Cross (The Gibson Boys 2.5)

“Go get her,” she interrupts again. “Just go see her. No expectations because you were the problem in that relationship.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know it. I’m not going to lie to you.”

Blowing out a breath, I look at the ceiling. “What if it’s just that she’s so familiar to me, Had? What if we broke up for a reason and I’m an idiot to want something again? I mean, I don’t even know her these days. What if I’m relying on this idea I’ve had in my head all these years?”

“Then you go get her, like I told you. Take her to lunch. Take her for a walk,” she says. “Just spend some time with her. If it’s some stupid crush from back in the day, you’ll toss her out like you do the rest of the whores from the bar.”

“Be nice,” I tease.

“I’m not about to be nice,” she states. “Crave is the worst thing to happen to you and Machlan Gibson ever.”

A smile tickles my lips. “I thought we weren’t talking about Machlan.”

“We aren’t. I gotta go. I have a date with a guy that isn’t an egotistical bar owner.”

“Oh, the pudfucker I met? The one that looks like he has a corncob stuck up his ass?”

“He’s nice, Cross. You should be happy I met a nice guy.”

“You met a pussy, that’s what you did. He’s your version of a bar whore.”

“I met him in a library,” she deadpans.

“Okay. Book whore.”

“That’s not how you use that term.” She laughs.

“It’s a term? I thought I made it up.” I shrug.

“You didn’t. And I gotta go. Have a good night, brother.”

“You, too, Had.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

Eight

Cross

It’s a gamble, a big risk, one I’m not entirely sure is going to pay off, but one I feel absolutely certain about making. My conversation with Hadley last night put a few things in perspective and, although I’d never tell her she might be right, she might really be. It’s worth a shot, anyway.

Taking the steps two at a time, I press my finger on the doorbell. Footsteps fall against the hardwood floors on the other side before the door pulls open.

My chest fills like it does every time I see Kallie. I fight the stupid smile that plays on my lips, but it’s no use—I’m grinning like a fucking loon.

“Hey,” she says, her fingers playing at the hem of her shirt. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was driving by Carlson’s a bit ago and saw they had Cobb salad on the sign. I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat.”

“You remember that I like Cobb salad?”

“With extra avocado and bacon, no egg, right?”

Her eyes light up as she grins. “Yeah.” She laughs. “That’s right.”

“So, wanna go?”

She looks over her shoulder before turning her attention back to me. “Um, sure. Let me get my shoes and purse and I’ll meet you outside, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

In a few minutes, we’re sitting in the cab of my pickup and heading down the road.

“My shoulders are sore,” she says, working her arm in a circle. “How do you punch all day and still have use of your extremities?”

“You get used to it. Do it long enough and your muscles get built up.”

“That explains a lot.”

I look at her quickly before turning my attention back to the road. “That explains what?”

“Your arms,” she gushes, wrapping a hand around my bicep. “They’re ridiculous, Cross, and your back. Is that from boxing?”

“Been checking me out?” I love that she’s looked hard enough to take notice.

“No. Well, yeah.” She smirks. “It’s kind of hard not to. You look good.”

“And here I thought it was my charm drawing you in.”

She smacks my arm before pulling her hand away. “Your charm is better, but it’s still not your forte.”

“So you only want me for my body? That’s what you’re saying?” I joke.

“No!”

“I mean, it’s okay. I have no problem being wanted for my body—none. I’ll strip right now if it’ll help.”

“You’re too much.”

Chuckling, I pull the truck into the parking lot of Carlson’s. We climb out and meet at the front then, without thinking, I take her hand in mine. Her small palm is delicate and fits inside mine like it was designed for this purpose alone. I expect her to pull it away, but much to my surprise, she just looks up at me and smiles.

Once inside, we take a seat next to the front windows. Before I can get a word out, Veronica is halfway across the building. “Kallie Welch!” she squeals. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Hi, Veronica.” Kallie gets to her feet and greets Veronica with a hug. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’ve seen you,” she says as Kallie settles back in. “Where have you been? Are you home now?”

“Yeah, I’m home now. Cross saw you had Cobb salad on the menu for today and picked me up.”