Page 27 of Wish You Would

Anya grunted her disagreement. Then, she grabbed my foot and yanked. I squealed as she pinned my leg under her arm and launched a full-on tickle attack on my foot.

I kicked and wriggled to no avail. “Okay, okay,” I wailed, “fine. You’re—”

The front door opening cut off my words. Anya’s eyes went wide. She dropped my foot and leapt from the couch with the grace of a drunken gazelle. “To be continued,” she tossed over her shoulder as she ran across the apartment.

I pulled my feet onto the couch and watched as she met Vaughn at the door, launching herself at him. His arms closed around her and he buried his face in the curve of her neck, deep voice rumbling as he murmured something to her.

Looking away, I searched the floor for my shoes. These two were gonna need some privacy. And soon.

As if on cue, Vaughn dropped Anya on the kitchen island, her legs wrapping around him. “God, I missed you,” she said, dragging her face to his.

I stood and made a beeline for my discarded shoes. As I stuffed my feet into them, I grabbed my bag and jacket from the armchair, then I backed toward the exit. They were gonna be awhile. Probably a long while.

“I’ll be downstairs,” I called, opening the door. “When you two are done.”

Behind Vaughn’s back, Anya gave me a thumbs up. I laughed and closed the door behind me.

Taking the staircase that led from Vaughn and Anya’s apartment to the back entrance of Heathcliff’s, I breezed by the kitchen and through the door leading into the bar. It was still early enough that the place wasn’t super crowded, but that wouldn’t last long. Ever since the reopening, the bar had become a hub for Port Agnes’s finest. And by finest, I meant nerds. I clocked the table in the corner, wrapping up their weekly D&D campaign, and the couple perusing the mural along the wall, drinks in hand.

A proud smile lifted my lips as I took it in, too, pride warming me up. Anya’s talent never ceased to amaze me.

“Hey,” a voice said, jolting me from my thoughts. I turned to find Gigi leaning against the bar, brows cocked. “Where’d you come from?”

I pointed to the ceiling. “Was up there with Anya. Then Vaughn got home.”

Gigi snorted. “Oh, yeah. You gotta evacuate fast when those two reunite, lest you see some things that will scar you for life.” Her eyes widened. “Trust me, I know.”

Laughing, I closed the space between us. “I was looking for you, anyway.” I reached into my bag and pulled out her flannel. “Here.”

Something flickered across her face as she looked at the shirt in my hand. “Ahh.” Her brow furrowed, then cleared as if it never happened. “Right. Yeah. Wondered where this was.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I shrugged and adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “Thanks for loaning it to me.”

“No problem.” She tied the shirt around her waist, then folded her arms across her chest. “So, uh.” Shifting from foot to foot, she looked at anything but me. “You planning to wait them out?” she asked, tilting her chin upward to indicate the happy couple upstairs. “Because it could be a while.”

My brain pinged as I took in her closed-off body language and the tension in her face. “I don’t have anything else going on tonight.” A lie. I had so much to do. But none of it seemed more important right now than finding out what was going on with Gigi. I pulled out a stool and sat. “Maybe I’ll just keep you company.”

She hmm’d. “You’re more than welcome to hang out,” she said as she reclaimed her spot behind the bar. “But I gotta warn you. I’m not the best company tonight.” She stashed her shirt beneath the bar and straightened to face the couple I’d noticed earlier, coming to close out their checks. She was cordial, but not friendly. Not her usual charming self.

Resting my chin in my hand, I observed as she helped several other customers, silently cataloguing her posture, her facial expressions. The smiles that never really reached her eyes.

My chest tightened, concern rocking through me.

“There ya go,” she said to the last customer, sliding their drink across the bar. “Enjoy.”

They thanked her and walked away, joining their group, and Gigi faced me once more.

My face must’ve given my thoughts away, because the moment she looked at me, her lips thinned. “Don’t do it,” she said, not looking my way as she reached beneath the bar for a glass.

“Don’t do what?”

Her dark eyes hit me with a flat look. She tipped a shot of honey whiskey over ice, then added Vernor’s, holding my gaze as she poured. “You’ve got your psychoanalyzing face on.” She perched a lime on the rim and slid my drink over. “I’m fine.”

I reached for the glass, idly wondering when I’d become a person who had a regular drink at a bar. “Yeah, well,” I countered. “You’ve got your grumpy face on.”

Gigi smirked, eyes narrowed. “Grumpy face?” She pulled a water bottle from beneath the bar and took a long swig. “Do tell, what does my grumpy face look like?”

“Well.” I squeezed the lime slice over my drink, then dropped it into the fizzy amber liquid. “For starters, your smiles are fake as hell.”

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