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While the rest of his friends had long since abandoned their girlfriends and dates, Gibsie hadn’t taken more than three steps away from Claire all night.
Our eyes met, green on green, and he winked at me from across the room. And just like that, I was ruined.
“You can’t tell me what to do, Joe,” I growled, feeling a combination of drunk and dizzy. “You don’t own me.” “Well, that’s bad fucking luck on my account, because you sure as shit own me!” Drunk or not, his words hit me like a wrecking ball to the chest. Feeling the air whoosh from my lungs, I glared up at him, feeling a torrent of emotions crashing through me. “Why would you say that to me?” “Because it’s the truth.” “Since when?” “Since I was twelve.”
Because every part of me loved every part of her. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
“It’s you,” he repeated gruffly, fingers tightening on my waist. “I pick you. Every single time.”
“I’ll love you the right way this time,” he whispered, and his breath fanned my cheek. “If you’ll show me how.”
“I’m not your mother or your sister. I’m not another girl who needs something from you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly wants you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly loves you. The hurler. The mechanic. The boy. The protector. The asshole. The lover. The addict.”
I couldn’t understand it, much less explain it, but when I was with her, I felt like I was drowning and breathing at once. I felt like I was riding this thrilling wave, and it didn’t matter if I fell or not because I could only land on softness.
“Get your bag,” he instructed. “I’ll get the bottle.” “Already on it,” I replied, bumping his fist with mine as we moved in opposite directions.
“Fine. Do it for your future father-in-law.” I gaped at him. He grinned back.
derisive
The sincerity in his voice and the vulnerable look in his eyes assured me that not only was my sister’s heart on the line here, but so was his. Poor fucker had gone and caught himself some big old feelings. For my sister, of all people. Go figure.
A moment later, Loretta Lynn’s “The Pill” drifted from the speaker.
he settled on Bowling for Soup’s “Girl All the Bad Guys Want.”
sanctimonious
Pregnant. She was pregnant. With a baby. With my baby. Get the fuck up and take care of her. Stop thinking about yourself, you fucking pussy. Don’t even think about pretending that you don’t care. It’s yours and you care. She’s yours and you care. It does matter and you do care.
“Then at least he’ll be ruined with love and not pain.”
Being with her was like breathing. I didn’t know I needed the air, but I knew that I would die without it.
All I could see was her. The girl from the wall.
Except for her. Yeah, she was my only exception.
Daddy likes to call him Paul the prick.”
“Maybe before they moved on, someone wanted to make sure his first love had a fighting chance with her first love.”
Susans,
