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"I hate you," he muttered and pushed off the bar, sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Sighing, he gestured for her to lead the way.
"Really?" she squeaked.
"Hmm, only because it's important enough for you to ramble like an idiot."
Grinning, Giselle grabbed his arm and led him to the girl in red. She hissed when he stumbled a little, earning a what-have-I-done look from him. When they sat down with Abigail, he suppressed most traces of intoxication surprisingly well.
He asked for her number, his charms turned on, and all his claims of sucking at relationships went down the drain. At one point, Giselle noticed Abigail blushing as Chris kissed her on the hand, being the gentleman he was, before they headed out of the club. The new couple had agreed to meet on the coming Sunday over lunch, and she considered that success.
I can go to Petrichor tomorrow,she thought after pushing him into the passenger's seat of his car, much to his dismay, and getting in the driver's seat herself,and Chris might just warm up a fraction more to the idea of Xavier.
Chapter 2
Chris ignored the faint ringing of his phone that he'd left to charge in his room.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he did pushups the next morning, right hand placed firmly on the tiled floor, the other behind his back. It had stopped being effortless after the fifth rep, but he had to shake off the hangover, and nothing worked better for him than a strenuous workout session.
Alcohol, Chris learned the hard way, wasn't for him. The first time he'd tried it was before the legal age of twenty-five while he was still in college. His system had rejected the liquid, and he'd thrown up endlessly the next day. Considering himself lucky to be alive, he'd sworn off every toxic beverage after that day.
But last night was an exception. Last night was the snapping of his final thread of patience. He was a simple man who didn't like to complicate things. So, when Giselle's devil of a mind was set yet again upon making his life miserable, he'd made a simple plan—reject every girl she chose for him. He'd long stopped hoping for her to return his love, but dating someone else only added to his misery, not to mention how unfair it was to the other person, so he liked to steer clear of that.
He didn't know how or when he'd given up on Giselle. Maybe it was because she was the most oblivious person on Earth, and all his advances and hints were useless in front of her. Or because he was too afraid to mess up the friendship they'd built over the years. Whatever it was, the idea of having her in his life as a friend sounded better than losing her in hopes to be more than what they were.
Chris switched his hand from right to left. His arm wobbled a little at the first few attempts, but he pushed himself.
The main reason, he continued his terrain of thoughts, was maybe because he wasn't good enough for her to think about him as more than a friend. She'd never given him any indication that his advances were well-received, although he did feel it in her body language every once in a while that maybe there was love buried deep within. But maybe it was just wishful thinking. Whether she returned the love or not didn't matter because she chose to remain clueless about whatever Chris had in her heart for her, and he could take a hint. So, he remained friend-zoned, waiting for the day she'd finally see that maybe Chris wasn't all that bad.
Grunting at the effort it took to exercise that morning and with the company of his usual musings, he moved up and down in his spare room of the house that he'd turned into a gym. His parents had left him all of their earthly possessions, him being the only child, though he wished he'd gotten no inheritance if it meant them being alive.
He sighed. Nothing became of these thoughts except an addition to his spoiled mood.
The door opened and he braced for the impact. Giselle didn't launch herself at him, however, to knock him off balance the way she normally did whenever she found him doing push-ups.
"What are you doing, Shrek?" she asked instead.
His breath came short as he said, "Gravity stopped working, so I'm trying to stick myself to the ground."
He could feel her narrowing her eyes. "Very funny."
Chris smiled. He knew she'd say that.
She asked, "Why didn't you pick up my call? You were too busy enjoying your Taylor Swift ringtone, weren't you?"
He rolled his eyes, placing both his hands on the floor and continuing his workout. "I'll change it."
"No," she whined. "I love calling you when you're with me just so I can listen to You Belong With Me." She ended her sentence by singing it.
"Is that why you set that abomination with your contact number?"
"Yup. You're not allowed to change it."
"And how long is this obsession gonna last?"
"Forever! Because she's the best, unlike Lewis Capaldi you love so much. I wish she would come here, though. I don't wanna fly to the US for her concert."
There was something satisfying in teasing her, so he said, "Keep dreaming, Pigtails."
She huffed. "Don't call me that!"
