Chapter 31
The wall was cold against my back, but everything else was fire.
His hands—those big, strong hands that I had tattooed with a smiley face—were gripping my waist. His thumbs pressed into my sides, sending little electric sparks shooting straight to my toes.
"Gabriel," I whispered, breathless.
He didn't speak. He just leaned down. His eyes were dark, like obsidian pools of infinite want. He tilted his head.
And then... his lips crashed onto mine.
WAAAAHHH!
It wasn't a gentle peck! It wasn't a "Good morning, wife" kiss! It was a "You are mine and I am going to devour you" kiss!
His lips were soft but firm, moving against mine with a rhythm that made my knees turn into strawberry jelly. I kissed him back vigorously! I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his dark, silky hair. I pulled him closer! Closer! I wanted to merge with him like a binary code!
Smooch. Smooch. Gasp.
It was heavenly! It was magical! It was—
RIIIIIIIIING!
The sound pierced through the air like a siren.
RIIIIIIIIING!
Gabriel froze. I froze.
Then... POOF!
The wall disappeared. The strong arms disappeared. The hot lips disappeared.
My eyes snapped open.
I wasn't pinned against a wall. I was tangled in my Hello Kitty duvet.
I sat up, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Thump-thump-thump-thump!
I looked to my right.
Empty.
The space beside me was cold. The sheets were smooth.
It was... a dream?
"NOOOOO!" I wailed, flopping back onto the pillow. "It was just a dream?! But it felt so real! I could taste the coffee on his tongue! I could feel his abs through his shirt!"
I covered my face with my hands. My cheeks were burning hot. Like, frying-an-egg hot.
It had been three days since the storm. Three days since we stayed at the Yellow House. Three days since I ruined his chest with my terrible artwork (which he claims he loves, mwehehehe).
We were back at the Muratori Mansion now. The giant, echoey fortress in the middle of nowhere.
I sat up again and looked at the floor-to-ceiling window. The sun was shining brightly, mocking my internal turmoil.
I touched my lips. They tingled. Huhu. They actually tingled!
"Oh my gosh," I whispered to the empty room. "I am a sinner! A sinful, lustful woman!"
I scrambled out of bed and dropped to my knees on the pink rug. I clasped my hands together tight.
"Lord! Please forgive me!" I squeezed my eyes shut.
"I dreamt of... intercourse!
Well, pre-intercourse! With my husband! I know we are married, but we haven't done the deed yet, so dreaming about it feels scandalous!
Like reading the last page of the book before finishing chapter one!
Please cleanse my mind! Replace the hot kissing thoughts with.
.. with rainbows! And puppies! And algorithms! "
I stayed there for a minute, breathing hard, trying to push the image of Gabriel's intense eyes out of my brain.
But it was stuck there! Like gum on a shoe!
Huhu.
I stood up, shaking my head. "Okay, Aleesha. Be cool. Be normal. You are a 4.0 GPA student. You are logical. You do not melt over dreams."
I grabbed my towel and ran to the bathroom. I showered in record time (mostly cold water to cool down the sin), brushed my teeth aggressively, and changed into my university uniform.
I grabbed my bag (adorned with twenty-three keychains) and marched out of the room.
The hallway looked different now. Mwehehehe.
Thanks to my "Operation: Pink Palace," the grand, gloomy hallway now had touches of life!
I had placed pink runners over the dark wood floors.
There were vases of fresh pink peonies on the antique tables.
I even hung a small, tasteful (okay, maybe not tasteful) painting of a cat wearing a crown near the stairs.
It looked much less like a vampire's lair and more like a home!
I descended the grand staircase, sliding my hand down the railing.
"Food. I need food. Food will distract me from the lips."
I turned the corner and ran towards the huge dining area.
"Good morning, breakfa—"
I stopped. Skidded to a halt. My socks slid on the marble floor. Screech.
There he was.
Gabriel.
He was sitting at the head of the long table, bathed in morning light. He was wearing a dark gray suit today, his tie perfectly knotted. He was holding a cup of coffee to his lips, reading something on his tablet.
My heart did a somersault.
He looked exactly like he did in the dream. The sharp jaw. The dark hair. The broad shoulders.
FLASHBACK: His lips crushing mine against the wall.
WAAAAHHH!
My face exploded with heat. I felt like I was glowing red like a stoplight.
Gabriel lowered his cup. He looked up. His obsidian eyes locked onto mine.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Morning," he said. His voice was deep, raspy, and sent a shiver straight down my spine.
I couldn't speak! I couldn't look at him! If I look at him, he will know! He will see the dream in my eyes! He will know I mentally ravaged him!
I looked down at the floor. I looked at the table legs. I looked at a speck of dust.
"M-m-morning," I squeaked, my voice cracking.
I didn't walk towards him. I ran to the other side of the table, as far away from him as possible.
I saw my place setting. He had already made my milk! A glass of warm milk and a plate of toast with strawberry jam.
He is so thoughtful! Huhu! Which makes him even hotter!
Gabriel cleared his throat.
"Aleesha," he said.
I froze. "Y-yes?"
"Are you... functional?"
"YES!" I shouted. "Super functional! Operating at 100% efficiency! No system errors here!"
I grabbed the glass of milk.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
I drank the whole thing in one go. It was warm. It burned my throat a little. But I needed to leave!
I slammed the glass down. Clink.
"Okaybyegottagotoschoolloveyoubye!" I blurted out all in one breath.
I spun on my heel and sprinted out of the dining room.
"Aleesha—" Gabriel started.
I didn't listen! I ran!
I ran through the foyer, past the pink rug, past the giant Monsteras. I needed fresh air! I needed to not be in the same room as the man who was starring in my R-rated mental movies!
I reached the massive dark oak double doors. I reached for the handle.
Slam.
A hand—a large, tanned hand with a fancy watch—pressed flat against the door, holding it shut.
I gasped.
I looked up.
Gabriel was leaning against the door. He was standing right there. How did he move so fast?! Did he teleport? Is he a ninja?!
His arms were crossed over his chest (the chest with my signature on it!). He tilted his head to the side, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"What is going on?" he asked calmly.
I gulped. I stared at his tie knot.
"N-nothing!" I lied. "Nothing is going on! Just... life! The cycle of education!"
"You are vibrating," he noted. "And your face is the color of your jam."
Huhu. He noticed! Of course he noticed! He notices everything!
"I... I..." I stammered. "I'm just... late! Yes! Late! Super late! Professor McGonagall—I mean, Professor Miller—will be mad! He hates tardiness! He will give me a detention! Or worse, a B-minus!"
Gabriel stared at me. He looked at his watch.
"It is 7:30 AM," he said. "Your class starts at 9:00 AM. It is a twenty-minute drive."
Busted.
"Traffic!" I squeaked. "Unpredictable! Accidents! Cows on the road!"
Gabriel's lips twitched. I swear I saw a tiny smirk.
He stared at me for another agonizing second. His gaze felt heavy, like a physical touch. I held my breath, terrified he was going to ask, "Did you dream about kissing me, Aleesha?"
But he didn't.
He pushed off the door.
"Get in the car," he said.
He opened the grand door for me, holding it wide.
"I will drive you," he stated.
"But—Sean can—"
"Get. In."
"Yes, Sir!" I saluted and scurried past him.
★
The car ride was torture.
Gabriel drove with one hand on the steering wheel, looking effortlessly cool. I sat in the passenger seat, clutching my bag, staring out the window and trying to think about un-sexy things.
Potatoes. Dirt. Taxes. The Pythagorean theorem.
When we pulled up to the university gate, I practically leaped out of the car before it fully stopped.
"ThanksHubbyBye!" I yelled.
I ran towards the building without looking back. If I looked back, I might run back and kiss him for real, and that would be a public display of affection and probably a safety hazard!
I burst into the lecture hall.
"Safe!" I panted.
I scanned the room. It was mostly empty because, well, I was an hour early. Huhu.
I sat in the front row, right in the center. I pulled out my laptop, my pink notebook, my glitter pens, and my textbook.
Eventually, the room filled up. Stephie slid into the seat beside me.
"Hey, girl," she whispered, unwrapping a gum. "You look... wired. Did you drink espresso?"
"No," I whispered back. "I drank guilt."
"Ooh, sounds tasty," she laughed. "Did you buy another bean bag?"
"No... never mind."
The professor walked in. He started talking about "Database Management Systems and SQL Injection."
Boring.
Usually, I love learning! But today, my brain was mush.
Professor: "Who can tell me the primary key constraint?"
My Brain: Gabriel's lips.
Professor: "What is a foreign key?"
My Brain: Gabriel's abs.
Professor: "Normalization?"
My Brain: Gabriel's tattoo.
WAAAAHHH! Focus, Aleesha! Focus!
I slapped my cheeks lightly. Smack. Smack.
"Miss Garcia?" the professor asked, looking at me. "Do you have an answer, or are you fighting invisible mosquitoes?"
I straightened up. "Uh! Yes! Primary Key!"
I took a deep breath.
"A primary key is a unique identifier for a record in a table! It cannot be Null and it must be unique! Like... like a husband! You can only have one, and he has to be specific!"
The class giggled. Stephie snorted.
The professor blinked. "Uh. Yes. Technically correct. Interesting analogy."
I sank down in my seat. Huhu. Why did I say husband?!
I participated for the rest of the class, answering questions about data integrity and schema design, just to prove I wasn't totally love-struck. I need that 4.0 GPA! Being a billionaire's wife is cool, but being a Smart Wife is cooler!
★
After class, my brain felt like fried tofu.
"I need sugar," I declared to Stephie.
"I have a meeting with my thesis group," Stephie said, checking her phone. "Can you survive alone?"
"Yes! I am an independent woman!" I flexed my non-existent bicep.
"Okay, see ya!"
Stephie ran off, and I walked to the little cafe just minutes away from the campus. It was called "The Daily Grind" (punny!).
I walked in. It smelled like roasted beans and cinnamon.
I went to the counter.
"One large Strawberry Frappe, please! With extra whip! And... oh! A blueberry muffin!"
I paid with the black card Gabriel gave me. The barista looked at the card, then at my knee-high socks, then back at the card. He looked suspicious, but he swiped it.
I grabbed my drink and my muffin and looked for a seat. The cafe was crowded.
There was one small table near the window. I snagged it.
I sat down, taking a giant sip of my pink drink. Slurp.
Brain freeze! Ouch! But worth it.
I pulled out my phone to check my messages. No text from Gabriel. Huhu. He's probably busy shipping boxes.
"Is this seat taken?"
A voice interrupted my moping.
I looked up.
Standing there, holding a tray with an iced coffee and a sandwich, was Eli.
The Citrus Boy!
He was wearing a casual hoodie and jeans. He had that messy-cute hair and those kind eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He looked... normal. Safe. Like a warm blanket on a cold day.
"Eli!" I beamed. "Hi! No, sit! Sit!"
I moved my bag off the other chair.
He sat down opposite me. "Thanks, Isha. Crowded today, huh?"
"I know! Everyone needs caffeine to survive the midterm season!" I said, taking a bite of my muffin.
"How are you?" he asked. "Recovered from the storm?"
"Yes! We survived!" I chirped. "The roof leaked, but we fixed it! Well, Gabby fixed it. I just provided moral support and screaming."
Eli laughed. It was a nice sound. Easy.
"Gabby," he repeated. "Your husband, right? The... Logistician?"
"Yup!" I nodded. "He is very busy. Very serious. He wears suits even on Sundays."
"Sounds... intense," Eli said, taking a sip of his coffee. He looked at me over the rim of his cup. "He treats you okay?"
"Oh, yes!" I said earnestly. "He feeds me! He buys me pink things! He lets me tattoo him—wait, pretend I didn't say that."
Eli chuckled. "Tattoo him? You?"
"It's a long story involving a blackout and impulsiveness," I giggled.
We chatted for a while. It was so easy to talk to Eli. He liked the same video games as me. He knew about coding (he's a data developer!). He didn't make me feel nervous or shy.
He shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.
Since the table was small—like, those tiny round cafe tables—our legs were pretty close.
As he shifted, his knee bumped against mine.
Then, his thigh settled against my thigh.
Just a brush. A warm, firm pressure of denim against my bare knee (because of the socks).
I froze mid-sip.
I looked down.
His leg was touching mine.
I looked up at Eli. He was smiling, talking about a Python script he wrote. He didn't move his leg.
Blink. Blink.
It felt... weird.
Not bad. Just... noticeable.
When Gabriel touches me, it feels like lightning. It feels heavy and intense and makes my stomach swoop.
When Eli touched me, it felt... friendly? But also a little bit intimate?
I should move my leg. I'm a married woman! Married women don't play footsie with Citrus Boys!
But... he probably didn't mean it. It's a small table! If I move, it might be awkward. He might think I'm assuming things!
So I stayed still.
"So," Eli said, leaning forward a little, his eyes looking deeply into mine. "I was thinking. There's this new arcade opening downtown next week. Retro games. Pac-Man. Street Fighter."
"Ooh!" I gasped. "I love Pac-Man!"
"Maybe..." He paused. "Maybe we could go? Check it out? As friends, of course."
His thigh pressed a little firmer against mine.
"Friends who like games," he added softly.
I looked at his kind face. Then I thought about Gabriel, sitting alone in his big mansion, drinking black coffee.
"I..." I hesitated.
Go to an arcade? With Eli?
It sounded fun! Gabriel hates arcades. He says they are "sensory overload" and "germ factories."
"Maybe!" I said, smiling brightly. "I'll have to check my schedule! You know, married lady duties! Decorating! Napping!"
Eli smiled back, but his eyes lingered on my face a little too long.
"Let me know, Isha," he said. "I think you'd have fun. You deserve some fun."
My thigh tingled where his leg was touching mine.
I do deserve fun, I thought.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice that sounded suspiciously like Gabriel whispered: Inefficient.
I took another sip of my frappe.
Having friends is complicated!