Page 89 of Wish You Would

I blinked, his words triggering a replay of something Parker said last night.

You can’t get out of your own way long enough to let yourself be happy.

“I…Luke, what the fuck?” I sank back against the counter, wind knocked out of me.

He leaned next to me, close enough that our shoulders brushed. “I’m not saying this to be an asshole. I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

I scoffed. He narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” I relented. “Then why?”

“Because, when you sang with the band, you lit up. After that first performance, you were singing all the time. While cooking, or doing laundry, or even scrolling your phone.” He looked over at me, shaking his head. “I’d never heard you do that.”

Luke’s words stopped me cold. “That can’t be true.”

“You’ve been living with me for almost a year, and I’ve never heard a single note of music from you. You listen to podcasts in your car, audiobooks around the house.” He paused, a grimace on his face. “By the way, could you maybe use earbuds when you’re listening to those?”

“What’s the matter?” I shot back. “Do my steamy romance novels get you hot and bothered?”

“Yes,” he said without missing a beat. “And it’s awkward as hell.”

I snorted at the thought of my stuffy roommate getting a stiffie from my audiobooks. “If you wanna borrow one sometime, let me know.”

He glared but didn’t rise to the bait. “Over the last couple months, I’ve watched you become a different person. First, with the band, and then with Parker.” He shook his head as if in awe. “Gigi, you were happy.”

“Are you saying I wasn’t happy before?”

He didn’t answer. Not with his words. Instead, he flattened me with a glare that said everything. My shoulders sagged under the weight of his correctness.

“I don’t know what happened with Parker,” he continued, “or the band, for that matter. But if either, or both, can be fixed, I suggest you do what needs to be done to make it happen.” Pushing away from the counter, he added, “Because mopey Gigi is so much more annoying.”

He moved out of my reach before I could punch his arm, and grinned. I glowered at his retreating back as he left the kitchen, dooming me to be alone with my thoughts.

36

36 PARKER

STEAL MY SUNSHINE

Holy Grounds was dead this morning. Sundays were always hit or miss, as far as business went, and today? Well, I was thankful it was a miss.

I hadn’t slept much last night. After I left Heathcliff’s, I drove home in a daze, thankful that Simon was asleep when I arrived. I was in no mood to rehash everything and listen to his well-meaning advice. I still wasn’t, which was why I’d snuck out this morning while he was still asleep. My reprieve wouldn’t last much longer, though, since Simon worked this morning.

Glancing at the clock, I mentally calculated how long I had till he showed up. About ten minutes. Maybe not enough time to brace myself for the whirlwind of Simon. Definitely not enough time to piece together a response to his inevitable How are you?

I could lie, I thought as I replenished the stack of small coffee cups. I could lie my butt off and buy myself some time to process everything. Just a day or two to piece my thoughts together, to piece my heart back together.

As if that’d be enough time.

Guilt wound itself around my already twisted brain. Shaking my head, I put the overstock cups beneath the counter. Nope. Clearly wouldn’t be lying to my best friend today.

“Great,” I muttered to myself, drawing glances from the sole occupied table in the lobby. Our writer had brought a friend this morning, and both seemed concerned for their forlorn barista. I gave them a sort-of smile and reached for a package of napkins.

Guess I’m gonna cry today after all, I thought, stocking up for the inevitable.

No sooner had I finished did Simon sail through the door.

“Hello, hi, good morning,” he sang. “How are you this gorgeous Sunday morning?”

I smiled in answer and waited as he dropped his things off in the back. Then, as if the universe was looking out for me, a group of high schoolers walked in as Simon returned to the front. Sending a silent thank you to whatever drew these kids into our shop, I slid into my spot in front of the register.

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