Page 26 of Wish You Would

“Gigi?” Anya’s eyes narrowed in on my face like lasers. “Vaughn’s Gigi?”

I nodded and kept talking. “She’s teaching me how to flirt, so that next time I talk to Halle, I’ll be able to form an actual sentence that isn’t about my vomit. So far, we’ve only had one lesson, but I think—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Anya lifted her hand to halt my soliloquy. “Gigi is helping you do what?”

“Flirt.” I lifted a shoulder. “She introduced me to Halle, then I think she felt bad about how awfully it went. And, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen her flirt, but she’s good. Like, really good. If anyone can make me less awkward when talking to pretty girls, it’s her.”

“Huh.” Anya sank back in her chair, an unreadable expression on her face. “This is an…interesting development.”

I dug my fork into my pancakes. “I’m not hoping for a miracle,” I said, lifting a bite to my lips. “I’m just hoping to say hello without getting nauseous.”

A silent laugh left my sister. Shaking her head, she dug into her own stack. “I kinda wish I’d been there,” she said. “Not that I take pleasure in your mortification, but…”

I winced. “I thought I was going to burst into flames on the spot. Kinda wish I had, honestly.”

“Oh, come on. If you’d gone up in flames, you’d have never gotten to tell me the story. Which means I never would have gotten my very first humiliating story to bring out at family Christmases.”

My mouth fell open. “No,” I said, already wishing for a deep, dark hole to crawl into just thinking about it.

Anya grinned, her green eyes sparkling with laughter. “Come on, Parks. Have a little faith.”

“You’re the worst.” I stabbed my breakfast with more force than necessary. No one had warned me about this part of having a sibling.

My demonic sister laughed as she dug into her food in earnest. We ate in silence for a bit, enjoying the deliciousness of Big Richard’s breakfast.

As we neared the end of our meals, Anya spoke again. “So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Wiping her fingers on her napkin, she added, “Vaughn is in class till seven, so I’m all yours.”

We locked eyes, a silent answer transferring in the space between us. At once, we both said, “Supernatural marathon.”

The series had become an instant common ground for us when we began building our relationship. Over the last few months, we’d made it through all fifteen seasons together, and were about halfway through our second watch now.

Laughing, I thanked the waitress as she cleared our plates away and dropped the check on the table. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine.” Anya pulled her wallet from her messenger bag and dropped some bills on top of the check.

I smirked at her. “You just want to be there when Vaughn gets home, so you two can be all disgustingly cute together.”

She glared as she stood. “Vaughn and I are a lot of things, but cute is not one of them.”

“Sure, sure.” I stood, too. “Whatever you say.” Starting toward the exit, I glanced behind me. “But you’ve never seen your face when he walks into the room.”

“Have you seen him, though?” She walked through the door I held open, and I followed. “Even when I hated him, I wanted to fuck him.”

“Oh, I know.” I quirked a brow at her. “We all knew.”

And it was true. Everyone within a ten-mile radius of Vaughn and Anya saw the sparks between them, long before either admitted it to themselves. Stubborn asses, the both of them.

“Fuck off,” she laughed, giving me a light shove. “Just for that, I’m hanging the baby butt picture up anyway.”

I skidded to a stop. “Anya,” I said as she kept walking. “please tell me you’re kidding.” She threw me a grin over her shoulder, which did nothing to reassure me. “Anya!”

“Season seven can rot in hell.” Anya aimed the remote at the TV, bringing an abrupt end to the heartbreaking scene playing out on the screen. Her eyes were bright with tears I pretended not to notice.

“You’re not wrong.” I subtly nudged the tissue box closer to her. “However, without season seven, we’d never have Charlie.”

“Are you suggesting that Charlie is an even trade for—”

“Not for a second.” I stretched my legs out on the couch, poking her thigh with my toes. “I’m merely pointing out that it’s not all bad.”

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