Page 113 of Can't Always Get What You Want

“You better,” Gio says, softening. “You can spend the night and I’ll make pancakes.”

“You say that like I won’t show up for sweet baby kisses.”

I don’t deserve the softness in his voice or the way Austin is giving me a free pass when she’s the one with a baby hanging off her shirt. I don’t deserve pancakes and cookies and sweet baby kisses!

“You don’t have to tell me everything that goes on in your life—I respect your boundaries,” Gio says quietly. “Just don’t disappear on me, ‘kay?”

God, I seriously am a garbage human.

“I won’t,” I manage even though I’ve broken like, ten of the rules we set for ourselves and crossed several of his boundaries while asking him to respect mine.

Guh!

Austin takes the baby’s hand and waves it toward me gently. “Say bye-bye Auntie Nova.”

I swear, my bottom lip quivers. “Bye-bye sweet little Vivi. Auntie loves you.”

The baby gurgles unintelligibly while gnawing on herfingers, completely unaware she’s just cracked my entire chest open with her toothless smile and chubby little wave.

Austin smiles gently. “We’ll call you later.”

Gio just gives me a long look—the kind of look that says he’s done pushing but he’s still there.Always.

“I mean it,” he says. “Don’t disappear.”

And then the screen goes black.

I stare at the reflection of myself for a long time in the glossy black rectangle of my phone.

But here’s the worst part: if I could rewind time and do this all again? I would.

I’d still climb into Luca’s big bed. Sink into his tub.

Still meet him at the grocery store. Make dinner with him.

Hide him at the end of the hallway in my bedroom.

And that’s the part that wrecks me most: I don’t regret it.

Not even a little.

24

luca

I’m supposed to be thinking about my stride. About my stick angle. About defensive coverage and closing gaps and staying light on my skates.

But instead, I’m thinking about Nova.

Duh—what else is new?

Ha.

Coach is barking drills, and I hear him—kind of—but it’s like his voice is underwater, distant and distorted. Like it’s competing with the replay in my head of her bare shoulders under the bathroom light and the sound she made when I kissed the inside of her knee.

I swear I’ve hit the boards three times today because I was zoned out.

“Babineaux!” Coach shouts, jolting me. “Wake up!”

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