15. Gabe
15
GABE
“So the other day, when you said Alex is straight...” Kingston says as we stand on the back deck of my beach house.
I had a feeling we were going to circle back around to this topic.
It’s a beautiful day. Clear with a soft breeze. The meeting with the designer was more than I could have hoped for. And King had a lot of interesting perspectives.
“Yeah.” I know what he’s getting at. At least, I think I do. But it’s not something I’m going to verbalize. Not yet. Not until I know where he stands.
Although actions are always a strong indicator of belief. And if that’s the case where he’s concerned, then he’s definitely been sending some looks my way.
Hot. Needy. Inquisitive looks.
“Meaning you’re not,” he hedges, voice quiet and careful. Then he glances at me from the corner of his eye. Just a quick look, checking my reaction.
I can appreciate how he poses it. A curiosity. Yet not the slightest hint of condemnation. On the whole, Kingston Saint is incredibly laid back, almost to a fault. But he obviously takes action when it’s needed. And we have a mutual on our enemy list. Lucinda Winthrop.
“I’ve never really put a label on it.” Which is the truth. Because Alex has always been straight in my mind. In his interests and the occasional hook-up.
Whereas I felt like I was launched into a potpourri of possibilities as my business took off. Even before that, really. My time in college was so unlike anything I’d ever experienced back home.
I soaked it up like a sponge.
“Me either, now that I think about it,” he says. “I was friends with a couple. We went to parties and hung out a lot. Things got heated at a club one night. We were too young, but the bouncers didn’t care. The owner, however, didn’t want to lose his licenses.”
He smiles at the memory, staring down into the overgrown flower bed.
“We were hiding in the stairwell. She kissed me. He kissed her. The next thing I knew, he was kissing me.”
“And the rest is history?” I ask. It’s startling how similar our stories are.
The corner of his mouth hitches up in an easy grin.
“Pretty much.”
“How long ago was that?”
He purses his lips, thinking. “Over a decade.”
So he’s had plenty of time to figure out who he is. Being bisexual is not a passing fling for him. I don’t know why that settles something in me. Maybe because I’m already super aware of how much younger he is. How it feels like I’m racing up to that point in life where most people are settling down or already well-settled.
Settling hasn’t been on my radar.
At least not in the traditional sense. Alex and I have always been tight. Hell, I think we were entrenched pretty much the moment I moved in with him in college.
Once I got past the shock of my life of going through hell and then meeting my guardian angel all in one year, I was in. And I was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. We’ve hung on to each other through success, fame, failure, betrayals, and so much more.
I was there for him during his time in the military, and I funded his company when he started it. He was there for me as I stretched my wings, saying yes to everything life had to offer. And he congratulated me on every milestone I reached.
I can’t imagine life without him. He’s my ultimate ride-or-die.
“So, what do you think?” King murmurs, giving the railing a shake. It doesn’t budge.
Like most things with this house, it was built well of good materials. But the spaces don’t feel current. Or like home.
King turns his hands around, the heel of his palms facing out, and leans over the rail until his toes lift off the porch. The display of muscle as he shifts into a sort of Superman pose where he’s supported by his arms is impressive.
I prop a shoulder against a post and watch, mesmerized. “I thought I was in shape, but I’m obviously delusional.”
His lips twitch, and his soft green eyes meet mine as he lowers his feet to the ground. “I meant about Raquel.”
“Oh.” A flush of embarrassment heats my skin. “Right. Yeah. I like her.”
She seems to get me and what I ultimately want this space to be. An oasis. Comfortable.
“But you’re leery. Understandable.”
“Yeah.” Turns out my last designer’s assistant gaslit me for months. My lawyers are handling it, freeing me up to try again.
He leans a hip against the railing, looking so at ease. Effortlessly handsome and dressed like he was born out here on this island amidst its fancy homes and picturesque little towns. I’ve never been a loafers guy, but he makes me want to give it a shot.
Hell, it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to take me shopping.
What is happening?
I’ve always been comfortable in my jeans and t-shirts and hoodies. Somewhere along the way I acquired a stylist who shops for my suits and such. And while I’m sure I look good, sometimes it feels like I’m playing dress-up. Probably because I’m not confident in my choices. I’d bet my favorite sneakers that King understands fabrics and accessories in a way that is completely foreign to me.
Kingston has the sort of style that makes an impression.
Katherine has that, too.
Were they born with it? Can it be learned? Why do I care?
“Well, for what it’s worth, she’s worked for my family for years. I don’t think you’ll have a problem with her getting the work done.”
“Oh, I’m sure I won’t. Lightning can’t strike in the same place twice, right?” What are the chances?
“Then you should hire her. You deserve your retreat.” He holds my gaze and my stomach does a backflip.
Retreat. Oasis. Both words make my brain buzz with what can only be described as joy.
Kingston glances out at the water, and I follow his gaze, letting the charge between us fizzle.
There’s a pristine white yacht motoring by, brilliant against the deep blue water. I can see the appeal. Coming and going when you please. A slower pace.
I’m starting to worry that I hit my head because I chased the adrenaline rush of building my business for so long. Racing against my past and all the demons telling me I wasn’t good enough. And suddenly, I’m thinking of slowing down. Changing gears, shifting lanes.
What the fuck is happening?
“You ever think about that?” Kingston asks, chin jutting toward the yacht.
“I’m starting to.” In fact, I’m starting to think about a lot of things I never considered before.