JENNIE
“No hair gel,” I murmur, rifling through the drawer. “Seriously? It looks that good all on its own? Un-fucking-believable.”
It’s surprisingly tidy in here for a bachelor’s bathroom. I’d be impressed, except I can’t find what I’m looking for, so annoyance is winning by a landslide.
So far, his vanity has yielded an unholy amount of Q-tips, those flossing sticks instead of the thread, which immediately ups Garrett a few notches, and an array of hair trimmers. They’re all different, but I can’t fathom why he needs so many. I shouldn’t complain; whatever he’s doing with his facial hair is working for me. I quite enjoy the way it tickles between my thighs.
I examine a bottle of cologne before spritzing it on my T-shirt. It’s technically Garrett’s, so it already smells like him, but a little more won’t hurt.
“Oooh.” I pull the cotton to my nose, inhaling. He smells like heaven always, fresh like citrus from his shower, but the cologne adds an earthy smell, the kind that has me picturing him out in the woods in a plaid flannel, wielding an axe. “So good.”
“Snooping?”
Yelping, I slam the drawer shut, turning to find Garrett in the doorway. He’s naked, which is distracting. Lieutenant Johnson is super rock hard and massive, waving hello, which is extremely fucking distracting.
“Snooping? No. Me? No.” My arm flails in the direction of the countertop, where his things are spread, and I accidentally swipe his cologne clear off it. It’s in a pretty glass bottle, and I can’t pronounce the name, so I likely can’t afford to replace it if it smashes at our feet.
Probably why I fling myself forward, arms outstretched.
Garrett simply holds out his hand and catches the bottle, cradling it into his chest, and I go crashing into him.
“Are you all right?” He’s not asking if I’m physically intact and pain-free. He’s questioning my sanity, and his tone indicates he finds it humorous.
“I was looking for a toothbrush.” I bury the words against his collarbone. “I can’t kiss you with morning breath. That’s disgusting.”
His blue-green eyes are hazy, heavy with sleep as he stares down at me. If his sleep was anything like mine, it was glorious. I haven’t slept so deep in ages as I did with Garrett’s warm body locked around mine all night, his hand splayed over my stomach, face buried in my neck. He’s really the biggest snuggle bear ever, and I think I might be too.
He releases me and moves to the counter, tucking his cologne away and producing a small woven basket. Inside is a packaged pink toothbrush, hair ties, deodorant, lip balm, makeup remover wipes, and a small box of tampons.
A knot clenches in my stomach like an angry fist. My attempt to tamp down the surge of jealousy moving through me is unsuccessful. I swallow and plant a forced smile on my lips. “You keep feminine products here for the girls you have over?”
Two lines appear between his eyebrows when they quirk. Garrett leans over me, pulling out his toothpaste and depositing it in my hand.
“No.” He hooks his thumb under my chin and lifts my mouth to his, kissing me deeply. “I keep feminine products here for you.” He claps a hand to my ass before sauntering back into the bedroom, unbelievable hockey butt swinging back and forth as he goes.
“Ugh,” he groans, snagging his sweatpants from the floor. He peeks over his shoulder, teasing smile playing at his lips. “Your morning breath is gross.”
Dancing has been my life for as long as I’ve known, but when I lost my dad, it became my savior. It was the only way I could get lost, step outside of my life, my nightmares, and rise above it, even if only for as long as the song lasts. It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m with; I close my eyes and the music takes me wherever I want to be.
Two hands wrap around my waist before I’m in the air, wind fluttering at my face as Simon spins the both of us. When my feet touch the ground, I dash across the stage, the lyrics to my favorite song chasing at my heels. My body soars as I leap through the air as James Arthur sings about two people falling in love the way stars fall from the sky, and Garrett’s face floods my mind. I’m caught off guard by the vision, and a shiver of apprehension rockets through me at the meaning behind it.
I’ve never been in love. I thought I was, and when Kevin broke my heart, I thought love was the reason it hurt so much. But over the years, I’ve realized that’s not what it was. I was just a girl, someone who longed for acceptance, intimacy, and I latched onto what he gave me. It wasn’t love; it was a lesson learned.
What I have with Garrett feels…different. Unique and fleeting, something you don’t let go of. But I’m only one-half of a whole; I can’t control when someone else wants to let go. Quite frankly, walking into something with that logic is frightening.
I’m learning to keep my shoulders back, to take the steps even when I’m uncertain.
Thing is, though, as shaky as the steps may be, they don’t feel all that uncertain when that man is the one waiting at the destination.
A hand clasps mine, and Simon smiles at me when my eyes snap open. He spins me into him, pulling me against his chest, and his eyes drop to my lips as his face hovers above mine, inching closer as the song drifts to an end. My pulse thunders as silence encases us, though I know he won’t close the gap. When applause echoes through the auditorium, we break apart, both of us breathless and sweaty.
Mikhail wipes at nonexistent tears. “Beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” He climbs the steps at side stage. “Simon, the emotion is on point. You look absolutely enthralled with Miss Beckett. Jennie, you look a teensy bit scared of Simon, but it works, like your love for each other is daunting.”
“Yeah, daunting.” I swipe my hair off my damp neck. “That’s definitely it.”
“My diamond dazzlers,” he murmurs, chin resting on his fist as he stares at us. “And Jennie, you’re still not feeling the kiss at the end?”
“Still not feeling it.”
He raises his hands in defeat. “Well, okay. I think you two have got this thing nailed down anyway. You’d never know you aren’t a real couple.” He checks his watch. “Okay, I’ve got a meeting in ten and a lunch date later at Rapscallion. You two should head home for some rest. You’ve earned it. Let’s not stretch ourselves.”
“Thanks, Mik.” I grab my yoga pants and wiggle them over my ass. “Make sure you get the oysters. They’re—” I bring the tips of my fingers to my lips, kissing them, “—chef’s kiss.”
Simon snakes his arm around my shoulders when I’m finished dressing. “Wanna grab some lunch? Mexican? Italian? Oooh, what about Thai?”
My stomach grumbles. “I could absolutely fuck with some Thai, but I’m heading to Hank’s with Carter.”
“Dinner?’
“Can’t.” I’ve got a large and extremely sexy hockey player at home who flies out later tonight. I plan to make use of our fleeting hours.
Simon puts his hand over his heart. “You’re killing me, Beckett.”
There’s an easiness to my laugh. Things have been smooth sailing with Simon since his apology. Our upcoming show means lots of late nights together practicing and finishing on the floor of the studio with a box of takeout. Things have been perfectly platonic, and it feels nice to have a friend.
“We can do Thai tomorrow,” I tell him.
“Deal.” With a hug, he sends me through the front door, where Carter is waiting by the curb.
“Jennie,” Carter calls rather loudly, arms waving. “Jennie! I’m right here!” His legs eat the distance between us as he scowls at Simon. “Jennie,” he scolds, tucking me beneath his arm. “What have I told you about hanging out with douchebags?”
“Don’t?”
“That’s fucking right.” He opens my door and gives Simon a dazzling smile. “Bye, Steve!”
Carter’s overprotective dad-bro stints—especially the ones where he’s intent on embarrassing me via shouting my names and waving like one of those wacky inflatable flailing arm things you see at car dealerships—are beyond irritating, but I’m too happy to care right now.
He’s been especially suffocating since the movie theater shitstorm with Kevin. He blames himself, which is absurd, but Carter’s always been one to think he could’ve somehow been better. He thinks he should’ve dropped everything to be with me when Garrett mentioned I had a bad day. The only good thing to come out of this is Carter not questioning me and Garrett getting closer as friends.
Anyway, Carter’s been extra attentive, which means by the time we’re at Hank’s, I’m unwrapping my breakfast sandwich from McDonald’s while sipping my apple crisp macchiato from Starbucks, because Carter went through two different drive-thrus for me.
“How come she got Starbucks and I’m drinking McDonald’s coffee?” Hank grumbles.
“You like McDonald’s coffee! You said you prefer it!”
“I think you’re making things up,” Hank argues, nudging me with his elbow when Carter sighs loudly. “Riling him up is so much fun.”
“I totally agree.” I slip Dublin a bite of my hash brown. “That’s why you and I are such great friends.”
“So how come Carter picked you up today? Didn’t he lend you one of his cars?”
“It’s snowy today. I get anxious driving in the snow.” And sometimes I accidentally run into stop signs in my brother’s hundred-thousand-dollar Benz; sue me.
Hank’s hand searches for mine. He squeezes, and so does my heart. “That’s okay, sweetheart. You drive when you feel comfortable.”
“In the spring, I think.”
“Well, how you gonna get to school then?” Carter asks, huffing.
“The same way I did before. On the bus.” I watch as he peels apart his breakfast sandwiches and proceeds to stack all three sausage patties together. He’s acting grumbly, but he’s actually in a good mood because he and Olivia went for an ultrasound this morning. So I try my luck. “Garrett gave me a ride this morning.”
Two rides, technically. One to school, and before that, one on his face. Both were enjoyable, but the latter more so, for obvious reasons.
Carter’s head whips. “Huh?”
I take an extra-large gulp of my coffee, nodding. “I ran into him this morning. He offered to drop me off.”
“Oh.” Carter blinks. Three times. Then he lifts his triple-decker sandwich to his mouth and takes a gigantic bite. “O-tay. Dat nice ub him.”
“You’re nearly twenty-nine years old. Would it kill you to swallow before you speak?”
Hank pats my hand. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Carter can’t be changed.”
Maybe, but a year ago I would’ve never expected him to be sitting here playing the audio of his unborn baby’s heartbeat on repeat.
“Doc said his heart’s beating at a hundred-and-sixty-two beats per minute. Faster than the rest already.”
“Only you would be competitive about fetal heart rates,” I murmur.
Hank grins. “Guess you never heard the old wives’ tale that a high heartbeat is a sign of a girl?”
Carter snorts. “Yeah, okay, Hank. Whatever.”
“Ireland and I always wanted a little girl,” Hank says wistfully. “Tried for years, and it shattered her when it didn’t work. My heart broke because I couldn’t give her what she wanted, and I wanted to give her the whole world.” He pats the corner of his eye and smiles, clasping both our hands. “Might’ve taken a lot longer than I thought, but eventually I got my girl and my boy. Maybe a little more arrogant than I’d imagined, but I love you both all the same, and I know Ireland brought you into my life.”
My nose tingles and wrinkles. “I don’t come here to cry, Hank. Stop making me feel things.”
“Someone’s got to. You two Beckett’s tend to be pretty closed off until someone comes knocking on your walls.” His gaze wanders, and he manages to make me feel like he’s staring right into my soul when it finally stops, pinpointing me. “Carter’s already let someone knock down his walls. When are you going to let someone do the same for you?”
“Jennie!”
I glance over my shoulder in my strut across the lobby. The strut would be more impressive if I hadn’t settled on my moccasin slippers when leaving this morning. To be fair, I was in a rush. Garrett got me naked, then he got me dressed. Then I accidentally got him naked, and then we accidentally tumbled into the shower, and I’m betting the imprint of the shower tiles is still lingering on my knees. My point is I had exactly one minute to change into fresh clothes and slip on a pair of shoes.
Emily dashes toward me from the concierge desk. “Oh, you’re here. Thank God.”
I press the call button for the elevator. “I live here. Where else would I be?”
“I’ve been waiting for an hour already.”
“Waiting for what? Waiting for me? Why?”
She follows me into the elevator, slumping against the wall. “I lost my keys.”
“Sucks to suck.”
She levels me with an unimpressed look, sticking her tongue out at me. I stick mine right back. “They’re having a new set made for me, but they won’t be ready until tonight, so I need somewhere to go.”
“Where are you going to go?” I ask as I exit the elevator. Looking over my shoulder, I find her waiting behind me, hands clasped under her chin, eyes as bright as her hopeful smile. “Oh come on. Me?”
“Please,” she begs as I unlock my door. “Garrett’s the only other person I know here. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me and him alone in his apartment, even though I wouldn’t try anything.”
“Garrett can do whatever he wants.” It’s not a lie, I guess, but it feels like one, simply because I don’t like it.
Emily rolls her eyes. “Oh please.”
“We aren’t dating.”
“Okay, Jennie. You’re not dating and you wouldn’t care if he and I were alone for a couple hours in his apartment because you’re totally not jealous because you’re just fucking so it’s no big deal.”
Pinning my arms across my chest, I arch a brow. “Is this any way to get yourself invited into my apartment?”
She folds her hands together again, pouting.
“You know I don’t have any wine.”
“Yes, Jennie, I know.” There go her eyes again. I think she might roll them as much as I do. “I don’t care. We don’t need liquor to have fun.”
The corner of my mouth quirks when I realize I said nearly the exact words to Krissy just days ago.
“Please?” She grips my shoulders, giving them a shake. “Please, please, please.”
I groan, and she cheers, whooping a fist through the air as she pushes by me and makes herself at home in my apartment.
Literally right at home. She kicks off her shoes, tosses her purse and coat to the couch, and starts snooping through all my shit. It only takes her five minutes to make it to the last stop in my apartment, which is my bedroom, and I haven’t been able to stop her from going through a single thing. She’s highly entitled and nosy, and kinda reminds me of Carter.
Emily does a slow spin, humming her approval. Her eyes land on the small stand beside my bed, the drawer half-open, and I all but throw myself on it, nearly putting it through the wall and tackling Emily to the floor. My giggle is high-pitched and anxious as fuck. “Yeah, so, maybe don’t open that.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It’s private.”
Realization dawns, her smirk slow, irritating, and arrogant. “You have a sex toy in there, don’t you?”
Heat rockets up my chest, into my face, right to the tips of my ears as my shrill giggle pierces the air. “No. What? No. Ha. That’s…ridiculous.” I hang my head. “It’s more like a collection.”
“Well, well, well,” she murmurs. “Jennie’s a dirty little girl.”
“I’m not at all surprised Garrett sees your toys as allies, not enemies. We love a man who knows how and when to incorporate some battery-powered boyfriends to increase his lady’s pleasure. Garrett can be such a sweetheart, and he’s head over heels for you, so.”
“He is not,” I mumble, using my teeth to tug my scarf higher. Emily goaded me into a late lunch, so now we’re walking through downtown Vancouver, braving the fierce weather conditions.
Okay, it’s light flurries, but still.
“So you’re telling me the man—who can get virtually any woman he wants, by the way—has willingly gone without sex for the last two-plus months to fool around exclusively with you, and he has no feelings for you?”
“Correct.”
“You can’t seriously believe that.”
“Well, maybe not, but he hasn’t come right out and said it. I don’t want to assume anything.”
“But you guys broke the rules last night. You slept over.”
“So?”
“Jennie.” She grips my arms, shaking me. “Guys don’t break rules! That means he likes you!”
Heat rushes into my cheeks despite the cold wind that slaps at them. “I’ve been thinking of making a move,” I admit as she ushers me inside a warm café. “He asked me on a date, sort of. At first I thought he was just being nice because it’s Valentine’s Day, so he felt like he should do something special, but he seemed nervous about it…” My mind wanders to the way Garrett blushed and fumbled over his words. “He was so cute.”
“That sounds positive to me. I think you should go for it.”
“Yeah?” I pull off my mitts as my body starts to thaw. “I guess I’m nervous. This is all new to me, and he’s Carter’s friend, so I’m worried about messing things up.” My eyes drift over the small café, all the happy people warming up with something hot. Everything smells so good, and as my gaze coasts over a lean man with a Toronto Maple Leaf baseball cap on, over to the menu, I’m considering ordering one of everything.
My head swivels fast enough to give me whiplash.
“Oh my God,” I mutter from behind the hand I clap over my face, turning my back on the man in the blue and white hat. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What?” Emily glances over my shoulder. “Ex?”
“How do I manage to avoid him for six years and somehow run into him twice in the last week?”
“No offense, Jen, but he looks like a dipshit.”
“He is a dipshit. But I still don’t want to see him. Mind if we go somewhere else?”
She’s already marching toward the exit.
It’d be nice to get out of here unseen, but I haven’t ever been that lucky. So I’m not surprised when a hand wraps around my elbow, whirling me around as I step outside.
In what world does he think it’s acceptable to ever lay a hand on me again, and all while grinning?
“Twice in one week? C’mon, Jennie. This has gotta be a sign.”
“Get your hand off me, Kevin,” I bite through gritted teeth. “Right the fuck now.”
“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that.”
Emily steps between us. “My friend asked you to take your hand off her, Kevin. Do you have a hearing problem or a comprehension problem?”
“Whoa.” He pulls his hand back, raising both in surrender. “Calm down.” His eyes glide over me, and I hate the way they heat when they do. Most of all, though? I hate how they light with intrigue, humor, like this is all some fun joke to him. “You’ve gotta get over it, Jennie. It’s been years.” He lifts a shoulder, like having someone make and leak a sex tape of you without your consent is no big deal. “You looked hot.”
A bitter, disbelieving chuckle leaves Emily’s lips and she places her hand on my shoulder, angling me away from Kevin. Her mouth dips to my ear. “On a scale of one to ten—”
“Twenty.”
“And are you opposed to violence?”
“Not at all.”
“Great.” She spins back to Kevin, her grin so expansive, so conniving as she steps into him. “Hey, Kevin?” she asks, syrupy sweet.
His eyes bounce between us. “Yeah?”
Her fist connects with his nose with a crack that echoes in the chilled air, along with the collective gasp from onlookers passing by.
She wipes the blood off her knuckles. “Go fuck yourself.”
As Emily loops her arm through mine, towing me away from the man clutching his face, the most startling revelation comes to light.
Despite that she’s slept with the man I’m falling for, I actually…like Emily.
