Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Molly
I stare out my bedroom window at the monsoon outside. With an irritated grumble, I turn around and look longingly at the perfect outfit I have laid on my bed. The one that was going to give me the confidence I needed to get through this date. The one that was going to knock Gabe’s damn socks off. The one I now have to rethink entirely because instead of it being a perfect spring night, it’s forty-eight degrees with torrential rain. Not exactly open-toed sandals weather.
“Shit,” I mumble, stalking into my closet and flipping through my dresses. I hate every single one because none of them are the dark pink silk sleeveless slip dress of my dreams that I bought the day I ran into Gabe at the restaurant where asshole Brad decided to do some light assault. The day that started this whole fake engagement nonsense.
“Fuck it,” I say to my empty bedroom. I’m wearing the damn dress. The weather doesn’t control me. I’m more powerful than a little rain.
Stripping off the robe I put on after my shower, I pull the dress on and give it a few tugs so it falls into place. My only concession to the weather is the leather cream-colored knee- high boots I pull on and the rain jacket I yank out of my closet and toss on the bed.
Standing in front of the full-length heavy gold framed mirror leaning up against the wall, I study myself with a critical eye.
Makeup—on point.
Hair—excellent curl definition.
Dress—hot.
Shoes—not ideal, but workable.
Underwear—sexy as fuck, per my strict good underwear only policy. Whether I’m on a date or working out at the gym, one of my most closely held beliefs is that a girl feels her most powerful with good lingerie. Gabe may not be seeing my underwear tonight, but I’ll know it’s there, like a sly little secret meant only for me.
Except sometimes when he looks at me, it makes me feel like I don’t have any secrets from him at all. Like I may as well be naked, stripped right down to my good underwear. I used to like that. It made me feel seen. But a week after Gabe showed up at my office after ten years of silence, I’m not sure I want to feel quite so seen.
Not yet, at least.
In the years since I last saw Gabe, I’ve built a shield around myself when it comes to men. Nothing serious. Nothing personal. Absolutely no attachments. But in just the short time he’s been back in my life, I feel my shield slipping. It seems that since he’s the reason for the shield, he’s also the only one who can smash it to pieces.
But then, Gabe has always had a way of getting under my skin. Whereas younger Gabe was full puppy dog, older Gabe is different. He’s still the nerdy, cheerful ball of fun I remember, but age and grief have changed him. Not enough to harden him, but enough to give him an interesting edge. One that makes him damn near irresistible. Younger Gabe was hot. Older Gabe is melt your underwear off sexy.
And now he’s my fiancé.
Fake fiancé , I correct myself.
Over the last ten years, my brain has conjured thousands of different ways Gabe might end up back in my life, but none of them were this. I’m surprised I’m not more freaked out over it, but then again, I’ve always been a low anxiety, go with the flow kind of girl, so I’m rolling with it.
The shimmer of nerves and anticipation that races through me at the knock on the door can definitely be considered rolling with it. I make the rules.
I grab my jacket and dig my purse out from the piles of clothes that litter my bed, then walk down the stairs. When I open the door, every rational thought falls straight out of my head because holy fucking shit .
It’s Gabe’s eyes I notice first. Bright blue, made practically electric by the blue sweater he wears. The sweater looks like it was custom made for him, and he has the sleeves pushed up, revealing well-defined forearms I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from. Emma swears she was first attracted to Jeremy’s forearms, and in this moment, I understand that sentiment completely. His black pants hug his legs perfectly, and I’m sure if he turned around, his ass would be even more amazing than I remember.
He looks so good. So much like my Gabe that I want to burrow into him. Hold on to him and make him promise never to leave me again.
“Rory,” Gabe breathes.
I drift my gaze up to meet his, and the expression on his face has my breath backing up in my lungs. He looks thunderstruck. His eyes are full of emotion and heat, and he stares at me like if he looks away, I’ll disappear. He doesn’t check me out. Doesn’t sweep his gaze down my body and back up again like most men would. Instead, his eyes stay locked on mine, the two of us in a silent stare off.
A thousand words pass between us, but neither of us speaks them out loud.
I’m glad you’re here.
I’m scared.
I’m happy.
What now?
How did I ever live without you?
Am I still yours?
Are you still mine?
I missed you.
I loved you.
“You are so beautiful, Rory.” Gabe’s voice is a reverent whisper, and he leans forward, setting a hand on my hip and kissing my cheek. The heat of his hand seeps through my dress, and I have the wild thought that if I had him, I would never be cold again. And that is absolutely not a thought that will keep my shield intact. I reach for the irreverent attitude I use as a defense mechanism. I know it won’t last. Not with Gabe. But at least I can buy myself some time while I figure all this out.
I flash him a grin. “You clean up nice. I always did like when you wore blue. Although I have to say, I miss the superhero T-shirts when you dress like an adult.”
He grins right back. “I know you do.”
Without another word, he reaches down and lifts up the bottom of his sweater. I get a quick flash of cut abs before he tugs down the T-shirt he’s wearing under the sweater, showing me the Superman logo on the chest.
I laugh and feel all the tension between us drop away. “I’m more of a Marvel girl myself, but I’ll allow it.”
“When was the last time you watched the movies?” he asks, tugging his sweater back down.
I meet his eyes again. “Ten years ago.”
He swallows hard, pain flashing through his eyes so quickly that if I wasn’t watching closely, I would have missed it.
“Well, I’ll just have to catch you up then. There are shows now too.” His voice is a little ragged, like the idea that I avoided something that belonged so wholly to us after he left me for so many years shreds him. And that shreds me.
“I think I’d like that,” I say, reaching out and touching his hand. He flips his hand around immediately, linking our fingers together, and warmth flows up my arm.
“What else are fake fiancés for?” he asks, recovering some of his usual cheer.
I huff out a laugh. “I knew you had to be good for something.”
“Oh, I’ll be so good at so many things, Rory baby. You aren’t ready for it.” Gabe winks at me. “Ready to go to dinner?”
The wink has heat searing through me, and I’m feeling a little whiplashed from all the emotions of the past ten minutes.
“Sure, take me to dinner.”
With his free hand, he flicks open the biggest umbrella I’ve ever seen and holds it out so we can both get under it. I take a deep breath and step forward so I’m next to him. He drops my hand and wraps an arm around my shoulders, and together, we walk into the pouring rain.
“Mr. Sullivan, we’re so happy to have you and your fiancée dining with us tonight.” Hearing the word fiancée from a stranger shakes me a little. It’s confirmation that we’re really doing this, and it all happened so fast that I still don’t know exactly how I feel about it. But what shakes me even more is the hot flash of jealousy I feel when the hostess gives Gabe a sultry smile, sweeping her gaze down his body and back up.
Mine .
The thought is sudden and startling because Gabe isn’t mine. He hasn’t been mine for a long time. I don’t even know if I ever want him to be mine again. Okay, that’s a lie. I do want him to be mine. I just haven’t decided yet whether that’s the right choice for either of us. Even so, I can’t help but enjoy the fact that Gabe’s only reaction is a polite smile and the tightening of his arm around my waist, where it’s been since he came to open my door and help me out of the car. And where it stays as she leads us to our table right in the center of the fancy restaurant.
I can feel every eye on us as we walk through the room. While I’ve never been one to shy away from attention, this feels voyeuristic. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see someone take a picture, and my skin crawls with discomfort even as I square my shoulders and school my face into a neutral expression.
“I am so sorry, Rory,” Gabe says as soon as we’re seated at a table right in the middle of the restaurant. The table is small enough that if we both leaned in, our foreheads would practically be touching, and our feet keep knocking against each other. Being this close to him has all my senses on alert, and that, combined with all the not so veiled attention we’re getting, has me practically vibrating. I’m going for nonchalant, but I wonder what my face actually looks like because he looks at me with concern. “I didn’t think before I made a reservation. I’m used to getting noticed, but you’re not.”
“It’s fine,” I say, forcing my eyes to stay on Gabe’s while the back of my neck prickles with the feeling of being watched. “It’s good practice, I guess. This is your life, and while we’re faking this, I guess I have to get used to everyone knowing my name.”
I clear my throat and twist my hands together to keep from fidgeting.
“You don’t,” Gabe says softly. “I don’t want you to have to get used to anything that makes you uncomfortable. We didn’t have to come to dinner. I would have been fine sitting on my living room couch. Or yours. Or in the damn car. I would be happy anywhere as long as you’re next to me.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, digesting his words and forcing myself to stay calm, even as my stomach bottoms out and my heart speeds up.
“It’s okay, really. It might just take a minute to get used to famous Gabe, whose face has been on every magazine cover and the front page of every newspaper in the world. When I knew you, you were a Lego-building, robotics-loving, Marvel movie-watching nerd.
Gabe laughs, even as his eyes sober at, I’m sure, the when I knew you part of what I just said. It’s startling that I can still read him so well.
“Well, you’re in luck because I’m still all of those things. I got lucky with the phone thing, but I’m the same person I used to be. And even though it’s been years since I became sort of famous, and I’m kind of used to the attention, it’s still fucking weird.”
“You seem remarkably well-adjusted considering all the attention.”
Gabe shrugs and gives me a sheepish grin. “I have two younger sisters who give me shit all the time. It keeps me honest. And also, I’ve had a lot of therapy. It’s practically a requirement in Northern California, and it helped me learn how to be there for my sisters the way I needed to be. I was so broken after my parents died. I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”
“You don’t, but I want to know.”
It’s completely true, I realize. I want to know everything about that time in his life. What happened after I left, and how he put one foot in front of the other and became this man. One who is so similar to the boy I left, but with so many more layers to him. I’m curious about all the pieces of his life between then and now, even if I’m not quite ready to tell him all of mine.
It’s the right thing to say because his smile is dazzling and has my heart thudding in my chest.
“Then I want to tell you. I want to tell you everything.”
Before he can start to tell me all the things, our waiter appears.
“Mr. Sullivan, Ms. Jenkins, we’re thrilled to have you here tonight.”
My gaze lands on Gabe just as he looks at me and rolls his eyes as if to say ugh, not again . I smile at him, and he grins back at me, his dimple flashing. The secret little exchange has warmth filling my chest, and it goes a long way toward counteracting the weirdness of a stranger knowing my name. It kind of feels like Gabe is my partner-in-crime, just the way he always used to be.
“Our specials tonight are excellent, but before I start, can I just say that I’m a huge fan. I’ve owned all the Redwood phones, and I just can’t even believe I get to meet you.”
You have to be fucking kidding me. I once sat next to George Clooney at a sushi restaurant in downtown L.A. and just gave him a polite nod. Surely this guy can manage to do his job without this cringy display of celebrity hero worship for a guy who invented a telephone.
“Thanks for saying that,” Gabe says. “But you know what? I don’t think we’ll be needing to hear the specials. I’m sorry about this, but my fiancée and I have to go.”
Gabe stands and holds his hand out to me. On the exact same page, I take it and stand too. Gabe digs into his pocket and leaves some bills on the table, then leads me towards the front of the restaurant, calling “Have a good night” over his shoulder. I snicker as we walk, feeling a little like we’re running away from the scene of a crime, and I love it. I’ve always been a chaos demon. I can still feel every eye in the place on us, but this time, I don’t care.
As soon as we push outside under the awning protecting us from the rain that’s still coming down in sheets, we both burst out laughing. We laugh until tears leak out of our eyes, and suddenly, we’re twenty again, and it’s us against the world.
“I am so sorry, Rory,” Gabe wheezes out, his hands on his knees while he tries to stop laughing. “That was awful.”
“Did you see the look in his eye?” I start cackling all over again. “I thought he was about to take his phone out and ask you to sign it.”
“Wouldn’t have been the first time,” Gabe mutters.
“Stop it. That did not happen to you.”
He smirks at me. “At least five times.”
“For the love of god, it’s a phone. What’s the big deal?”
“I have no idea. People are so weird.”
“They are,” I agree. “It’s too bad though, because I’m starving.”
Gabe swings an arm around my shoulder. “I promised to feed you, and I always keep my promises. Do you still like chocolate chip pancakes for dinner?”
I give in to the draw I feel whenever he’s near me and lean into him. “Love them.”
He turns his head and kisses my cheek. “Come on, let’s go get you fed.”