Cross (The Gibson Boys 2.5)

“Maybe it seems perfectly normal.” Unable to resist any longer, I cut the distance between us in half. With a calculated move, I raise a hand and touch the side of her face. She sucks in a breath, her skin warm and smooth under my calloused palm. “This seems perfectly normal too.”

“Cross…” She pulls her cheek away, her chin dipping to her chest. “I can’t with this.”

“You’re right,” I say, stepping back. Her gaze shoots to mine, surprised etched on her pretty features. “This isn’t the place. Meet me at the gym tonight at six. We’ll grab something to eat and take a ride or go for a walk or sit on the mats and shoot the shit.”

Before she can decline, I head for the door.

“Cross! I didn’t say—”

The door shutting behind me as I walk outside cuts off the end of her sentence. Nora is waiting.

“Kallie giving you a hard time?” she laughs.

“Never.” I chuckle, shaking my head.

“I think she’s a little shocked.”

“One question,” I say, turning around and walking backward toward my truck, the sun warming my face. “Did you know I was here?”

“Well, I knew Machlan wouldn’t have my check until Monday, and I also know you drive the silver Dodge Ram parked right over there, so you figure out what I did and didn’t know.”

A laugh I haven’t felt slip by my lips so easily in years bellows out. “Nora, I owe you one.”

“Yes, you do.”

Four

Kallie

“Do you still want to go to Peaches?” Nora asks. There’s a forced easiness to her tone, like we just didn’t walk all the way to the car and drive almost the entire way to my mother’s house in silence.

“No.”

Every step we took from the bar had me wanting to look over my shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of Cross. Every mile we pull away has me wanting to yell at Nora to turn around.

My head spins with the offer to see him again. My cheek sings with the memory of his touch. My heart aches as it absorbs the instructions from my brain to not forget the bad in favor of the good.

The endless partying with Machlan. The gossip. The rumors of wild nights without me in tow.

The two times I had to bail him out of jail for reckless driving and disorderly conduct.

His failure to take anything seriously or make a plan for the future.

A chill rips through me despite the warm summer sun.

“I really wanted a margarita,” Nora says, turning toward my mother’s house. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Peaches?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re not hungry or you’re mad at me? I’m really feeling like ‘I’m not hungry’ is a passive-aggressive and untrue response.”

“I’m not mad at you,” I say finally, watching the bright green grass roll by. “Although I know that was a setup.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Don’t lie to me.” I laugh. “You totally set that up.”

“What can it hurt?” She sighs, turning into the driveway. “I know it’s none of my business, but…”

Her forehead is creased and her knuckles re-grip the steering wheel. Settling into the soft leather seat, I lean my head against the headrest. The adrenaline recedes, leaving me with a sluggish, almost hangover-style feeling in place of the excitement from a few minutes ago.

“He always asks about you,” she says softly. “I never told you that because it felt like it didn’t matter, but he does. Every time I see him, he says hello and then his features fall a little bit and he asks how you’re doing.” She glances at me over her shoulder. “He’s not a bad guy, Kallie.”

“He never was.” The words land on my own ears and my spirits fall. “He’s just not a guy that equals forever for me. Too much bullshit with that one, no matter how much I want to pretend it’s not true. I walked away once for a reason.”

“Maybe he’s not the guy you remember.”

“Leopards don’t change their spots, Nora,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt and grabbing my purse. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Call me tomorrow. Let’s do lunch or something.” She touches my shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Climbing out of the car, I shut the door. Nora honks the horn twice before pulling onto the street.

My mom’s home sits in front of me, a little white square with dark green windows. There’s a carport on one side that offers little protection from the wind in the winter, and my stomach twists that I’ve not been able to get it replaced yet.

“Someday,” I mutter as I climb the stairs to the front door. It opens before I get to the top. “Hey, Mom.”

“I thought I heard a car out here. I’m not used to having visitors.” She smiles, letting me by. “Did you have fun with Nora, honey?”