean against the side of my car.

“I don’t want you to think I was using you.” I slip the cigarette between my lips, inhale deeply, and exhale the white plume of smoke into the air.

She blows her own cloud of smoke. “Didn’t say you were, but I was using you.”

I peer down at her. “What?”

She chuckles wryly, the cigarette remaining between her lips for a long moment before she plucks it out and exhales sharply. “Just got dumped. Thought what better way to get over my ex than rebounding, and with you of all people. He’s obsessed with you.”

“Shit.” I wince. “I’m sorry. Marc didn’t?—”

She speaks over me, but the sadness is evident in her voice. “It’s fine. Some things aren’t meant to work out, and Marc didn’t tell you because he doesn’t know.” She takes another drag. “So who dumped you?”

“No one dumped me.” My throat knots and stomach sinks. The reminder of that night tastes bitterly acidic. I stare straightahead. I’m not about to open up to a person I don’t know. Even if Marc has boasted about how good of a listener she is.

“Oh. You dumped her.” She clicks her tongue. “Damn…I assume she was toxic if you’re sad and still missing her.”

“She wasn’t—isn’t toxic,” I correct her, a little irked. “She was…”Everything. And I lost her.

“She’s the one that got away, huh?” she asks, unperturbed by the bite in my voice.

Even the cigarette isn’t enough to dull the ache in my chest, the memories, the regret. The air grows stale at the reminder of how it all ended, how I fucked it all up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”

She waves a hand, unfazed. “I cut men’s hair—professional athletes with egos as big as Jupiter. I’m fine. It’ll take more than you being a little sassy to hurt my feelings.”

“I’m not sassy.”

“And a little pathetic,” she counters. “I struck a nerve, obviously. But it’s okay. I’ll let it slide because you’re sad.”

“I’m not sad.” Now I sound defensive.