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She rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about true love. With one guy. I swear to God, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Macie without a huge, goofy, so-in-love-it-hurts-to-look-at-her grin on her face when she talks about Coop. I want to feel like that, want to get married, want to have kids, want to live on the same street as Gus and Alison. That’s the life I’ve always imagined for myself, and I tried to pretend I was well on my way there with Mark. But I was lying to myself and to him. And that wasn’t fair to either of us.”
This town was in her blood. No one in her family had ever moved away from Maris, all of them finding their niche, their spot in this tiny town, settling down into some awesome happily ever afters.
Alison and Gus, like her, had known Maris would always be their hometown, the only place they’d ever want to live and work and raise their kids.
Gia had been wrong to try to pigeon-hole Mark into a place where he simply didn’t fit.
“So you mentioned the sitcom to him?” Xander glanced toward the dance floor, and she was certain he was seeking out Mark.
“Yeah. I asked him if he thought we were settling, and he admitted he thought we were. We talked about it for a long time, and in the end, we agreed it was over. We both knew that if we hung in there, we’d still find ourselves in the same position further down the road and by then, it might be even harder to walk away. Because, what if we got married? It would mean divorce, maybe with kids in the mix. We both knew we couldn’t do that. So, I moved out…and now I’ve set my sights on life’s next adventure.”
Xander studied her face, and Gia was surprised—and touched—by the impressed look she saw there. He lifted his bottle, waiting for her to follow suit. Then he tapped them together. “That was a very brave thing to do, Gia.”
Xander rarely used her real name, the Brat nickname his preferred moniker for her. Hearing it on his lips now…
Well, God…it was hot.
She shoved all her inappropriate thoughts aside, letting his words sink deep. Because, until she heard them, she didn’t realize how much she’d needed to hear them. She liked that he thought her brave, even if she didn’t always feel that way. “I’m not going to lie. There are times when I wonder what the hell I’ve done, and we’ve both experienced a couple backslides since then. Fortunately, we backslide at different times. When I called Mark a few weeks after the split to ask if we’d done the right thing, he reassured me we had. And I had to give him those same reassurances a couple times too—pre-Darlene, of course.”
“Backsliding, huh?”
She lifted one shoulder casually. “Can you blame me? We dated four years, and there have been times when I’m sitting at home alone at night, wondering if being lonely is better than what I left behind.” She held up a hand when she saw he was ready to argue that point. “It is better, and I know that, but… I don’t know, maybe it would have been easier if we’d had some big-ass fight, but we parted on friendly terms. Anyway, the backsliding point is moot. I’m not going to do it again. Because Mark found Darlene. And I found Tinder,” she added grumpily.
Xander frowned when she mentioned Tinder again. “I guess online dating is the best way to go if you’re looking for an adventure,” he muttered, letting her know again of his disregard for the app. “Aren’t most guys on there just hoping for a hookup?”
She wanted to argue that fact, but she couldn’t. “A lot are, yeah. The last two guys I’ve gone out with ghosted me after three dates. Is there some dating handbook for guys out there that says if a girl doesn’t put out by the third date, it’s time to move on?”
Xander’s scowl was dark. “No. And if that’s what these assholes are telling you, they’re pieces of shit.”
“They aren’t saying that,” she replied. “At least not with words. More with silence.”
“Delete your damn profile on there, Brat. I mean it. I want it off your phone now,” he demanded with a force that didn’t match their established relationship.
She couldn’t put them in that dreaded “just friends” column because, in truth, she was more Gus’s friend than Xander’s. When she thought harder about it, she decided she and Xander were sort of stuck in a weird row of their own—one where they were much closer than acquaintances, mingled with smidges of honorary big-brother vibes from him and wide-eyed young-girl crush vibes from her. Basically, they were in no-man’s land, so he definitely didn’t have the right to tell her what to do and expect her to obey.
“And then what? What would you have me do, Xander?” she asked somewhat belligerently.
“What’s wrong with the guys in Maris?” he countered.
She gestured around the room with a grand sweep of her hand. “Show me who in Maris you think I should be dating?”
He accepted her challenge, looking around the room. “Toby Matthews?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh—I went on a date with him three months ago. It was a nightmare.”
Xander clearly thought she was exaggerating. “Toby is a nice guy, full head of hair, plays one hell of a shortstop.”
Gia responded with a half-scoff/half-laugh sound. “Wow. You really set the bar high, don’t you?”
“Fine. Educate me,” Xander challenged. “Why was the date a nightmare?”
“Oh,” she played coy. “Did I forget to mention the date was at his house?”
Xander scowled. “Please don’t tell me you’re the type of woman who expects to be wined and dined in fancy restaurants. I think it’s nice that he wanted to make you a home-cooked meal.”
Gia held her hand up. “You didn’t let me finish. His mother made dinner. Because he still lives with her.”
Xander spoke with less conviction when he said, “Well, that’s not ideal, but still not exactly a nightmare.”
