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A text from Mom: Checking in. Still at L&T’s? Any other plans?
It was nearly nine o’clock on a Friday night. Signal Bend’s pickings for a good time were fairly limited, especially for someone like her, without real friends she could hang out with, but generally she tried to find something to do on Friday night.
Her plans this evening had been about Len’s stories. But now she was way off book.
Since her intense talk with Mom shortly after returning from Evanston, things with the parentals were pretty calm. She’d decided to stay in her tiny house; she liked it a lot better now that it was clear the main house was still as much her home as she wanted it to be, and honestly she really did like the privacy and extra space.
The thing that made it good was the balance she’d figured out with Mom and Dad. They still kept tabs like this, doing check-ins, asking about her plans, when they could expect her home, if she’d be there for supper, all that parental stuff, and—she would never admit this aloud, no matter how she was pressed—Gia liked it. Having her parents on her back made her feel like she was home.
She didn’t know how to explain the direction her evening had taken, and she didn’t want to explain what was happening, so she gave her mother the best vague reply she could come up with: Some unexpected developments, but nothing to worry about. I’m good and will probably be home in an hour or two. I’ll text if that changes.
Mom replied at once: Okay. LMK if I need to worry.
Gia chuckled softly. Mom’s worry had a hair trigger; she didn’t need permission to be worried. Also, her worry looked like anger. So that was always fun.
She sent back a thumbs-up and put her phone away. Zaxx was frowning at her, the lines between his eyebrows so tight they were practically serrated. He looked angry—at her.
“If you’ve got a date or something else better to do, you don’t have to stay. I don’t need a babysitter.”
His tone bordered on, if not crossed into, passive-aggressive, but his expression was almost disgust. It seriously sucked to be looked at like that by somebody she apparently was still into. It also sucked to still feel something for an asshole who’d gaslighted her. Despite her commitment not to be a bitch and ride him for what he’d done in May, Gia’s back went up. She couldn’t just let that go.
“I don’t have a date. Not that it’s any of your fucking business. I’m here because Tasha busted her ass to get here for you and your sister, and she didn’t have time to get me back to my car, so I’m trapped until she’s done. I’m not fucking babysitting you, and if you want to be alone, I’ll go find somewhere else to wait.”
His angry scowl collapsed, and he looked away, returning his attention to his barely touched drink. “I’m sorry. I guess that laugh just now cut into me somewhere. You don’t have to go anywhere else. I ... I like you here. I don’t want to be by myself right now.”
For half a breath, under the annoying rush of feeling his last words released in her, Gia was confused. What laugh? Then she recalled her slight chuckle at her mom’s text.
“It was my mom. The text. I laughed a little because she was being her usual self.”
Zaxx nodded. “Okay. Sorry, again.”
“Forgiven.”
She meant to leave it at that one word, he was forgiven for only this understandable misunderstanding and nothing more, but Zaxx didn’t leave it.
“I’m also sorry for ... you know.”
Well, fuck. He was going there now? Here? And what, exactly, was she supposed to know? Was he sorry for ghosting her? Or gaslighting her? Was he sorry for ever even noticing her?
“No,” she rejoined. “I really don’t.”
After a long, deep sigh that seemed to draw air all the way from the deepest reaches of his gut, Zaxx tossed the contents of his glass down his throat and set the empty vessel on the cocktail table before them. He sat back and looked at Gia.
“I’m sorry for bailing on you after that night. I felt shitty about while I was doing it, and I still feel shitty. I should’ve apologized long before now but ... I’m sorry. Truly.”
Gia finished her own tequila and set the glass beside his. Her intent not to drag him into a scene over this had been an honorable one, but it wasn’t her who’d done the dragging, was it? No, Zaxxon himself had dragged them here. So okay, then.
“See, if you truly do feel shitty about something, I would have expected you to feel shitty about fucking gaslighting me.” He frowned again, acting confused now, but Gia pushed on before he could interrupt her. “Doing that tremendously foul bullshit so many guys do, pretending you’re all smitten and serious with a woman just so she’ll bring her guards down and you can get your dick wet. And that wasn’t even the thing that got me bringing you home! That night, I’d’ve fucked you just for fun. I wasn’t thinking about anything more than that. You didn’t need to act like you wanted anything more, and then we would both have had fun and been just fine with never hearing from each other again. But instead, you had to put on a big show about how you wanted more. That was the real shit you pulled. And, to be clear, you are not forgiven. But hey, it doesn’t matter now. I’m fine, you’re fine, and life goes on. Whatever.”
Zaxx stared at her, his blue eyes flashing hurt and surprise.
She stared right back, refusing to be moved by that certainly fake display.
Finally he said, “I wasn’t gaslighting you, Gia. And I’m not fine.”
Something like a record-scratch happened in Gia’s mind. It didn’t derail her hurt and anger, but suddenly she didn’t know where to put those feelings—which made her even angrier.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
