Page 18 of Forever & Always You

I don’t know if it’s the concussion or the way Austin stroked my cheek, but my head is a mess of jumbled thoughts and I have a severe lack of concentration. I can’t think straight. Every time Austin opens his mouth, he needs to repeat himself because I’m zoned out and staring off into the distance.

We said goodbye to all of the dogs at the shelter, which made me emotional because I’ll probably never see any of them again, and on our way back to Austin’s house, we stopped by the mall to pick out some clothes to tide me over for a few days.

Nothing expensive, just some basics. When I started browsing for underwear, Austin decided that was the right moment for him to duck off to the running store, giving me some privacy.

And then he found me again at the checkout and swiped his credit card before I could put up a fight. When I promised to pay him back, he laughed. Laughed.

But I’m not a charity case. I can stand on my own two feet, even if they may be a little wobbly at times, so the second I find a new job and start bringing in some cash again, I’ll pay him back the hundred odd dollars I now owe him.

We were best friends when he had nothing, and I don’t want him thinking I’ve come crawling back into his life now that he’s loaded.

I didn’t even know he was rich when I decided to find him.

Back at the house, he needed a few hours to himself to work, so he disappeared into his home office while I tried my best to relax in the huge living room.

Part of me wanted to steal this chance to sneak around and explore, to find out more about the Austin he is now, but prying doesn’t align with my new goals of being a better, more respectful person.

So I stayed put in the living room, flicking through streaming services on the monstrous TV screen and looking up Lily’s profile on the Saving Paws Animal Rescue’s website.

No wonder she hasn’t been adopted—her photos are terrible.

I also texted my mother, something I rarely, if ever, do. I told her I made it back to Durham safe and sound, because what else can I do but lie? If she knew I was shacking up with Austin Pierce for the weekend, that would send her fully over the edge and into a nervous breakdown.

I’m deep into my second movie, fighting off the nap my body craves after an afternoon of being far too comfortable in the corner of this couch, when Austin emerges from his office. I’m so tired, I don’t even sit up. I peek over the edge of the blanket I’m cocooned under and smile.

“You’re finished?”

“For today,” Austin says, collapsing onto the other end of the couch by my feet. He glances at that expensive watch on his wrist. “I’m sorry that took so long.”

“Hey, you’re doing me a favor letting me stay here. Don’t worry about keeping me company,” I reassure him. Whatever Austin’s plans are this weekend, I’ll fit myself around them and keep out of his way if required. I don’t want him to regret his extremely generous offer of hospitality.

My body stiffens when Austin rests his hand on my leg over the blanket. He doesn’t seem to notice, because he nods curiously at the TV. “What are you watching?”

“Um,” I say, brain scrambling as I reel in my focus. “I’ve been working my way through all of the Marvel movies recently. This is Captain Marvel. ”

Austin gives me a pensive sidelong look.

“What?”

“I never thought I’d ever see Gabrielle McKinley again,” he says, “let alone see her wrapped up in my blanket watching Marvel movies on my couch. My brain’s bugging out here.”

I pointedly pull the blanket tighter around me. “Your AC is too high. I’m freezing.”

“Hypothermia wasn’t exactly the method of death I had in mind for you, but it’ll do,” he quips, then grins as he moves from the couch to the AC dials on the wall. He turns the temperature up a few notches. “Better?”

“Thanks.”

He rejoins me on the couch, but this time his hand doesn’t accidentally find its way to my leg, and I feel a little zap of disappointment. “Do you mind if I watch this with you? And then I was thinking maybe we could get takeout for dinner, because I don’t cook much.”

I scoff and say, “You’re such a bachelor.”

“Oh, please. Like you’re any better.”

I roll my eyes, because he’s right — I’m not much of a cook, either. I live on microwave meals and fast food, because buying groceries for one ends in so much waste. But mostly I’m just lazy. Mom never cooked, so she had nothing to teach me, and now I’m a lost cause. “Takeout is fine. You pick.”

“Chinese?”

“Only if there’s egg rolls.”

“There will be egg rolls.”

“Then Chinese it is.”

“Perfect.”

We watch the rest of Captain Marvel together, but I fall back into my earlier pattern of being so entirely distracted by Austin’s existence that I’m barely functioning.

He doesn’t so much as brush up against me for the remainder of the movie and that has me questioning my sanity.

Maybe my ego is just too big. Why the hell would Austin ever like me?

We really were just friends as kids, and if he didn’t like me more than that back then, then there’s no way he could ever like me now after everything I put him through.

My head spins, because I don’t even know why I want him to like me, or why my stomach churns with dissatisfaction at the thought of being only friends when I should be grateful to achieve even that.

I want him to be my friend again, of course I do.

But maybe I also want to explore if there could ever be something more.

And that’s a real headfuck, because suddenly I see a lot more in Austin than I ever did when I was younger. A different perspective, a new appreciation, a long overdue acknowledgement.

Touch my leg again, goddamn it.

But he never does.

When the movie ends, we immediately call in our order for delivery after fighting over which dishes are best, and ultimately end up ordering a little of everything.

Egg rolls, roast duck, kung pao chicken, wonton soup, honey walnut shrimp, fried rice .

.?. When the mountain of food arrives and we set it down on the kitchen island, we look at one another over the top of the pile and burst into laughter.

“We definitely overshot this,” Austin says, scratching his head. “We’ll be eating leftovers for breakfast, lunch and dinner tomorrow. Maybe even Monday, too. How the hell have we ended up with four portions of rice?”

“Don’t look at me,” I say, shrugging as I continue pulling containers out of the bags. “You’re the one who placed the order. But fear not—I have a good appetite. Just you wait and see how much of this I can demolish.”

Austin seems thoroughly amused. “Oh, I’d love to see you try.”

“A plate would be a good place to start.”

“I didn’t think you’d be that civilized.”

I snap my fingers at him and point to the cabinets behind him, but I clearly have no clue where the plates even are, because he crosses the kitchen in the opposite direction to go retrieve some.

He brings over some silverware, too, and we throw a mixture of everything onto our plates and sit down at the table.

Half an egg roll in my mouth, I ask, “What do you usually do on the weekend? Other than lock yourself in your office and drop off kibble to the dog shelter.”

Austin watches me across the table, pretentiously moving food around his plate with a pair of freaking chopsticks. “Beers with a couple of buddies sometimes. I’m running the Chicago marathon in October, so Sunday mornings I run. I’m trying to get into golf, too.”

“Golf?”

He cocks his head in response to my critical tone. “What’s wrong with golf?”

“You’re twenty-four,” I remind him. “You never hit the clubs? How about dating?”

“Gabby,” Austin says, laughing out loud. He pushes his plate forward and crosses his arms on the table, fixing me with a challenging look. “Enough of the questions. What do you do on weekends?”

I intentionally smolder my eyes at him before replying, “Watch Marvel movies.”

God, all we do is laugh. It’s so easy to see why we were friends.

“You never hit the clubs? How about dating?” Austin asks, repeating my questions with a teasing smirk.

“Sometimes, but the clubs are full of Duke students who are way too young for me,” I say, heaving a nonchalant sigh, “and all of the suitable Duke alumni I’d actually be interested in have already left town, so I’m left with college freshmen trying to grow facial hair or middle-aged Durham locals.

It’s slim pickings up there. Oh, you wanna hear my latest dating nightmare?

It involves a man with a blatant foot fetish.

” I toss the remainder of my egg roll in my mouth and pause mid-bite when Austin’s smile falters. “What?”

“I’ve realized I’d rather not hear about your dating life.”

“But we’re trying to be friends again,” I say, pouting. “Friends talk about these things.”

Austin pulls his plate back and pokes casually at some duck, briefly glancing up at me. “So you’ll be perfectly happy to hear me talk about the couple of times I spent the night with Sasha? That wouldn’t bother you?”

It takes everything in me to maintain my easy expression, to not even so much as blink in surprise as my stomach plummets. Not only does Sasha get Austin’s forgiveness so easily, she also gets him in bed. And that makes me irrationally envious.

“Nope. Doesn’t bother me.” The words taste metallic on my tongue.

“You’re a terrible liar, Gabby.”

Quite frankly, keeping my features this aligned hurts, so I immediately give up my carefree act and hunch forward, elbows on the table. “You’re right. Let’s not talk about our dating lives.”

“See, it’s too weird.”

“Yeah. Too weird,” I agree. But it’s not weird at all. It’s raging fucking jealousy, and it’s making me feel sick. I frown at the dent I’ve barely made in my plate of food, because at this point I’ve lost my appetite.