Page 115 of Getting Over You

“And the fact that you can’t even come up with your own apology and have to use a quote from EJ about how much of a—”

“Asshole, I know.”

“And the worst of it is that I was falling—”

“You loved me,” Cade says. “I know. And I took advantage of that without even knowing it. I’m sorry, Gigi. I don’t know what I can say or do to make you believe me, if anything at all. But—” He stands, pulling at the hem of his T-shirt until it’s off his body entirely.

“What are you…” And then I see it. A heart, bright red, tattooed where his heart would sit under his skin. If he had one. “What is that?”

“You told me that first night at the bar that I should tattoo a heart where mine would be.” Cade slides his shirt back on and resumes his spot with me on the porch. “When I found out you left town the other day because of me, before I could apologize… It made me realize you actually took my heart with you when you left. I’ve had one the whole time. It’s just that you were the one who made me realize it was there.”

I shake my head. My thoughts are processing in slow-motion. I’m still registering that he’s here, now, actually standing in front of me saying the words I never thought I’d hear.

And he got a tattoo for me. Cade Deans, the man who refuses to feel anything, did that gesturefor me.

“You got a tattoo for me,” I say with a chuckle. “Cade.”

“You did it first,” Cade challenges. “Princess.”

I roll my eyes.

“But I mean it,” Cade continues, taking my hands in his own. I look down at our intertwined fingers beside myself. “I will nevermake you feel bad about anything ever again. You can celebrate every birthday. We can have dinner every Tuesday to celebrate being together another week. I don’t—I don’t care about any of it, Gigi. I don’t care about the little love fests because… I only want them with you.”

I sigh. “That’s impossible, Cade.”

“It’s not!” he promises. I stare at him, blinking, confused. “I decided the other night that I’m not drinking anymore. I hated that I was so mean to you about my birthday. I will never talk to you that way again. I can promise that. I had my last beer, and I will never drink another.”

“I was going to tell you I loved you,” I say with a chuckle. I drop my hands from Cade’s and place my head in my hands, the weight of my words embarrassing me yet again. “At your birthday picnic. I was going to tell you how I felt and hope you realized over our time together that you felt the same way. That you loved me, too.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to say that,” Cade says softly, not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t realize I felt the same way yet.”

I furrow my brow at him.

Then he explains the past seventy-two hours. He says he quit working at the diner, but not before telling Belinda off and making sure she knew what a horrible person she was.

“You did that?” I say, skeptical.

Cade nods. “Sure did. Nobody talks about or to my girl that way.”

My girl.My heart flutters.

“Then what?” I ask as our knees knock together. I want to hear everything, know everything. I don’t want him to ever stop talking.

He tells me he had a heart-to-heart with Eddy over his last beer he’ll ever drink. “And then,” Cade says, “he told me something that I know you’ll like.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “What’s that?”

“He told me,” Cade clears his throat, gearing up his best gravelly Eddy voice, “Cade, kiddo. Life is short, and things go south real quick all the time. If you feel anything for that girl, you tell her. I promise she’ll want to hear it. If you don’t, you might regret it when you’re fifty and have ball cancer.”

I laugh. “I’ll have to thank him, then, huh?” Cade nods once, smiling at me, all dimples. “Who was his regret? And is it really in his balls, the cancer?”

Cade shakes his head, chuckling. “Lung. But he’ll keep telling people otherwise. That’s what he does. The thing is, Eddy doesn’t have any regrets. That’s what he told me—when he started feeling a certain way about my aunt, even though it scared him shitless, he told her. He didn’t deny it or try to pretend the feelings weren’t there. He just said it. They were married a few weeks later.”

“I’m not marrying you,” I tell Cade. “And definitely not within weeks of knowing you. By that logic, we should have been married a few weeks already.”

He laughs, his fingers tracing on the skin of my thighs. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

I swallow, a wave of nausea coming over me. “I don’t know what to do with these, Cade,” I whisper.

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