Page 79 of Hypothetical Heart
“It’s not your fault, just a bodily reaction.”
As soon as I say it, her face falls and I realize my mistake.
“That’s not what I meant!” I do my best to reassure her, but I know her brain is already moving a million miles a minute.
“I think you meant what you said.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Well, I really didn’t want to sit here in a car with all our friends and tell you you’re the only girl who gets my dick rock hard in seconds, but I guess you’ve forced my hand.”
She nearly chokes on her own spit, coughing quickly, but her shock is immediately replaced with a cocky grin, something a bit abnormal for her. “I’m also the one forcing your dick to be stabbing me in the back, apparently.”
This type of confidence isn’t something I see much of, especially when it comes to intimate topics like this, but I can’t say I mind it. “I think we already confirmed that, didn’t we, sweetheart?”
Her hand covers my mouth to keep me from saying anything more that could turn her cheeks the same pretty shade of rose they are now, which reminds me that our friends are still in the car. All but Genevieve, who has her eyes on the road are looking toward Winnie and me.
“What?” I ask, smirking.
They don’t have to say anything because I’m well aware that while they may not have heard our conversation, they know exactly “what”.
24
Hours after we walked across the stage at graduation, Genevieve, Eloise, and I are still sitting in the living room of the Callaghan house.
Jameson and Genevieve were able to give their valedictorian speech, where Jameson bowed out of the position in order to give Genevieve the spotlight. I’ve always had a good feeling Jameson loved my best friend, but I am sure now that he is going to love her until the end of time. There are only a few people selfless enough to step down from valedictorian so their girlfriend will get the recognition they deserve, and Jameson is one of them.
The boys were also here earlier, but they just left. We made them go to the store and get stuff to make s’mores outside on the fire, and by the time they made it out of the driveway, Genevieve and Eloise had already started begging me for details.
“You can’t say nothing is going on between the two of you,” Eloise says, placing her chin on her hands with her elbows propped on her knees, giving me her full attention.
I shrug. “I don’t know how to read him.”
“Impossible,” Genevieve scoffs. “You know you can read him because I can read him like a book.”
“He’s in love with you,” Eloise says plainly.
I don’t deny the fact because I have no idea if it’s true or not, despite how much I want it to be.
“Can I ask you something?” I direct the questions toward Genevieve.
She nods. “Of course.”
“How did you know Jameson was the one?”
It’s a difficult question—one that a lot of people don’t know how to answer—because everyone’s gut answer is to say,you just know.That’s not good enough for me, and if anyone could find a more satisfying answer, it’s Genevieve.
“Honestly, this might sound creepy, but I’m just going to tell you…” She pauses, collecting her thoughts like she often does. “I always kind of ignored it, but I realized how my dad not being around really affected me. And when I knew I was falling for Jameson, the first thing I imagined was what kind of dad he would be to our kids because some men—like my dad—make great boyfriends and husbands but not as great of fathers, and the man my husband is to our kids has become increasingly important to me.”
It’s never been a surprise to anyone—other than the people who think she’s cold and unfeeling—that Genevieve wants kids. Her entire life, she’s been a nurturer, always being the first person to help, wanting to give advice and be there for the people she loves most. It makes sense she would be able to give what her mom couldn’t give to her, to her own kids. It makes sense she would be drawn to someone who gives her everything no man in her life ever has.
“How’d you know Jameson would be a good dad?” I ask.
Eloise laughs. “Have you met him?”
Eloise’s confirmation of Jameson’s ability only makes Genevieve smile. “I imagined him doing all the things my dad never did,” she says. “After Jameson took care of me when I fell in the stairwell of the ski trip, I knew that’s just who he is. I could vividly picture him taking care of our kids or checking under our daughter’s bed for monsters, dressing up in tutus with them, and letting them put makeup on him. I know he’d treat our kids the same way he treats me, with the utmost respect. That’s how I knew.”
Tears threaten to brim my eyes, thinking about Logan in that light.
“Can I give you my very best advice when it comes to you and Logan?” Genevieve asks, reaching from her chair to place a hand on my knee. The sincerity in her eyes alone makes me know she’s taking this as seriously as I need her to.
