12
GABE
The bar we went to was a dive, but it was quiet. One drink turned into two, and soon both Syn and I were tipsy and babbling nonsense. We’d been talking for hours, yet it only seemed like minutes. I enjoyed talking to her. I didn’t have to wonder what she was thinking; it was all there on her face. She laughed. She frowned. She contorted her features with more expressions than I knew people were capable of.
When a song she particularly liked came on, she got off the stool and held out her hand. “Dance with me,” she begged, pouting. She stayed like that, lips turned downward and eyelids fluttering frantically, until I relented and took her hand. She tugged me off the stool and pulled me to the floor, wrapping her arms around my neck.
She was fucking beautiful in a strange magnetic way that had nothing to do with her looks. There was no escaping it. She closed her eyes as she swayed, her lips moving in time with the lyrics. Her body felt warm pressed against mine.
Part of me wanted to kiss her.
Again, a surge of annoyance went through me that I couldn’t—or rather, shouldn’t. She’d shown no interest in me other than friendship and the occasional teasing jibe. But regardless, I wasn’t about to give her up. I needed this. I needed her friendship. There was something about being around Syn that felt like home—a home I’d never known but where I instantly felt at peace, like I belonged. It felt natural to talk to her, to tease her, to be in her presence.
She rested her head on my chest when the music changed, pressing her cheek to my heart. I tightened my grip, lacing my fingers across her back. The material of her top felt flimsy under my hands. Her skin was smooth.
Lowering my head, I whispered into her ear, “Is it okay if I stay with you again tonight? I just don’t want to be alone.” Part of that was true. I wanted to stay with her again, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be alone; it was because I wanted to be around her.
She lifted her eyes. It was the first time I noticed they were a cross between hazel and green, not plain brown as I’d previously assumed. She hadn’t looked at me like that before, so openly. She usually darted her eyes around, not resting them on any one person or thing. But here, in this shitty bar with shitty music, she looked at me in a way that made my heart smile.
She didn’t know me like others did. She didn’t come with pre-determined assumptions, even after she confessed she’d read those stupid articles. She didn’t see the man everyone else saw—the man who had fallen in and out of love with the wrong women, the man who lived up to the expectation of disappointing his family.
She just saw me.
“Sure,” she said. Then her eyes twinkled mischievously. “But no matter how much you want me to, I’m not having sex with you tonight.”
I laughed. “Deal.” I didn’t even tease her about adding the ‘tonight’ at the end of her statement.
“We’re just friends, okay?” she said, her eyes almost pleading with me.
“Fine by me,” I lied. “Besides, I have a pretty bad track record with relationships.”
She snorted. “Did you not hear my story?” We pulled apart, and she threaded the fingers of one hand through mine. “Let’s go,” she said as a yawn overtook her. “I’m exhausted.”
She leaned against me heavily, allowing me to lead her from the bar. I’d had too much to drink, so we called a taxi that took us back to her place. Even though it was late, Brittney and Brady were still up watching TV. They barely acknowledged us as we stumbled through the now-messy lounge and into her bedroom.
Slipping her sweatpants off, she climbed into bed just as she had the night before. I tried to look away, but this time I couldn’t. The skin of her thighs was dotted with small freckles, and like everything else in her bedroom, her lingerie matched. I could tell from the peek of her bra through the buttonholes of her shirt. It was white lace rather than the black she had worn the night before. I swallowed deeply, casting aside the thoughts that floated through my mind, urging me to kiss her, touch her, hold her. I pushed my jeans over my hips, letting them fall to the floor, and climbed under the blankets. Instantly, Syn wiggled closer so her head rested on my chest, and my arm went around her. She made a sound, a contented sigh that made my heart skip a little. She was more affectionate than she had been the night before—probably because of the alcohol.
“Night, Gabe,” she whispered.
I pressed my lips to her forehead, ignoring the waves of lust that pulsed through me. “Night, Syn.”
And she fell asleep like that—in my arms, head on my chest, breath tickling my skin, one leg hooked over mine.
Then she started to snore, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The sound disturbed her, and she shifted, spreading her body further across mine.
I gripped her tightly. Usually, I’d be alone in Jake’s apartment while he slept at Amelia’s, with Tyler and Lauren still on their honeymoon in the apartment above. It was nice to have someone all to myself.
* * *
It was late when I woke. I’d somehow managed to sleep in. Syn had moved away at some point during the night. She was spread-eagle in the bed again, with me pressed to the edge of the mattress. The sleeve of her shirt had been tugged up her arm, exposing the flesh above her wrist. Her skin was scattered with blotches of red in random patterns. Scars. I wondered how far up her arm they went. I wondered how she’d gotten them. I wondered if that was why she always kept her arms covered.
“Want a coffee?” Syn asked before I even realized she was awake. Her voice was raspy with early morning tiredness as she tugged down her sleeve.
“God, yes.” My head thumped slightly even though I hadn’t had much to drink the night before.
Rather than getting out of her side of the bed, Syn clambered over me, and I hoped she didn’t notice the way I sucked in a breath when she briefly straddled my chest. But she did. She stopped right there and bent down to peck a kiss on my nose. Her thighs were warm, pressed against the bare skin of my sides. The cheeks of her ass brushed against me, positioned so low that I had to stifle a moan.
“Morning,” she said, her twisted smirk telling me she knew exactly what she was doing.
I swallowed deeply. “Are you doing this on purpose just to mess with me?”
“What?” She tried to appear innocent but didn’t pull it off. The gentle rolling grind of her hips didn’t help either.
I groaned exaggeratedly and pushed her away.
She laughed as she hopped off the bed and strolled slowly to the door before gripping the doorknob and grinning back at me. “Okay, maybe I was messing with you, just a little.”
A thought pushed into my mind. “No, no.” I shoved myself up in bed, leaning back against the headboard. “I get what you’re saying. We’re friends. You should feel free to do whatever you normally do around me.” I grabbed the edges of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. “And I should do the same.”
Syn’s gaze flicked down to my chest before snapping back to my eyes guiltily. A wave of triumph surged through me. She wasn’t immune to my charms. I faked a yawn and stretched, flexing to emphasize my muscles.
She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Now who’s messing with who, huh?”
“Ah, so you admit it’s messing with you?” I wiggled my brows and ran my hands down my chest, biting my bottom lip and doing my best to appear stupidly seductive.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just a guy, like every other guy.” But the way her gaze lingered before she walked out of the room betrayed her. I sat back in bed, hands behind my head and a satisfied grin on my face. I won that round.
Syn turned on the stereo in the lounge, letting more of her modern crap music fill the house, and sang along quietly. When she came back, she held two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands.
“Do you not work Mondays?” She clambered into the bed, wobbling a little to maintain her balance.
“Sundays and Mondays are my days off.”
She placed a foot on either side of me, still trying to keep her balance. She teetered a little, and a splash of hot liquid fell onto my chest.
“Shit.” I inhaled sharply.
“Oh!” She smirked. “Sorry about that. Guess you should have left your shirt on.”
She bent down, extending the mug toward me while teasing that she was about to spill it again. I grabbed it quickly and held it securely as she laughed and plopped herself down, cursing as her own coffee stained the sheets.
“So you live alone?” She looked at me over the rim of her coffee, her pursed lips blowing on the hot liquid.
I shook my head and did the same, watching the steam swirl and twist. “Nope. I live with Jake, actually. Or rather, I have a mattress on the floor in his apartment. But he spends most of his time at Amelia’s now. They’re having some argument about where they’re going to live once the baby comes. Jake’s apartment is huge, but Amelia still likes her house. She says it’s more homely.”
I took a sip of the coffee and instantly spat it back out. “What is this?” I wiped my mouth, wanting to rid myself of the taste.
“Coffee,” Syn said bluntly.
“What kind?”
She shrugged and took a sip of her own, swallowing it easily. “I don’t know. Whatever’s in the tin.”
“It’s instant?” I knew I sounded like a coffee snob. But I was. That’s what you get for working in cafés. Before then, I didn’t care what it tasted like as long as it had caffeine.
“Yes, it’s instant. I’m not slaving away at some convoluted coffee machine in the mornings. When I want coffee, I want it now.”
“You could at least have filter coffee at the bare minimum.”
“Sorry, your highness.” She gave a mock bow. “I didn’t realize it would offend your taste buds.” She stuck out her tongue and crossed her legs, tucking them up closely before taking another sip. “Ahh,” she moaned. “Nothing like a good strong coffee in the mornings.”
Leaning over, I placed the mug on the floor. “This is not coffee.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Hate to break it to you, but it is.”
Climbing out of bed, I pulled on my shirt and jeans.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“ We are going to get decent coffee.”
“Do we have to?” she groaned.
“Yes.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But you’re paying.”
I shook my head. “I’m not paying for it. I’m making it.”
“We’re going to your place just for coffee?”
“Nope. Not my place. Come on.”
“Can’t I have a shower first?”
“Shower later.”
She sighed dramatically again and rolled her eyes before getting out of bed and pulling on a dress. She turned away as she changed, making sure I could only catch a glimpse of her. Once she was done, she lifted one arm, sniffed her armpit, frowned a little, shrugged, and then walked out the door.
“Shit,” I said as I followed her. “My car is still at the bar.”
“That’s okay.” She grabbed a set of keys from the top of the fridge. “We’ll take Brittney’s. She doesn’t work Mondays either, and she’ll be asleep for hours yet. She and Brady keep odd hours.”
“Shouldn’t you ask her first?”
“Probably. But I like pissing her off.” She looked over her shoulder and threw me a wink. “Are we going to get that coffee or not?”
“Well, I definitely can’t drink that excuse for coffee you gave me, so I guess we’re going.”
“Good.” She held out the keys. “You drive. I feel like I’m a little hungover from last night.”
“That makes two of us.”
Brittney’s car was old and cranky. It reminded me of the old jeep I used to drive. Basic, but it did the job. We pulled up at the café I worked at before we started the gym and cut the engine. My old workmates greeted me like a long-lost friend, even though it had only been a couple of weeks since I’d called in. Harry, one of Jake’s army mates who had become one of my good friends, was behind the counter, having taken the position I left. He could be a jerk, but sometimes I liked hanging out with jerks. I jumped over the counter, thumped him on the back in greeting, and headed to the coffee machine.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Making coffee.”
“I believe that’s my job now. Not yours.”
“I’ve had one of your coffees before, remember?”
“I’m better now,” he insisted. He glanced over to where Syn was settling at a table, pulling out her phone and staring at it while I was busy. “Who’s the girl?”
“Syn.”
“Syn?”
“Yup. Syn.”
“She your new side piece?”
“Nope. Just friends.”
Harry leaned against the counter and grinned slyly. “Sure,” he mocked, drawing the word out slowly. “Are you even capable of being ‘just friends’?”
“We are,” I insisted, annoyed by his suggestion. I tamped down the ground coffee beans with extra pressure, imagining they were his face.
“Since you’re not with her, mind if I have a go?” His grin twisted into a smirk.
“Try it and die,” I growled.