21. Gabe / Katherine
21
GABE / KATHERINE
Gabe
I wrap a towel around my waist and open the bathroom door. Alex stands on the other side, my phone in his hand.
“This thing won’t stop ringing.” He thrusts it against my chest.
I juggle it.
“You’re gonna need to cancel your plans,” he continues.
“For how long?”
My best friend levels me with a look that says as long as necessary.
“What’s going on?” I follow him into the bedroom, glancing around for Katherine.
“She’s out on the deck,” he says, reading my mind. “Talking to LaShonda on the phone.”
“LaShonda?”
“Best friend. Lives in Boston.”
I stare at him because none of that rings a bell. Except, mmm. . . lobster rolls.
“Focus, Gabe.”
“I was focused.”
Alex puts his hands on his hips.
“Not on food.”
I like to eat. Sue me. But I sense his urgency, so I don’t say that. Something tells me that our leisurely morning just went off the rails.
“What’s going on?”
“Get dressed, and I’ll tell you.”
Katherine
“Don’t lie to me, young lady.”
There’s a pause, and then LaShonda and I burst out laughing. Deep, joyous belly laughter. My soul and heart are happy.
Leaning against the railing, I look out at the overgrown backyard, imagining it at the height of summer. Trimmed and orderly. Full of friendly faces. The breeze thick with planted herbs and spices.
I keep my voice low when I answer. “I’m not lying. We slept together, but we didn’t have sex.”
She makes a scoffing sound. “I don’t see how that’s humanly possible. I’m not even into men, and even I can see how attractive those two are. Seriously. Have you seen them in a tuxedo?”
I hear her smirk through the phone speaker as I pace to the other end of the covered porch.
It’s my turn to scoff. “Try being up close and personal with those tuxedos.”
I’m still tingling.
With the clouds heading out, the sun peaks through, warming the incredible view. The waves are mesmerizing.
“Earth to Katherine.”
“I’m here.”
“One of them’s naked, aren’t they? You’re ogling hot billionaire booty right now. Admit it!”
Another laugh bubbles up my throat. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m looking at the view.”
“Is that what we’re calling the meat and two veg these days?”
I literally choke on my laugh. “Shon. . . I can’t believe you said that.”
“Am I wrong?”
I flip the camera around and show her the backyard and ocean beyond. She’s silent for several seconds.
“Girl. You better keep that one.” I’m not sure if she means the house or the man. “And then keep the property in the divorce. Gorg!”
Ahh. She means Gabe.
It’s time to distract her from that line of thinking. Otherwise, she’ll have our wedding planned for June 7th, just like we always dreamed about when we were little girls.
“Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice.” I perch on the railing and lean back against the post. She’s the only call I’ve taken. Because she might not have grown up like me, but she grew up with me. One snail mail letter at a time. She gets it. She remembers my life before it started going sideways and then flipped upside down.
I miss seeing her every day. I miss her wacky notes on the mirrors, in the fridge, all over our apartment. Because of her, I own a hefty amount of 3M stock.
“Be true. How are you?” she asks in that I’ve-known-you-forever-and-love-you-like-a-sister way.
There’s no escaping her, not that I want to. But I do need to figure out my plan of attack. My phone has buzzed with notifications half a dozen times during our brief call.
The world will not be held at bay.
“Tired. Which is odd because I slept great.”
“I still can’t believe you slept with them but didn’t fuck them. Is Aunt Flo in town?”
I snort. “No.”
Pulling up my mental calendar, I count down the days until my monthly frenemy arrives. Five more days until I curl up on the couch and vegetate.
Shon makes a sound I’m familiar with. Thoughtful, curious. It’s her Detective Shon hum, and she only makes it when she has sleuthing to do.
“You can be straight with me. I know you have the libido of a rabbit.”
My cheeks flame.
She’s not shaming me, and I know she never would, but still. That admission over too much Chardonnay still haunts me a little. But I honestly wanted to know, and if you can’t ask your bestie how many times a day she Jills off, who can you ask?
She blows out a frustrated sigh. “Turn me back around.”
I do as she asks. Her brown eyes study me as closely as the camera will allow. “How are you, really?”
Horny.
Confused.
But I know what she means, and I love her for it. She’s worried I’m spiraling out.
“I had a panic attack last night.”
“Oh, sugar. I wish I could hug you.”
“I wish you could, too.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through all this.”
I glance through the window where Alex is on his own phone. He radiates control. But not anger.
Our second kiss had been more explosive than the first. My lips are still tingling. So are other parts.
If Shon hadn’t called, who knows how far we’d have gone .
“It’s actually not so bad. Well, I haven’t really looked at my phone today.” There’s that guilty pang again. I shut it down like I’d squash a bug with a quick stomp.
“Honey, you slept on the floor last night.”
“I was on a mattress.”
“A used mattress with old sheets.”
“No one put bugs in my hair, and that’s more than I can say for when I went camping with Ford.” That was a long week. But if I can survive that, I can survive anything.
“How are you being so chill about this?” Her voice is ripe with suspicion.
Alex looks up then, staring at me through the window. My breath stalls, and there’s the answer.
He is the answer.
I’m chill because when I’m with him, I’m untouchable.
I’m safe.
Safer than I’ve ever felt and exactly how I always want to feel.
“Holy smokes. Who are you looking at? Show me.”
Shon’s voice pierces the bubble.
“Which one is it, Kay?”
Trust my smarty-pants friend to pick up on the tension. . . and my lust. Except, this is more than lust. Somewhere in the last twenty-four hours, I stopped crushing Alex Hunt and started falling. Hard .
I swallow, and he watches. Unmoving.
Does he feel this wild connection?
Why is it that when I look at him, the world and all its problems fade away?
Gabe strides into the room, and I suck in a breath.
He knows I kissed Alex. Is he going to say something? How did this get so complicated?
“I need to go talk to them,” I murmur.
“Text me. I want regular updates, missy.”
“Will do.”
“Don’t make me come out there, Kay. I might not leave,” she teases.
“That’d be amazing. Don’t tempt me. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I end the call and stride across the worn wooden decking. This house was obviously well-used and well-loved.
Inside, the guys are in the living room. Alex has his phone in hand, and Gabe, now dressed in a pair of jeans in a hoodie, is sitting on the pile of lumber, laptop teetering on his knees. His hair is damp from his shower, and his concentration is absolute as his fingertips fly over the keyboard.
What would they feel like on my skin? Teasing my clit?
My body flushes, and I squeeze my thighs together. Nope. Don’t think like that, Katherine.
I can get a hold of myself. I will .
I lick my lips and take a deep breath, clutching my phone as I step into the room. The large space has aired out a bit and now smells of wood and something chalky.
Alex pauses, his gaze lifting from the phone. Peace and heat sweep through me.
Gabe’s fingers stop tapping, and I glance his way.
His blue eyes meet mine.
Shon’s right. How did I keep to myself last night with these two? My stomach is in a tangle because they look as delicious in casual clothing as they do in tuxedos.
Moreso really. Knowing that the chemistry I’ve always felt isn’t one-sided is. . . heady. Which means they were true blue gentlemen last night. And probably have blue balls because of it.
What now?
There are the dates, obviously. But then what? I don’t think I can go back to sitting across the boardroom table from Gabriel and not want him. It’d kill me to attend events, seeing Alex and not knowing if we could have been something more. There’s no way to win here. Someone’s going to get hurt.
I’m tired of getting hurt.
None of that matters right now. Last night was a circus, and we need to deal with the fallout, not feelings.
So, first things first. See if we can go home without bringing all the performers to our doorstep and inconveniencing everyone in our building.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
They stare at me, then each other. It’s like they communicate without words. An entire conversation that I’m not a part of.
But it’s oddly sexy, and I don’t feel left out.
“My PR team has put out a statement,” Gabe says.
“Mine too. First thing this morning,” Alex adds.
I nod. That makes sense.
I can only imagine what they’re saying at Chanler and Cort. There’s no way our PR department is going to put out a statement about my love life. Or whatever the heck this is.
If you grab a dictionary and look up ‘stick in the ass,’ you’ll see the logo for my grandfather’s bank. Old. Wealthy. Zero sense of humor.
This whole situation probably has them worked into a lather because whatever their feelings about employees having a personal life, their standard response is no comment.
Questions of impropriety by a C-level executive? No comment.
Chairman of the board having a stroke? No comment.
They’re like the British royal family. Stiff upper lip and silence. They only tell investors enough to keep them from selling their stock .
Gabe shakes his head. “The head of the department thinks the whole auction thing is archaic. A throwback to the Middle Ages. But she’s the least of our problems right now.”
I grip my phone tighter. There’s a bigger problem? Maybe I should have looked. Like I said, pulled on the big girl panties and checked the damage. Was it too much to hope that the fire burned itself out overnight?
Gabe cuts a look at Alex.
He waves a hand at the old but delicate pink Louis XV chair. “Have a seat.”
Those words in that voice put my nerves on edge. But I do as he suggests, folding myself into the chair, crossing my legs at the ankles and tucking my phone beneath my left thigh. Alex claims the bucket to my right, dwarfing it.
“Because no one’s heard from you, they’re claiming we might have kidnapped you,” he says.
“What?” My jaw drops, and I stare at him. Then at Gabe and back. “You’re joking.”
He gives a single shake of his head.
My temper flashes hot. Bright.
“I haven’t been gone a full twenty-four hours.”
“No one’s called in a missing person’s report or anything like that. It’s just speculation on social media and whispers in some rags.”
I sigh and shake my head. “I didn’t think it could get any weirder than last night, but apparently, I was wrong.” My voice rises with each word.
I glance at Gabe. The tech tycoon looks adorably baffled. Like he’s trying to figure out how the world works. And Alex is still steady as a boulder. Unflappable.
And that calm seeps into me.
I grab it with both hands and pull myself up above the mental waves crashing over my head. It’s like he’s comfortable being uncomfortable. And if anyone knows how to fake comfortable, it’s me.
I take a deep breath and nod, letting my mind run. Damage control. Because I’m not letting these men take the heat for everything.
“Should we try to go back to the city?” Gabe asks.
“Don’t love that idea,” Alex says, holding my gaze.
“Surely our building isn’t surrounded still.”
I’m with him on that one.
“It’s not that.” He finally glances at his best friend. “We need to get a security detail worked out for her.”
“What?” My gaze skips to Alex, brows jumping toward the ceiling.
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You just had two of Manhattan’s wealthiest bachelors bid a million dollars each to date you, Katie Bird. That’s put a big target on your back.”