Chapter 38
ALEX
“There you go, chulo.” Gabriel kneels between my legs, his hands rubbing slow, steady circles over my thighs. I let out a breath, the tension in my body beginning to slip away, unspooling like a thread pulled loose. Exhaustion settles over me like a weighted blanket—heavy, but oddly welcome.
My thoughts fade out of focus, everything I just learned from Noah retreats to the back of my mind. Not gone, just… quieter. Distant. For now.
“Did you drug me?” I mumble, eyeing Gabriel with half-lidded suspicion.
He chuckles, tossing my socks off to the side of the bed and tugging at the drawstrings of my lounge pants. Except… these aren’t mine.
I squint. “Are these yours?”
That smug smirk answers for him.
For fuck’s sake. I’m wearing his pants.
I flop back, missing the pillow entirely. I’m so mentally drained, I can’t even bring myself to care. Gabriel, of course, fixes it for me, sliding it under my head with ridiculous gentleness.
This—this—is exactly what I meant when I said he cares.
He could have just dumped me on the bed and called it a night, but instead he helped me out of my clothes, made me some coffee—with coconut liquor—his idea, naturally, and hummed some off-key Spanish lullaby in the kitchen.
Against all logic, it relaxed me, which is surprising, coming from the one person who’s an expert at getting on my last nerve.
I take a sip of the coffee, the warmth settling what’s left of the tremor in me, and then he takes it from my hands, setting it beside the bed.
“Mind if I lie down with you?” he asks, yawning, looking as wrecked as I feel. I’d nearly forgotten he was up all night at the hospital with Noah.
Under normal circumstances, that would be a hard N-O. But right now, I don’t have an ounce of energy to care.
“Go ahead,” I mutter. The mix of coffee and liquor has me so relaxed, I can’t seem to muster up a single flying fuck about whether he stays or goes.
Kicking off his shoes, he stretches out beside me, leaving a respectful amount of space between us. His shorts hang low on his hips, the red waistline of his underwear peeking out at the top. He crosses his ankles and laces his hands behind his head.
As we both settle, he clears his throat. “What happened with Noah tonight?” he asks softly. “Talk to me, Alex. Because I need to understand some things too.”
I fling the pillow aside. “Talk? Really? Because the last time I tried, you slapped your mouth on mine.”
He smirks. “That was babbling. And it worked.” He runs a hand through his hair. “And no, I’m not apologizing. I’ve wanted to taste your lips for a long time.” He turns to the side, fingers lightly brushing my bottom lip. “Now I have my answer.”
“I didn’t realize you had a question,” I snap.
“Mm. My question was, ‘What do your lips taste like?’” He tugs my lip gently. “Answer? Strawberries. And sin.”
“Good thing you love both,” I reply, breathing through the panic tunneling through my chest.
“That I do,” he drawls in that thick Spanish accent. His expression shifts. “I love Noah too. Just… not a fan of sin.”
And just like that, my mood sours. “Then maybe you should get out of this bed.”
“Maybe,” he taunts, smirk sliding back into place. “But Elijah asked me to stay by your side until he gets here, so that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think he meant literally, Gabriel. And besides—how does he even know I’m with you? You were on your way to see Noah, not me,” I quip, needing to set the record straight.
“I called him,” Gabriel admits. “Told him I found you barely able to speak—though we both know you were running your mouth like an expert… all over mine.”
The wink he tosses my way makes me flinch—and he doesn’t miss it. His hand softens against my cheek.
“I’ll keep that between us,” he purrs. “Anyway, Elijah said he was going to stop by Noah’s to check on him. Naturally, he was worried—especially after what you told me, and then… what we found.”
I lift my head. “What did you find?”
“Poems,” he says, nonchalantly, brushing a finger across the arch of my brow. “About you.”
“Poems?” I echo, trying to breathe through the sudden weight in my chest. “I wasn’t aware he wrote poetry.”
“Me neither.” He sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “Eight months together and somehow I missed that.”
He shifts to his side and lifts my wrist, his thumb tracing the ink, slow and gentle, the simple attention sending a quiet ease through me.
“By the way,” he says, almost casually, “I keep meaning to ask—did you ever flip this piece over like I suggested? To see what’s on the other side?
Obviously, I’m talking about the sketch you have back home. ”
I shake my head. “Didn’t need to. Believe it or not, Noah just explained it.”
Gabriel’s eyes widen. “Did he?”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, settling back against the pillow. “It was a surprise to me too. It’s one of those Magic Eye things. You stare long enough, and the hidden image pops out. Stereo-something.”
“An autostereogram,” he corrects.
“Exactly.” I exhale slowly and lift my wrist, holding it in front of us. “See here?” I drag my finger over the lighter shade of ink. “That’s the rain,” I explain—simple, just like Noah had. I shift my finger across the darker ink. “And this… tears.”
Gabriel tilts his head, squinting.
“Now look between them,” I tell him. “Just keep looking.”
He stares.
Stares some more.
Really stares.
And then—
“Dios mío.” He breathes out, too stunned to blink. “Is that… him? Looking out from the rain?”
I nod, unable to speak.
He skims his fingers across the ink, light, slow, sending a shiver up my arm.
“Christ, Alex. It was right in front of us this whole time.” His brows knit. “Her talent… it’s so—”
“Fucked up,” I mutter, too tired to dress it up as anything else.
He snickers. “Yeah. Fucked up would be accurate. I’ve always said Meera never leaves her artwork unfucked.”
I pull my wrist back, but he holds on a beat longer, slipping his fingers between mine.
The touch stops me, catches somewhere behind my ribs, like he’s asking without words.
For a moment, it feels like he’s holding more than just my hand.
And part of me wants to stay there forever, tangled in the quiet courage he’s offering me. Then he squeezes, gently and firmly.
“Everything will be alright, Alex. I promise.”