by Lacey Dailey
Her eyes roll behind her glass. “Because it’s obvious you thought he was a douche. I don’t want to hang with somebody my best friend doesn’t like. Besides, this is supposed to be Max and Gia night. I want to spend it with you.”
It’s not like she just declared her undying love for me or asked me to be the peanut butter to her jelly, but my chest tightens anyway. My heart doesn’t get the memo that it’s not supposed to fall for her. “Do you like your drink?”
“Yeah. It’s good.” She tries to hide her smile by taking another sip. “Is it obvious I’m a club virgin?”
“Not at all. You look hot, and you’re with me.”
“Oh, that’s all it takes, huh? I just have to be hot and hang with a musician?”
“Stick with me, baby.” I tip my glass to her. “I’ll treat ya right.”
“You already do.”
There’s a lot of ways those sentences could be interpreted. We both ignore it because we’re good at ignoring the heat between us. “So, what’s it gonna take to get you to dance with me?”
Her answer surprises me. “I’ll dance with you. I love dancing. I was on the dance team.”
“I know, but that’s different than club dancing.”
She narrows her eyes at me, downing her drink. “You think I can’t keep up?”
I match her grin. “Can you?”
She pushes away her empty glass, rounding the table. Her heels bring us toe to toe. My chest heaves when she runs her hand down my arm, flashing me a smile I don’t recognize. It has trouble written all over it. “Can you keep up with me?”
“Are you challenging me, Gia Maria?”
“It can’t be a challenge when I know you’re gonna lose.”
“Oh.” I chug my beer in the most unattractive way possible and step towards her, nose to nose. Her body rocks but she doesn’t back up. “Is that so?”
“You think you can beat me at my own game?” Her hands grip my chest, her fingers twisting in the fabric of my T-Shirt. Warm breath moves across my lips, and I groan. My head spins on my shoulders—a reaction I could blame on the alcohol though it’s obviously just her touch.
“I wasn’t aware we were playing a game. What are the rules?”
Her eyes are glassy and they don’t leave mine as she speaks. “No rules. Just you, the dance floor, and me dancing circles around you.”
“And you think I’m just gonna let you show me up?”
She shrugs, wetting her lips. “I think you’re gonna let me try.”
She's right.
Securing my arm around her waist, I practically drag her to the dance floor. The second we enter the storm of sweaty bodies, her arms slip around my neck and she moves so her chest is flush against mine.
I forget how to function.
The thump in my heart I was supposed to be ignoring slams against my ribcage with the beat of the music. She’s so close—smelling like an addictive mixture of strawberries and sweat. I thread my fingers through her hair, trembling each time her breath moves across my neck.
“Max.”
I tighten the arm that’s wrapped around her waist, keeping us melted together. She lifts to her tip-toes, whispering in my ear. I almost miss her words over the blood rushing through me.
“Thank you for inviting me on your trip.”
“It’s our trip now. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
“You would’ve found your way.”
I highly doubt it.
The second she sat down in my car, the axis my world balanced on teetered just slightly. I wasn’t used to opening myself up to the possibility of somebody trying to get me to fit into a role that isn’t an acquaintance or musician. Gia opened up to me. She trusted me enough to give me pieces of herself and while I couldn’t give her everything, I was proud of myself for the pieces I could give her. Pieces no one else would ever get. Pieces saved for her not because of convenience or because she was the one I found in a diner that night, but because she’s Gia. My Gia.
Her head jerks off my shoulder. She wobbles on her heels, and I practically squeeze her so she doesn’t collapse.
“Babe, you okay?”
“That guy looks just like….” Her head shakes and she steps away from me, looking past me with big, curious eyes. “Oh my God!”
I peer over my shoulder, spotting a younger man grinning ear to ear at my girl. If the dark smooth skin and midnight black hair wasn’t a dead giveaway, it’d be the way she sprints across the dance floor and throws herself at him. Literally. She bounces on those skinny heels and flies right into his body.
I chuckle and hurry after her so I don’t get swallowed by the crowd. He’s lifted her off her feet and is swinging her around, not giving a damn her heels could knock someone on their ass if they got too close.
His eyes are dark but friendly as they meet mine over her shoulder. He smiles warmly at me, plopping Gia on her feet and extending his hand.
“Max.”
“Renzo.” I return his handshake. The dude looks like he’s made entirely of muscle. If I didn’t already know how nice he is, I’d be running for the hills. “You made it.”
Gia gasps between us, backhanding my chest. “You knew he was coming?”
“Yeah! He wanted to surprise you.”
“You liar!” This time the backhand is delivered to her brother. “You just spent an hour on the phone with me pretending to be at home.”
“I sure did.” His grin is smug as hell. “I was in the airport. I got Max’s number from Knox. He helped me set it up. He told me you’d be here tonight.”
“So, you knew I was going to a club all along?” She stumbles into my arms when a tall, drunk dude with flailing arms forgets to look behind him.
“Gia, come on, let’s get off the dance floor.”
I lead her and Renzo towards the back of the club and find a table, resting my elbows on it and admiring the smile on her face as she talks happily with her brother.
Renzo called me five days ago, asking if I could help him set something up. I agreed instantly. I’d be blind not to recognize how terribly she misses him every time she speaks of him. The amount of joy I felt just giving her a gift like this is enough to fuel me for the rest of the year.
“I’m so excited you’re here!” She squeals, her hair flying when she bounces, hands on his arm. “Are you staying in our suite?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay. Max had some dude waiting for me at the airport. He took my suitcase up to your place and then put me in a taxi and sent me here.”
She looks at me, shock paralyzing her face.
“Landon helped me out.”
“Landon picked up my brother from the airport?”
“Hell no!” I bark a laugh. “His assistant did.”
“That makes more sense. Landon is kind of an ass.” She tells Renzo.
“Should I kick his ass?”
“No, Renzo! He’s not an ass to me. That’s just like his personality. I think it’s part of his scary music manager charm.”
Renzo nods, not entirely convinced he shouldn’t roll up the sleeves on his loose fitting navy shirt and go beat the hell out of Landon for even thinking about being an ass to his baby sister.
There’s a fierceness to Renzo—a quality that can’t be missed. His dark eyes are steady and intense. He holds his head high and keeps his arms crossed over his chest. It’s clear he’s not doing it to be standoffish. It’s just in his nature. Protectiveness floats off of him in waves. I have to wonder if he came out of the womb that way or if it was a series of events when he was a kid that made him into the man he is today. Either way, I agree with Gia when she says the FBI is the perfect place for him.
When she says she needs to use the restroom, she has to convince him that she won’t be mugged or attacked during the ten steps she has to take to get to the line leading out the door. With no help from me, she argues with him until he gives in.
“I’m not normally this crazy.” He says the second
she is out of earshot.
“I’m not completely sure I believe that.” I meet his eyes. “But I also think it’s awesome the way you look out for her. I promise I’m doing the same when you’re not around.”
“I know. She told me how weird you are about letting her go into rest stop bathrooms.”
“Dude, there are some creepers in the world.”
He cocks his head. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“I’m glad you decided to come out. It’s making her day.”
“You know she’d slaughter us both if she knew we were talking about her like she was a little kid.”
“Oh, yeah.” My eyes seek her. She’s moved up one space in line and rolls her eyes when she sees me staring. “She’s pretty damn sassy.”
“She can be. Around our dad, she barely breathes, let alone speaks. I couldn’t be happier she ditched Benny and City Hall.”
“Me either. My trip would be a million times more boring without her.” I grin, thinking of the day she surprised me by knowing all the words to every rap song on my iPhone.
“You smile like that thinking about all your friends? Or just my sister?”
I snap back to the moment and focus on his pointed gaze. “I’m sorry?”
“Let’s be straight for a minute, Max.” He shifts his body, leaning against the table. If I didn’t already know it’s bolted to the floor, I would think his stature would’ve sent it crashing down. “You got the hots for my sister or what?”
“Got the hots? Dude. Who says that?”
“I do. Don’t deflect from the question.”
“Is this some sort of interrogation?”
“No, man.” He sighs, finally uncrossing his arms and running his hands through his hair. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”
“I would never hurt Gia.” I’d rather step in front of a moving truck. Gia Maria is everything to me. She’s my laughter in life. She’s my rock. She’s the reason I’m sitting on a record deal and fall asleep grinning every night to the sweet sounds of her breath and the vision of her hair falling off the edge of her bed. “She’s precious to me.”
“Precious, huh?” His jaw ticks. “Look, I know you guys do things like cuddle and shit, and that strikes me as more than friends. I know she calls you babe and refers to you as her man, but…”
“She called me her man?” My heart roars. “Seriously?”
“Uh, yeah. Like all the time. She’s never said that to you?”
“Never.” I wish she would though maybe it’s better she didn’t. It’d only make me happy in the moment. After that, I’d remember why I can never truly be hers and crumble to pile of disappointment at her feet.
“Honestly, dude? She’s probably worried you’d reject her or something.” He holds up his hands. “I’m not trying to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong because Gia would probably kill me but I’m just saying that if you are into her, tell her. If it’s all platonic, tell her that too. Maybe it’s not your intention, but you’re totally stringing her along.”
“It’s not platonic, man.” I look to her again, and something inside me begs for her, like it knows we’re too far away. “I think I’m obsessed with her.”
I’ve been obsessed with Gia Maria since the first time she demanded I order her french fries. She’s too far away to hear my words, and there’s something about Renzo’s spirit that screams trustworthy, so I barf my truth all over him.
“I’m such a confusing, selfish bastard, man.” I hang my head, picking at the skin on my hands as I talk. “I can only imagine how confusing it must be for her to be referred to as my girl, hear me call her babe a thousand times an hour, and then be hit with an offhand comment about why we’re the best friends ever.”
He claps my shoulder. “So ask her out. She likes you and so do I. It’s a win win.”
She likes me?
Hearing that from somebody so close to her makes me want to write a song about it. My heart already has all the words—my lips just have to be brave enough to sing it.
“Listen, Renzo, I’ve kept it platonic for a reason. I can’t commit to her, man.”
“Ah, yeah. Gia told me you have issues showing the skeletons in your closet. She shared you did spill some but wouldn’t tell me what they were.”
That’s because she’s loyal and pure and really fucking wonderful. “There’s just some things about myself I can’t tell her, and it’s not fair to get into a relationship with secrets.”
“Look, man. Gia doesn’t discuss your personal stuff with me at all. I just know you don’t like sharing a lot, and I only know that because she mentioned it after I asked if you were a serial killer.”
I lean closer. “You know she asked me if I sliced people up with a spatula?”
His lips twist. “A spatula? What the hell kind of weapon is that?”
“I know right?” I laugh just thinking about her scrunched nose and series of hard faces when she grilled me about a bloody spatula. “I like your sister a lot, Renzo. In another life, she’d be mine in a heartbeat, but it’d be shitty of me to ask her to step into a relationship, knowing there’s a part of me I’ll never be able to share.”
“Seems to me she already knows there’s a part you aren’t willing to share. Geez, man. You think you just walk up to someone after only knowing them for nine weeks and blurt out all your secrets? Hell no. She doesn’t expect that.”
I’ve considered this a few times, but Gia isn’t the kind of girl you date for a while and then move on from. Gia’s the kind of girl you make a life with.
The kind of girl you fall in love with.
“What about farther down the line? I can’t say for sure because I can’t see the future, but I don’t picture myself ever telling her and it isn’t the easiest thing to hide.”
“You got a secret kid or something?”
“What? No. Of course not.” A secret kid? For real? “Is that what she thinks?”
He shrugs, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “She’s never mentioned it, but I’ve always wondered.”
“No, dude. I don’t have a secret kid.”
It might be easier if you did.
“You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m going to offer it anyway. Gigi is made up of all the best traits a person can be. She has not one ounce of my father in her, thank hell. She has a patient heart. If there are things from your past you can’t share, tell her and let her decide whether she can live with the unknown. You can’t choose for her, man. This summer is going to end, and she’s gonna move on. You’ll miss out because you didn’t make a move.” He gives me a look that tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he doesn’t give a shit he’s interfering in his sister’s life if it could potentially make her happier. “Can you live with that, Max?”
Fuck. No.
I couldn’t even handle the bartender flirting her up. The idea of her with another guy has my fists clenching at my sides and anger pushing at me to make a presence.
I don’t do anger.
That’s why I can’t be with her. What happens when she gets too close? What happens when I’m in too deep, she finds out the truth, and I’m left even more fucked up than I already am? I can’t make myself vulnerable to that sort of heartbreak. Just the idea of her rejecting the person I truly am holds the weight to destroy me.
Do you truly believe she’d reject us?
His comments are irrelevant because I already know what he thinks. He was smitten the second we sat down across from her in the diner. He flipped head over ass for her the minute she held our hand. If anybody wants Gia and I together more than me, it’s Aiden. He wants this for me. Wants this for us. He wants us to make a move and take a risk.
If anyone is worth the risk, it’s her.
That I couldn’t argue with. Not even slightly disagree. If there was anyone in the world I’d spill my beans for, it’d be her. She's worked her way through every part of me.
Literally.
When she returns from th
e bathroom, still smiling beautifully, and wraps her fingers around my mine, my blood boils with the contact. When I guide her back to the dance floor and her lips hit my cheek, I almost ask her to be mine right then.
There’s no rule book for revealing the secret I have. There’s no law that says I have to tell her, and there’s nothing physically stopping me from placing my heart carefully in her hands.
There’s nothing stopping me at all.
So why can’t I do it?
13
Gigi
“Are you sure you have to leave?” My heart shrinks with the sight of Renzo stuffing his suitcase.
I missed my brother tremendously. The moment I found him standing in a man made sea of sweaty bodies, a special sort of smile folded across my lips. The kind of smile that appears when your twin brother and your best friend plot to surprise you behind your back.
It was a grand gesture if I’ve ever seen one. A gesture fabricated with me and my feelings in mind. I’m not sure anybody has ever cared enough to do something like that for me before.
Max cares.
My brother cares.
And now he’s leaving. “I feel like you just got here.”
“I’ve been here for eight days, Gigi.” I watch with wet eyes as he steps into the bathroom connected to his bedroom and reappears a moment later with an armful of shampoo and soap bottles. “Besides, you’ll see me again. It’s not like I’m moving to Africa.”
“You’re moving to Virginia.”
“I’m not moving until October. You’ll see me before that.”
There’s a heaviness in my muscles as I observe the way he fills the zip compartment of his suitcase with tiny soaps. “I’m going to be at the airport with everybody else wishing you luck, Ren. I’d never miss that. I’m really excited for you.”
He drops a soap bottle just to smile at me. “I know you are, sis. And I know you’ll be there but I’m sure dad will be too, so just know I won’t be mad if you bail.”
“Renzo, I’m not letting dad take that away from me.” I abandon my spot in the doorway and move into the room, perching on his bed beside his suitcase. “I’ve let him take too much from me already.”