Cross (The Gibson Boys 2.5)
Machlan taps the top of the bar and ventures to the far side to take an order.
Once he’s gone, Peck leans toward me, twisting his cap around backward. The typical goofball look on his face is gone. It’s replaced with one that has me biting my lip.
“She’s a good girl. I know you know that,” he says.
“Then why are you telling me?”
He grins. “You know she left before because you were a shithead, right?”
“Again, not sure why you’re telling me this,” I say, taking a swig of beer in hopes the alcohol kicks in quick.
“Look,” he says, leaning on the bar. “You didn’t ask for advice—”
“Exactly.”
His grin digs deeper. “But I’m gonna give it to ya anyway. Just don’t fuck up and everything will be fine.”
His words slice through the worry I’ve tried to keep stuffed. My gaze snaps to the bathroom to see her standing, arms over her chest, talking to Megan McCarter. I gulp. “I hope so, Peck. Damn it, I hope so.”
“It’s all in your hands, man. She’s your girl. She knows it. You know it. I know it. Hell, Megan knows it and that’s why she’s over there trying to plant some seed of doubt in her brain.”
“Megan wouldn’t do that,” I scoff. “There’d be no point. I’ve never fucked her or given her any idea that I even like her.”
Peck’s shoulders rise and fall. “I know y’all write off most of what I say, but I see a lot. You should listen to me.”
“You see a lot and then you still have the hots for Molly McCarter?” I laugh. “We’ve all seen her ass, Peck.”
His nose wrinkles as he grabs his beer. “Fuck you, Cross.” He chuckles. “That’s not the same.”
I look back at Kallie again. She’s heading our way with a furrowed brow. I toss her a smile and she returns it with enough reluctance it has me springing to my feet.
“Gonna check out the bulletin board,” Peck says, clamping my shoulder as he walks by just as Kallie arrives.
“Hey,” I say, holding out a hand. She takes it and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah.” Lifting her glass filled with a pale yellow concoction, she downs a good three gulps. “And that’s better.”
“What’s going on?”
“Not a thing. You ready to go?”
“Sure,” I say, confused. “But is everything okay? I saw you talking to Megan and …”
She squares up to me, her chin lifted. “You and Megan just work out together. Right?”
“Twice,” I insist. “Once more and it’s over. Why?”
“You’ve never had a thing for her?”
“Good, God, no.” I laugh, pulling her into my chest. She’s stiff for a moment before giving in and sinking into me. My face buries in her hair and I breathe her in, hoping it calms her as much as it does me to have her so close. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever had a thing for.” I pull away and kiss her forehead. “Ever.”
“Forever ever?”
“Forever ever.” I peer in her eyes. “I don’t want to rush this thing between us, but I want you to know I have no desire, interest, or plans on being with anyone but you. Period.”
“Forever ever?” She grins.
“Forever ever.”
She takes our fingers, lacing them together, and pulls me toward the door.
“Is that going on your tab?” Machlan chuckles as we go by.
“That’s my payment for all those things you could’ve moved by yourself the other day.”
“I thought that was a favor?” He lifts a brow and looks to Kallie and smiles.
Laughing, I pop open the door and watch Kallie walk out. “It was. Thank you.”
He winks.
Eleven
Kallie
“That glow says everything I need to know.” Nora laughs, sitting down across from me at Carlson’s.
“You don’t know anything.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t slept with Cross.”
I grab a menu and hold it vertically between us in hopes of covering my blushed cheeks. It’s not that there’s anything to be embarrassed about, but it seems like it was so expected and I just caved.
How could I not?
I set myself up for this by going home from the golf course with him. It’s absolutely what I wanted. But now the soreness between my legs is faded, a hint of concern is becoming evident.
Nora laughs from the other side. “So I was right. Go on, say it.”
The menu drops to the table. “Of course you’re right, but that squeal”—I point a finger in her direction—“is not necessary.”
“Oh, yes it is! This is almost as good as Justin and Britney getting back together. It’s the natural progression of things, the way they’re supposed to be. How can I not celebrate this?”
“You realize you’re essentially celebrating my orgasms, right?”
“Plural?” She throws her head back. “Of course plural. Fucking asshole.” While I laugh at her reaction, she takes moment to recover. “So, I’m assuming he’s better than before.”