Page 75 of Getting Over You

“My compliments to Rory, then. You used to ask me for outfit advice.”

Gigi rolls her eyes. “Uh huh.”

“How are things with artist guy?” I ask, now that I’ve broached the subject yet again. “You decide to invite him?”

“Do youthinkI decided to invite him, Cade?” Gigi asks playfully. She leans herself into me again, letting her head fall onto my shoulder. I loop an arm around her, pulling her so she’s resting between my legs.

I already know my answer, of course. I want to hear her say it.

Chapter twenty-five

Of course, Cade,I think.Of course, I wouldn’t invite a man to a gathering where I’m silently praying a different man gives in and has his way with me.

Sometimes, I think he says stupid things purely to annoy me.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” he whispers into my ear. His breath is warm, sending shivers down my spine.

“I ended it,” I lie. “Not my type.”

“That’s not very hopeless romantic of you, Gigi,” Cade warns. “He might have been husband material.”

“I’m not looking for husband material.” Cade moves my hair away from my neck, the sudden chill of the breeze on my skin.

“Good,” Cade growls into my ear. “Because that’s not what I am.”

My breath catches in my chest. I’m nearly gasping. “Good,” I reply. “That’s not what I want.”

Suddenly, the fireworks begin, the sound resounding. Color lights up the sky, lines of sparkle dotting the dark. I’ve been so focused on Cade since we got to the beach, I didn’t realize the sky had darkened completely. I crane my neck, wanting to look, and Cade lightly tugs at my hair. “Focus on me, princess.”

“The fireworks,” I whine.

“Do you want to watch fireworks?” he asks. I nod. I need a distraction before it’s too late. Before I make a grave mistake and willingly hand my heart to someone who has every intention of not keeping it whole.

“You’ve never done this,” Cade realizes, chuckling softly into my hair.

I turn to look at him. “I’m not avirgin, Cade.”

“You don’t understand that by spending your night in bed with me, you’ll be my own personal firework show. Now come here and give me a kiss.”

When Cade pulls me down into him and takes my mouth, I don’t fight him. It’s the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, and when he pulls back from me, we’re both breathing hard. He can take whatever he wants from me and break me into tiny, unrecognizable pieces when he’s done.

I don’t care.

I love him and that mouth too much to care.

“When’s your birthday?” I blurt. My breath is quick, ragged. We’re in the dark of his room, and going solely by my sense of touch and sound isn’t doing my mind any favors.

He groans with want, frustration, probably a little agony. “Gigi. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your birthday,” I squeak. “When is it?”

He pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him. He kisses my jaw, up, up, up, toward the birthmark behind my ear. “August fourth,” he breathes. Goosebumps cascade down every inch of me. “My birthday… It’s August fourth. But why,” he pulls his face away from me, wincing, taking his bottom lip between his teeth like a casualty of circumstance, setting it free but not without marks, “in the hell do you—”

“I need to feel close to you,” I tell him quietly, pulling him into my chest, “before we do this.”

Fireworks pop outside.Pop, fizzle, pop, pop, fizzle. Routinely. Until the finale, when there’s going to be nothing but the booming rain of fireworks sounding off. I can’t wait for it. “Isn’t this close enough?” he whimpers. He traces his calloused thumb along my bottom lip. “Tell me this is close enough for you, princess. Please.”

Jesus fucking—

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