Page 36 of Forever & Always You
“Look at me,” I say gently, tilting his jaw up. His ocean blue eyes settle on mine. “No more cold shoulders. You’re worried about something? Voice it to me and I will reassure you over and over again that I’m here because I want you in my life in whatever capacity is good with you. Friends .?.?. Friends with benefits .?.?. Dog co-parents .?.?.” I smile as Austin’s gaze softens. “I care about you. There was never a time I didn’t.”
Austin places his hand over mine on his jaw and nuzzles his face harder into my palm. “I know you’re a good person, Gabrielle,” he murmurs. “You just weren’t to me.”
My heart aches, because there is nothing I can do to change that fact. The only thing I can do now is never make that same mistake again. I lean down and kiss the top of his head.
Against his hair, I mumble, “You sure I can’t make you pancakes?”
“Fine,” he huffs. “Go fix me a big stack. Twelve miles’ worth.”
Nowthisis the Austin I was waiting for. I laugh as I pullback from him. I may have to make myself some more, too. In hindsight, throwing mine in the trash was an overreaction.
“Go shower while I get a batch going. You’re all gross.”
“Hey. It’s eighty degrees outside,” he points out.
“Felt like eighty degrees in your room last night.”
“Felt like a hundred.”
“Felt good.”
“Felt really good.” Austin smolders his eyes at me, his hand playing mindlessly with mine. “Interesting. You blush when I’m mean to you, and you blush when I .?.?.”
“Get. In. The. Shower,” I order, pulling my hand free from his and crossing back to the stove. I get the heat going again, but it pales in comparison to the heat of my cheeks.
12
Austin drives my car across town to the auto repair shop all while complaining about my beloved Prius’s pathetic acceleration, useless AC fans, and lack of parking sensors.
“If you can’t use your own eyeballs to maneuver a car, then you’re the one who has problems,” I tell him. And conveniently leave out the fact I reversed into a barrier at the mall last month.
Austin looks over at me, and I don’t know why, but the sight of him driving my busted-up car is even sexier than him driving his luxurious one. “Why’d you get rid of the car your parents got you, anyway? Did you need quick cash or something?”
“Yeah,” I lie, because it’s easier than saying:I didn’t deserve nice things.
“You really confuse me,” Austin says.
“What’s confusing, exactly?”
“You. This life you’re living,” he explains, shaking his head as he drives. “The falling behind at Duke and dropping out after losing your dad? That, I get. The rest, I don’t.”
“The rest?”
“Working odd jobs. Renting a crap apartment. Driving this pile of rust. You don’t seem to have any friends. Or ambitions. You’re .?.?.” He bites his lip and sucks in a breath, letting thewords die in his throat. “Forget it.”
I’m not even offended. My gaze never leaves his face, not once. “Finish that sentence.”
Austin scowls, reluctant to say it. His fingertips dance guiltily over my steering wheel and he at least looks me in the eye when he says, “You’re a loser.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a loser bychoice,” he adds sharply. “You could be in school. You could have started your career by now. You have a trust fund that you claim you haven’t spent, so you can absolutely afford to rent an apartment that won’t flood and own a car that isn’t billowing smoke in the rearview. You have a personality that could win so many friends, yet you only have me.”
I ignore every sentence he just spoke except the last.
You only have me.
Up until last night, I wasn’t sure I had even that.
