Chapter 8
ELIJAH
“Alex? Would you mind taking over at the stove? I have to finish getting dressed before Gabriel and his boyfriend arrive.”
I push the sliced plantains off to the side and wipe my hands on my track pants. The rice is just about done, so I lower the heat too.
“On it.”
Alex breezes into the kitchen, tucking his shirt neatly into a pair of dark, slim-fit jeans.
As usual, he looks effortlessly stunning; the pale-green fabric of his top sharpens the gold in his hazel eyes, making them pop.
I love that shirt—the V-neck teasing a glimpse of the eagle-winged tattoo on his chest, mysterious and intimate.
His dark hair is still damp, finger combed into an artful mess that somehow makes him look even hotter.
As I pass him the spoon, I steal a quick kiss from his smiling lips.
His mouth tastes faintly of mint toothpaste and something sweeter I can’t quite place.
He's sexy as hell.
“I’ll be quick,” I promise, winking before turning to grab the bottle of wine.
Now that Fashion Week has finally wrapped up, life is beginning to slide back into something resembling normal. We’ve both been craving quiet—an evening to unwind, to breathe, to let the chaos settle. Even if that means sharing it with my ex-husband.
To Gabriel’s credit, though, he’s been surprisingly considerate since coming back from Spain. He’s kept his distance, choosing to stay with his boyfriend instead of crashing here. That small gesture alone has done wonders for Alex’s peace of mind.
And honestly? It says a lot about where his heart is these days. He seems content… and, truthfully—I’m happy for him.
At the stove, Alex replaces the lid on the pot of rice, glancing over his shoulder. “I have to say, I’m actually excited to meet Gabriel’s boyfriend. Think he’ll be on his best behavior tonight?”
I chuckle, uncorking the wine and letting it breathe on the counter beside the plantains. “Gabriel? Best behavior? Don’t hold your breath.”
“Wonderful.” Alex groans, turning on the faucet to rinse his hands. “By the way, did you change the code for the elevator?”
I knew this question was coming. The penthouse elevator still gives him full access—meaning he can step right into our home without so much as a knock. It drives Alex crazy. I promised to change it to limited access, but I haven’t done it yet.
Part of me can’t bring myself to. This has always been Gabriel’s home, through every high and low we shared. It feels wrong to take that away.
But maybe now that he’s getting serious with his boyfriend…
Hoping to ease Alex’s mind—at least for tonight—I give him the answer I know he wants to hear.
“I’ll talk to him about it this week.”
I start down the hallway toward our bedroom, calling back, “In the meantime, there’s nothing to worry about. I told him to text before they come up. I’m sure he’ll listen.”
He doesn’t.