My Kind of Beautiful (Finding Love 2)

Before I can say a word, though, Chase speaks up. “Look, I’m going to look for my own place, but until I find something, I won’t bring any more women here.”

“You don’t have to find your own place,” I tell him. “But yeah, maybe you could hang out at their place instead…” We talked about this before, but it was because I didn’t want to upset Lexi. I’m assuming since Lexi and I were gone, he thought it would be okay.

“Done,” he says. “I’m going to head out.” He walks over to Georgia’s room. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Okay,” she says softly. “Thanks.”

He steps back out, and with a shake of his head, he grabs his keys and disappears out the door.

The rest of the afternoon is spent watching reruns of the girls’ favorite shows and eating pizza that we have delivered. We all fall asleep in the same bed, just like old times, and in the morning, when I get up to go to work, leaving them both asleep, I feel like shit is finally getting back to the way it was before that asshole Jason fucked everything up.

When I get to the station, Chase is already there, talking with the other guys. “You never came home last night?” I ask.

“I did, after you guys were asleep, and I left before you. Figured I would give them some time to calm down. I also replaced Georgia’s stuff. Left it in the bathroom for her.”

“Thanks, man,” I tell him. “They’ll get over it. You don’t have to find a new place to live.” After he left, and Georgia calmed down, she felt bad for making Chase feel like he needed to move out.

“Eh, I’m newly single, and you’re about to be married…I never planned to stay with you forever.” He shrugs. “Are you and Lexi planning to get your own place after you get married?”

“We haven’t really discussed it.” I can’t imagine her living anywhere without her sister. Those two have been inseparable for as far back as I can remember.

My phone dings with a text from Charlie, Lexi and Georgia’s mom, letting everyone know they’ll be hosting a dinner Friday night after Georgia’s graduation and to please RSVP, so she knows how many people to order for.

“You going to the dinner?” I ask Chase, who laughs.

“Ah, no. That girl can’t stand the sight of me. I think me breathing personally offends her. I’m not about to ruin her graduation by being there.”

“I don’t think you offend her,” I say with a laugh. “Just you fucking all those women so loudly that Georgia feels like she’s forced to listen to a porno.” I clasp him on his back. “I’m going to get a workout in, you coming?”

“Always.”

Lexi

“Lexi, you ready to go to the meeting?” Georgia asks through the door.

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” I climb onto my feet and flush the toilet, then wash my mouth out and brush my teeth for the third time this morning. The last several days I haven’t been feeling so hot. It started when Alec and I were away, but I ignored it. It wasn’t too bad, and I figured I probably just ate something that didn’t agree with me, or I was stressed and exhausted from everything that’s happened the last few weeks.

But then, the morning Alec left to work after returning from our trip, I went over to my parents’ house to visit with them and get my insurance information so I could make an appointment with a therapist. As I walked through their door, the smell of bacon cooking hit my nostrils and I ran to the bathroom to throw up. I knew right then something was wrong. Very wrong.

I step out of the bathroom and Georgia is standing there, assessing me with her knowing, sisterly eyes. I release a harsh breath and she envelops me in a hug. She doesn’t ask and I don’t say anything. We don’t need to.

Twenty minutes later, we walk into Klein’s, an upscale bistro downtown. Our gazes both search for the woman we’re meeting. “I think that’s her,” Georgia says, nodding toward a gray-haired older woman sitting in the corner. She’s dressed in an expensive looking pant suit and her hair is pulled up into a tight chignon.

“You can do this,” I tell her, squeezing her arm. “And I’ll be with you the entire time.”

“Are you Hilda Reynolds?” she asks when we approach.

The woman glances up and smiles stiffly. She has brown eyes, as opposed to Georgia’s green and nothing about her reminds me of Georgia. They might be related, but they don’t look it. “I am.” She stands and extends her hand, which Georgia takes. Kind of weird that a woman meets her granddaughter for the first time in years and she shakes her hand instead of hugging her. Our grandma from our dad’s side can’t hug us enough when she comes home from traveling.