Page 55 of Getting Over You

“I was, yeah.” Gigi adverts her gaze, becoming fascinated with the lights strung above our heads. “We got some food and some ice cream. We were going to go play a game, and then—”

“And then I showed up,” I guess. “Right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Not much of a carnival date.”

“I’m sorry about that. Still.”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it,” Gigi says, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. “Can we not talk about it?”

I had a feeling she’d react this way. If I said something stupid when I was drunk, she wouldn’t tell me. “Sure. Yeah.”

She smiles at me, all signs of worry disappearing.

I decide to pivot entirely. “How’s Belinda? She still dating?”

Gigi sighs. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”

I laugh. “What does that mean?”

“She’s started bringing dates home.”

“Oh. That’s…” Thinking about it for even a second makes me ill. “Wow.”

“That’s not the worst of it, though. Oh, no.” I raise my eyebrows, waiting. “I came downstairs this morning to have coffee before work, right? There’s a guy, probably no older than me, standing in a sweatshirt and boxers in front of our open fridge. He was drinkingmilk.He was drinking milk right from the jug.”

“Oh, no way.”

“Yes. I don’t know if him being a slob is the worst part, or if him being young enough to be mistaken for her son is.”

I wince at the thought. “Really?”

“The kid was wearing a University of South Carolina hoodie. I don’t think it gets clearer than that.”

“Any tattoos?” I ask.

Gigi winces. “I was too mortified to care about that.”

“Fair.”

“I want food,” Gigi decides as we walk. “Preference?”

I shake my head. “You’re showing me how these dates work. You pick.”

“Cotton candy first,” she says with a grin. “You can’t come to a carnival and not get cotton candy, Cade.”

I don’t disagree with her.

I don’t have a clue how this carnival date thing is supposed to work, but Gigi is happy. So, I’m happy.

It’s been fun, really, to watch her float around all night like a hyper kid with too much sugar in their system. I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in a long time.

Not with anyone but Gigi.

I can’t stop thinking about her. Every second, my mind goes to her. Those blue eyes, her smile, her laugh when I try to be funny. I like making her happy.

I know I’ve made my intentions with her clear; I want her in my bed, not my heart. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

I can’t give Gigi the relationship she craves—the stability, the significance—but I selfishly want to keep her as close to me as she can be. And away from the other guy.

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