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At least, when it comes to Remi—I want to know everything about her.
She takes a deep breath.
“Well, I guess Gideon is the definition of good on paper—handsome, great job, remembers anniversaries, nice to his mom…”
“What does he do for a living?”
“Commercial real estate, and he’s really good at it. But that was part of the problem. I never made half as much money as him, and with everything with Jude—Gideon was always saying I should get a better job. I don’t think he liked that most of the people I work around are men. Or that my go-to uniform is jean shorts.” She gives an unhappy sort of laugh. “He really didn’t like how I dress. And I get it, I look like the youngest drug dealer at the skate park—“
“How you dress is sexy.”
Remi raises an eyebrow.
“It is,” I insist. “The way you dress isyou, andyou’refucking sexy.”
It doesn’t matter that I hated her clothes a week ago.
That’s all the time it took for me to catch enough glimpses of Remi’s strong and capable body, that bronze skin and those tight little tits, her androgyny and femininity a potent combination in the package of her ragged, boyish clothes.
Gideon has terrible taste.
I bet the girls he cheated with are bland as Wonder Bread.
Remi is blushing like a sunset, which makes her look the prettiest I’ve seen.
After a moment, in a guilty little voice, she admits, “I asked Emma about Lila. She showed me a picture.”
My heart goes cold, and I have to resist the urge to pull back my arm.
Even hearing her name is enough to make me spiral.
“I’m sorry…” Remi murmurs, watching my face.
I force myself to speak. “What did Emma say?”
“Not much.” Now Remi can’t meet my eyes. “She showed me the picture of when Lila was Pumpkin Princess. She was so incredibly beautiful…”
I hear the wistful regret in her voice, and I see that look of helpless sorrow, the look of any girl who ever had to stand next to Lila.
“Can’t accuse you of having a type,” Remi says, her head hanging down.
“You’re not like…Lila.” I make myself say her name out loud. “But that’s a good thing.”
There was only one Lila.
And there’s only one Remi. That’s what’s beautiful and tragic about human beings—for better or for worse, not a single one can be replaced.
“And it’s nothing to do with looks,” I add. “Didn’t I just tell you how sexy you are? Can’t you feel it every time we kiss?”
I kiss her now, deep and warm. I let her feel my attraction to her in the way I pull her against my body, in the way I breathe her breath and taste her mouth.
When I let go, Remi’s eyes slowly open.
“Wow…” she breathes, and her smile flickers back. “I must be sexy because that was the hottest fucking kiss.”
I laugh. “I told you.”
We’ve reached the hardware store.
