Page 77 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

Gracie’s cheeks flushed with annoyance. “Oh, knock it off! If we were guys, you’d be asking how big the girl’s breasts were.”

Mike actually looked affronted. “I am a gentleman!”

Gemma pointed at the door. “Whatever. You don’t want to hear, then leave the room, but as a very bored pregnant woman who has been cooped up for a month, I want details.”

“Gemma, I am not giving you sex details.”

“Thank God for that,” Mike said.

“Fine, fine! At least tell me what went wrong! If things were getting hot and heavy, why do you loathe him?”

Gracie didn’t know how she was going to put into words what she didn’t even understand herself.

“It’s hard to explain. Besides you and Mike, I’ve never really had anyone who believed in me. My parents love me, but I spend more time defending my life to them than I think is necessary.”

“Talking to the girl who got pregnant at eighteen, kicked out of her parents’ house, and spent years trying to make amends with pretty much everyone she loves.”

“Yeah, see, I know you understand.”

“I don’t, I’m perfect.” Mike took a snapping bite of his chip, smiling smugly.

Gemma glared while Gracie threw a chip at him. “Ass.”

“Anyway, besides me and, for some reason, Mike, Eric gets you?”

Gracie turned to Gemma, worry etched in her face. “I think so. Otherwise, why would he basically call my mother out on her lack of enthusiasm for my career choices? I mean, you should have seen him, Gemma. He was so calm, but he didn’t back down and just kept going. I’ve never had a guy do that.”

“Maybe because you’ve never let them get close enough to know you.”

“Hey, I’ve had other relationships,” Gracie defended.

Gemma squeezed her arm. “Gracie, your longest relationships were all with men your parents approved of, and you were miserable and uptight during the brief relationships. And every other guy you’ve sent packing before they know your favorite color. But with Eric, you’re you, warts and all.”

“Dude, I haven’t had warts since kindergarten,” Gracie joked.

“You know exactly what I mean! You fight with him and aren’t afraid to tell him exactly what you think and feel. I have never seen you like that with anyone besides the people closest to you and very few men.”

“So, you’re saying that when I’m myself, I’m outspoken and rude?” Gracie said.

“No. Outspoken, maybe, but also open, loving, funny, and loyal. I am so proud to have you in my life. All I was saying is that of all the guys you’ve ever been around, Eric is one of the few that you can be free with. As much as you mayloathehim, that’s something to consider.”

Gemma had never been stingy with the praise, but still the love and approval in her voice sent little tears spilling over Gracie’s lashes. She started waving her hand in front of her eyes and cried, “Well, shit, now you’ve done it!”

Gemma moved her plate out of the way and struggled to lean forward with her arms outstretched. Gracie met her halfway and hugged her with a laugh.

“Such a softy,” Gemma said with a definite sniffle. “You need to watch that, or people are going to think your bladder lies too close to your eyes.”

Gracie snorted at the old euphemism Gemma’s mom used whenever the girls would cry over any little thing. “That’s still disgusting, I don’t care how long the saying’s been around.”

Gemma grabbed a napkin from the tray and handed it to her. “So you’ve said.”

Loud slurping interrupted their Kodak moment, and both of them turned to look at Mike, who raised his can to them. “Don’t mind me, just the last guy in this pissant town destined to be single.”

The deep bitterness in his voice made Gracie reach out to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, what’s up with you, gloomy Gus?”

“Nothing, except now Gracie and Eric are going to hook up for good, and I’m going to be the last single man in our little group.”

Gemma and Gracie exchanged amused looks before Gracie slid over and put her arm around him. “I never said I wanted to be with Eric. Did you miss the whole loathing thing?”

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