Page 49 of Getting Over You

Chapter seventeen

Idon’t like seeing girls cry. That’s where I draw my line in the sand. You cry, I’m out. Sorry, but I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with it.

Unless, apparently, you’re Gigi Knox.

When she got teary and sad over Belinda, my first instinct was to get her ice cream to make the sadness stop. Then I drove to the beach and told Gigi to find a spot—we were going to sit and watch the waves, calm ourselves. Anything to make those pretty eyes stop filling with tears. It pisses me off how much Gigi lets Belinda affect her. I wish she didn’t care so much about remaining cordial, and cared more about respecting herself. She’ll do anything for anybody, even at her own expense.

Thinking about it as I watch her eat her ice cream makes my jaw tick.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

“It’s something that pisses you off,” she says, taking a spoonful of ice cream and wiggling her toes in the sand. “Your jaw does a thing when you’re pissed off.”

“You’ve been paying attention,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “You know, for somebody who doesn’t want serious stuff, you’re a great boyfriend.”

My brow furrows. “Huh?”

“Getting me ice cream,” she explains. “No one has ever done that for me. Marcus, my ex, he knew that I used ice cream as an emotional support,” hearing her call ice cream her emotional support makes me laugh and she glowers at me, “and yet never, not once, brought me any.”

“I didn’t bring it,” I say. “I purchased it.”

She waggles her spoon at me. “Same thing. Thank you, Cade. You aren’t that much of an asshole.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.”

She shoves me, and I have to reach my arm out to steady myself. She lowers her gaze to the tattoos on my arm. “Did they hurt?”

“The tattoos? No. They didn’t hurt.”

“Would it hurt me?” she wonders.

“What’s your pain tolerance like? It all depends.”

She considers this. “Low.”

“Then maybe tattoos aren’t your best idea.”

“I don’t hate them,” she says. “I hate theideaof getting them.”

“It’s nerve-wracking for people.”

“Have you had someone get scared halfway through?” she asks. “Like, you’re doing this big thing on somebody and they decide halfway through they’re not interested anymore?”

I laugh. “Nothing quite like that. More like girls like you regretting their choices.”

She pouts. The look goes straight to my groin.God damn, Gigi.“What doesthatmean?”

“I see a lot of people get ink spontaneously, without thinking it through. There’s removal, sure, but it’s expensive, difficult, and more importantly, a pain in my ass as an artist. I don’t want to be responsible for removing your boyfriend’s name from your collarbone, you know?”

I see the gears turning in her brain. She plays with the sand near her feet. “I wouldn’t get anyone’sname,” she promises. “But I think the collarbone is a good spot for a tattoo.”

I watch her brain work, and I’m amazed. “You considering it, princess? A tattoo?”

“I’m not in the mood, Cade,” she says, flat. “But how bad could it be, really? A couple little pinpricks, right?”

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