Chapter 29
ELIJAH
“Meera’s his sister? That’s absurd.” I shake my head as Steven rolls to a stop in front of our building, reaching for the door handle.
“That’s what I said!” Gabriel snaps.
“Well… I don’t feel right about this.” I hop down from the SUV and hold a hand out to him. “Noah wouldn’t want us digging through his things.”
“Trust me, Elijah. He’s hiding something.”
I slam the car door and jog to catch up. “Then ask him,” I plead. “Breaking into his apartment is wrong. Not to mention illegal. And, honestly, it’s none of our business.”
“It’s my business!”
Gabriel spins around, suddenly gripping my shoulders.
“I have a key,” he adds, voice lower, like he knows he’s already crossed a line. “So… it’s not technically breaking in.”
His face is flushed, eyes red. He gives me a slight shake.
“Listen, Elijah. I saw her. Mimi… Meera, whatever—his sister. He calls her Erica. She walked right into his bedroom last night and scared the shit out of us.” He pauses, raking both hands through his hair.
“And that’s not even the fucked-up part. ”
I say nothing. Just wait.
“She was expecting Alex.” His voice cracks. “Alex,” he says again to make sure I heard him correctly.
He grabs a fistful of hair and yanks—hard.
“Goddamn it! Noah panicked, Elijah. He went ballistic. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He wipes the back of his wrist across his trembling lips, then goes back to pulling his hair. “I was so scared for him. You should have seen the look on his face.”
He lets go and grabs my shoulders again, tighter this time. His grip hurts, but I don’t flinch.
I reach up, gently taking his hands and guiding them down between us. My thumbs glide over the backs of his hands—small, slow movements.
“Okay, mi amor. I believe you. But you need to calm down, or you’ll end up in the hospital right next to Noah.”
His head drops. Shoulders sag.
“She said she was surprised to see me,” Gabriel mutters. “Made some comment about me being into twinks now.”
I squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “Oh, love, Noah’s a beautiful per—”
“That’s not why I’m upset, Elijah. You know I don’t give a fuck about that.”
I nod. It’s true—he doesn’t.
“Then what is it?”
He looks up at me, tears streaking his deep-gray eyes.
“Didn’t you hear me? She was expecting to see Alex.”
A beat of silence. The words hang between us like static.
“But why would Alex be at Noah’s?”
Gabriel blows out a breath. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I have no fucking clue.”
I take his hand and gently guide him toward the elevator. It chimes softly as the doors slide open. I step in first, giving Gabriel’s hand a light tug to follow.
“Alright. If it’ll give you peace of mind, we’ll take a look around.” I glance at him, my tone turning firm. “Just… be respectful of Noah’s space.”
He nods, but his eyes stay distant, troubled, lost in thoughts I can’t quite reach.
As the doors close behind us, a quiet settles between us.
And I can’t help but wonder… what exactly are we about to find?
I’m not sure what I expected when we walked into Noah’s apartment—but it wasn’t this.
His place feels completely different from mine. Granted, I live in the penthouse, but I assumed the other units in this building had a similar layout or style. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Where my space is sleek and contemporary—metals, glass, stone—Noah’s is warm and earthy, filled with a mix of dark and light woods. There’s a quiet calm to it, almost like stepping into a forest. Soothing. Intentional. I wonder if Gabriel had a hand in the decor.
A soft glow spills from the hallway to my left—the direction Gabriel disappeared down moments ago.
His anxiety’s on edge. His hair is disheveled, verging on wild territory.
Normally, I’d find it irresistible, but I make a mental note to suggest a trim soon…
not that it matters. Gabriel could grow it to his waist and still turn heads.
“Close the door,” he barks as I step into Noah’s bedroom.
The first thing that catches my eye is a stainless-steel pole—right in the center of the room. It sticks out like a sore thumb against the otherwise rustic furnishings.
Off to the left, a king-size bed sits in soft disarray, its colorful quilt—shades of pink and purple—half hanging to the floor.
“Don’t mind the bed,” Gabriel says, reading my mind. An unmade bed. My ultimate pet peeve. It drives me insane.
I look away, trying to ignore it, and spot a rolltop desk tucked into the far corner, nestled between two slanted windows. The little nook feels homey, cozy. It’s cute, and I can see Noah spending a lot of time there, lost in thought.
Gabriel plops into the chair and runs his fingers along the underside of the desk. I step closer, hovering beside him.
“Be gentle,” I warn. “It looks like an antique—probably costs a fortune.”
He shoots me a look that says don’t you think I know this, and I raise my hands in surrender as, with deliberate care, he slides the wooden slats back—and I draw in a breath.
The top of the desk is scattered with sheets of white-lined paper. Some are crumpled up and pushed off to the side, others are left half finished. Gabriel places his hand over the one that looks like a child’s doodle.
I lean over his shoulder, thumbing through the loose pages, until something catches my eye—one with actual words written neatly across the top.
But, I love you,
I tell him, as my mind slips free, and I add another T.
Butt, I love you…
I add—with sass—as I’m checking out his ass.
I choke down a laugh.
It’s a poem. Or at least the start of one. Clever. That wordplay on “but.” It pulls a smile out of me. I didn’t expect this from Noah—a playful, poetic side.
“Did you know he writes poetry?” I ask, resting my hand against the back of Gabriel’s neck. It’s warm. Tense beneath my palm.
“I had no idea.”
Gabriel sifts through the clutter, picking up a scrunched-up sheet buried beneath the others. He carefully unfolds it, smoothing out the creases. The ink is blotchy, smeared in places—watermarked like it’s been cried on. He flattens the corners, brow furrowing as he begins to read aloud…
I bet you would have loved me, and I’d never have known the pain.
I bet you could have made my world shine, instead of me finding the rain.
Tears may have clouded my vision, but they could never have blinded my sight.
My heart knew the direction to take—even with oceans to fight.
Tell me what you see when you look through my eyes.
Do they take you into my soul where it’s withstood a thousand cries?
But still, I love you, I whisper, despite you not knowing of another.
Did you know you were even lost when I knew you were my brother?
“Dios mío.” We both gasp.
Look at me, love, dive into my eyes.
Use the rain to wash my tears, so I no longer have to cry.
I swam through oceans you so desperately crave to swim.
And now I’ve found you, my brother, it’s you… You are him.
“But, could you love me?” I ask. “Could we make the rain ours?”
“Yes, I think I can love you,” you answer, “but…”
“BUT FUCKING WHAT?!” Gabriel shouts, slamming his fist against the desk. He flips the paper over, then tosses it to the floor, like it burned him.
My stomach tightens. I grab two more pages. Blank. He snatches three. Also blank.
“It’s Alex,” he says, voice cracking as he looks up at me, the fight draining from his eyes. “He’s Noah’s brother.”
I drop to my knees. “Oh, chulo…” I whisper into his wild, trembling hair, pulling him into my arms.