Page 29 of Getting Over You

“I don’t think I like that one, either,” Gigi says.

Gigi flags the bartender and gets another shot. We’re talking about the probability of Rory and EJ getting married someday when she says, “What does EJ stand for, anyway?”

“Edward James,” I say. “My uncle’s name.”

“That’s weird,” she decides. “People normally name their kid after their dad, right?”

“Usually. But EJ and I don’t know our dad. Our Uncle Eddy stepped up in that department.”

She frowns. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “It worked out. Eddy’s the one who’s gonna help me fund the tattoo shop.”

“Really.”

I nod. “You should see him. He’s a tattoo artist, too. But he’s like me,” I hold out my arms—my sleeves in full view, “on steroids. Both arms, both legs, his back…”

“God.” Gigi scowls at me. “All that.Allover your body.”

“All over,” I agree.

“Is—is that what you’re doing?” she asks. “Is that what you want to do? Eventually, maybe?”

“Eventually, maybe,” I say. I spot a few guys chatting at the end of the bar. One, sporting a backwards hat and pristine white sneakers, keeps eying Gigi.

“I guess I didn’t realize how rare it was to have a fill in,” she says. “People are raised by single parents all the time, but it’s not always that someone steps up.”

“Who stepped up for you?” I ask.

“My mom. My dad’s wife, my sister’s mom, Greta,” she says, biting her cheek. “Whatever you’d like to call her.”

“What happened with your not-mom?” I say for lack of better terminology. “Belinda?”

“She aborted the motherhood mission,” Gigi says. Her face twists as she thinks about it. “But to talk about all that, I need more drinks.”

“Why don’t we,” I say, “cool it on the drinks and start on the flirting?”

Gigi looks around, swiveling on her stool. “Do you see any prospects?”

I nod toward White Sneakers. “That guy looks good. Refined. Your type?”

She looks at him through a sidelong glance. “I do like them refined,” Gigi agrees.

I smile, then bite it back for fear she’ll think I’m making fun of her and give up altogether. “He’s been eying you,” I tell her. “Go make the first move.”

She gives me a doubtful look. “I can’t justdothat.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I need another shot first, Cade. I can’t—”

“Think about how self-assured you are when you’re telling me how not your type I am and apply that level of passion to White Sneakers over there. You’ll do fine, and he’ll buy you drinks. It’s a win-win–really.” Another doubtful look. I’m starting to understand Gigi, and I think she needs an incentive. “If this blows up in your face,” I say, “which it won’t because you look amazing, I’ll gladly take you back to the apartment—”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“—I’ll take you back to the apartment for pizza and ice cream with Rory and EJ.”

“Oh.” She blinks, considering this. “You’ll buy me ice cream?”

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