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“That didn’t fix anything,” I muttered as I lightly grazed her cheek with the back of my fingers.
A sad smile emerged on her plump lips. “It fixed a lot. And I never did say, ‘thank you’ for it.” She rose up on her toes and said, “Thank you, Beau, for staying home with me and listening to my pathetic ramblings.”
I leaned down, speaking directly to her lips, “You’re welcome, Geneviève. There was no place I would have rather been.” My lips touched hers in the briefest of kisses. “Now if I could only get some gratitude for buying you a super bra. But, no, all you give me for my altruistic act is grief,” I said on a fake, exaggerated sigh.
“Not even a ‘Thank you, Beauregard, what a thoughtful thing you did for me,’ or ‘My breasts are so happy you were thinking of their safety and well-being.’” I held her closer as she began to laugh.
“See, I was actually starting to like you for a second there. And then you had to say that,” she said, still laughing.
Her body was pressed to mine so deliciously, my cock started to take notice. “You like me just fine. And so will your breasts once they get a hold—or should I say, once they get held by Madame Trinette’s wonderful bra.” Talking and thinking about Gigi’s breasts was not helping my dick situation one bit.
Gigi pushed away and took my hand. “Thank you for thinking of and fixing my dead bra situation. And just for the record, Coffee Crisps and ketchup chips fix almost anything.”
After that, we window shopped and perused some of the stores along that block. Then we walked through a nearby park. At one point, we sat on a bench to enjoy the view.
“The leaves look so pretty at this time of year,” she said, sitting close to me. The touch of her leg against mine soothed yet excited me at the same time. Being around Gigi was getting easier and yet more difficult.
“Thanks for coming with me, G. I should have insisted we go to visit your mom. I feel like a real asshole for insisting you come here instead.” I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight to my side.
“It’s fine.”
“Would you stop saying things are ‘fine’ when they’re not? I was a jerk. All I was thinking about was myself. I didn’t take your feelings into consideration.”
Gigi turned her body slightly. “You were thinking of your mom. There’s nothing wrong with that. She loves you so much, I don’t blame you for not wanting to disappoint her. In fact, even I’m scared of letting her down tomorrow.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Beau, come on. You know,” she said, her eyes looking down at the sidewalk.
I put my finger under her chin, guiding her gaze up to mine. “What are you talking about?”
She let out a deep breath. “You know what I mean. Your family is—well to do. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb at the party tomorrow.” Her eyes held such self-doubt, it made me want to kiss her and make that feeling go away—make her feel something else entirely different.
“You’re going to stick out. But you’ll do it because of your beauty and grace.”
A short, harsh laugh shot out of her mouth. “Ha, not quite. I just hope I don’t embarrass myself. And I’m not sure about my dress,” she said, her voice trailing off like she was thinking deeply about this.
“You could wear a paper bag and still be the prettiest woman in the room, G,” I told her, meaning every word.
“Well, have one handy then in case mine doesn’t pass the mark,” she said, her lips turning up a bit.
“Deal. One lumberjack special coming up,” I teased her, hugging that warm body tight to mine.
After that, we roamed a trail or two—just talking. About nothing. About everything. Being with her was so—normal. Gigi understood the pressures of the game—the sport we both loved. When I complained about something, she got it.
It was such a fucking relief to share shit with her—with someone who really comprehended what was going on in my head.
I’d turned my phone off hours ago. Everyone and their dog wanted to come over and see me. Or they wanted to meet up somewhere.
All I wanted to do was spend time with Gigi.
We got back in the SUV after I’d fed her poutine from a street vendor. I started my phone back up and the expected messages and missed calls popped up on the screen.
“Uh oh, is something wrong?” Gigi asked, hearing and seeing my phone light up like crazy. I shook my head as I scrolled through everything. The only person I responded to was my mom, and that was to tell her I was taking G to one more stop and that we’d be awhile.
“Beau, is everything okay? Do we need to get back?” I found her concern sweet, and a warmth spread through my chest.
“Everything’s fine. Just a bunch of assholes wanting to meet up,” I said, shutting my phone down again before starting up the SUV.
