Page 66 of The First Kind of Love
She’s just a girl. It wasn’t even that big of a fight. You’re overreacting.
She’s not just a girl. She’smygirl. And itwasa big fight in terms of our relationship. I’m not overreacting. God, can’t you shut up for once and stop making me feel worse than I already do? You’re always in my head dictating how to act, what to say.
I’m just trying to help you fit in.
Shiloh says I don’t need to fit in.
Shiloh doesn’t care about you as much as you care about her. Why are you chasing after a girl who always planned on leaving in the first place?
“Do you want to get your fortune read by Gonzo?” Gage follows up, tentatively reaching out for my empty glass so he can confiscate it.
Confusion whittles a trench between my brows. “Who?”
Gage nods to something over my shoulder. “The capuchin monkey. He costs three hundred an hour. He can read your future. Does bachelor parties, birthdays, bar mitzvahs, weddings, even funerals.”
I must be drunker than I thought, because lo and behold, when I turn around in my seat, the rest of the guys are oohing and aahing as a furry little primate dressed in abusiness suit picks at Kit’s palms. Baby Eda is more than ecstatic as she gently pets ourapparentlywell-renowned fortune teller.
“There are monkeys in Cabo?”
“Gonzo does his own thing. When we were walking downtown the other night, he and his manager were giving out free readings on the boardwalk. Hayes pretty much shit his pants—said he’d never seen a monkey in person before. It came out that we were visiting Cabo for Hayes’ wedding, and the manager told us that Gonzo is a hit at bachelor parties, so we said fuck it.”
I snort. “And you expect me to believe that a monkey can read my future?”
Gage cocks his head, actually contemplates the logistics for a second, then shrugs. “He predicted that Casen was going to ‘come to a crossroads very shortly,’ and he did. He had already made his mind up about ordering rocky road for dessert, but then the creamery ended up having triple fudge brownie, and he couldn’t decide.”
“Psh, that’s just a coincidence.”
“Oh, and Gonzodidpredict that Gertrude was going to be murdered in her sleep by one of her coworkers over the last vacation slot, and itactuallyhappened. Just got the call from my meddlesome grandmother.”
First off, I have no idea who Gertrude is. Second off, I’m not sure how he predicted all of that by looking at someone’s palms. He doesn’t even speak human. He’s a monkey! I don’t need a psychic to tell me that my future’s going to consist of sad, lonely nights where I eat my feelings in frozen Salisbury steaks because I drove away the only woman I’ve ever wanted. Though, hearing it come from a monkey may be less…humiliating, somehow?
Before I can argue with Gage over how preposterous that is, the man of the hour careens into our private conversation,reeking of liquor and looking like he just snorted a line of ketamine in the bathroom.
“Guys, Gonzo just predicted that Kit’s going to get a ‘big—yet costly—surprise’ in the next few months,” he relays.
My jaw almost hits the counter. “Another baby?!”
Hayes just laughs hysterically, that one vein in his forehead bulging like crazy. “Who knows!”
Alright, noted: no baby talk. Ever. Unless I want to give Hayes a stroke. Gonzo doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about, okay?
I bet Shiloh would make a good mother. She’s so patient and understanding, and she’ssoattentive. She’d know exactly what to babyproof and which stroller would be the most ideal because she loves to research and learn and…oh, God, I miss her. I’m a mess without her. If I wasn’t working so hard on holding my tears back, I’d probably be a full-blown faucet by now.
Without even meaning to take away from the conversation, I kind of just face-plant into the wood top with a sigh, ignoring the lance of pain that shoots up the bridge of my nose.
“What’s his problem?” Hayes asks from above me.
“Trouble in paradise,” Gage replies matter-of-factly, as if they’re two hardened cops discussing the cause of death over a corpse on a mortuary table.
They’re talking about me like I’m not even here! And a part of me wishes I wasn’t. I wish I was rotting somewhere six feet under so my heart could finally rest. A little melodramatic, but I don’t care.
I’m not expecting a motivational speech—or anything, really—but Hayes yanks me up by the collar of my shirt, gets right up in my face, and scares the living bejesus out of me. I don’t think we’ve ever beenthisclose before.
“Fulton,” he slurs, shaking me slightly, and his grip is surprisingly strong for someone who has a BAC over 0.08. “Idon’t know what happened, but youhaveto go after that girl. Don’t let something stupid drive you guys apart. I almost lost Aeris because of a mistake I made, and if I hadn’t fought for her as hard as I did, I don’t think we’d be getting married tomorrow.”
I remember. Oh, weallremember. Hayes was inconsolable after their breakup. Then he went all out to get her back—thousands of roses all over her front yard, a public apology on live television, even buying her an orchard in South Africa because her favorite fruit is nectarines.
A formidable kind of guilt shipwrecks against the outcrop of my mind. “I miss her so much. Everything was perfect, you know? We spent the night together, and?—”
