9. Alex
9
Alex
B est. Night. Ever. I try to stretch out my legs to no avail. I’ve slept in my car many times before. I love the serenity and fresh air. But this is the first time I’ve had to share this space with someone and it’s a little cramped. I’m not complaining. I had Gabby all to myself for the entire night.
Oddly enough, this isn’t the first time Gabby and I have slept together, and I do mean slept, nothing else. About a year ago, when Aly was still living in 312, the girls’ condo flooded. It took weeks for Gabby’s and Aly’s rooms to be repaired. Aly stayed with Jax while Gabby and I shared my bed. For the first few weeks, we worked on opposite schedules. We barely saw each other, only passing by on our way in and out of work. But then the final week happened and we ended up in bed together for three days. Gabby was horrified when she realized she had to sleep with me. She even tried putting a barrier of pillows between us. I was a total gentleman the whole time, but Gabby? Let’s just say she woke me up in a compromising position. She swears she was asleep and not aware of what was going on, but I still like to bring up the topic every now and then. She’s so cute when she blushes.
Tilting my head, I try to get a better look at Gabby, who’s currently bundled up in a blanket and still sleeping soundly on my chest. I hope she remembers where she is when she wakes up or this could get awkward. I know she won’t be asleep for much longer. The sun is starting to peek up over the trees.
“Rise and shine,” I whisper into her ear.
“Five more minutes,” she mumbles into my chest.
God, I could get used to this.
“But then you’ll miss the sunrise.”
That gets her going. She lifts her head and rubs her eyes. “It’s morning already?”
“Mm-hmm.” I’m relieved she didn’t freak out after realizing she wasn’t in her bed.
“I feel like I slept for days.” She sits up and scoots back to look at me.
“I told you I had a remedy.”
“That you did.” She tilts her head up with wide eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
I swivel around just in time to see a kaleidoscope of yellow and orange hues swirling over the treetops. The view never gets old.
“I like watching the sunrise. It’s a reminder that each day has a new beginning.”
“I never thought of it like that,” she says softly while keeping her focus on the sky. We stay quiet as the sun continues to rise. When nature’s show is over, she turns to me. “What do we do now?”
“Hmm.” I hop out of the back of my car and begin cleaning up the blankets. “I was thinking we could go to Portside Perks for a caramel coconut cold brew. Oof!” I take a step back as Gabby catches me off guard by leaping and throwing her arms around my neck. “I take that as a yes?”
“Yes!” She beams and unhooks her arms from around me. I study her for a moment. Something looks different about her. There’s a lightness to her features, and I realize that until today, I’ve never seen her genuinely happy.
***
I head down the hallway to our condo’s laundry room, balancing my overflowing basket of dirty clothes and trying not to leave a trail of socks and underwear in my wake. Work has been brutal lately. Talk of our captain leaving and who’s up for the job has been nonstop. I’m not too concerned about the change in hierarchy. What I’m more focused on is the potential opportunity for me to move up in the ranks. If a new captain is hired internally, then a lieutenant position will be up for grabs. Is that something I’m ready for? I’m sure my parents would scoff at the idea, but I can’t make life decisions based on what makes them happy. I tried and nearly lost myself in the process.
I let out a sigh and look down at the basket of laundry I’m holding. One thing I do know for sure is that if I don’t get these washed, I’ll be walking around in my birthday suit pretty soon. I don’t mind much, but apparently there are rules about public nudity and stuff.
The scent of detergent and dryer sheets hits my nose as I push through the door of our condo’s laundry room. It’s funny how I can still wrack up a pile of dirty clothes when I avoid wearing them so much. As I lift open the lid to the washer, I see Gabby hauling a netted bag of laundry.
“Hey, baby girl!” I jog to hold the door open for her. “Looks like we had the same idea. ”
“Oof.” She heaves a large bag of laundry onto a table. “How is it possible that we work the wackiest hours and yet still manage to be off at the same time?”
“Must be fate.” I wink. I’ve wondered that myself. Lately, our schedules seem to be in sync with each other.
“I don’t believe in fate.” She begins throwing a heap of dark clothes into one of the washers.
“Why not? It worked for Aly and Jax.”
“Yeah, but that’s their story. A one-in-a-billion chance.” She measures a capful of detergent.
“Which means it could happen again. I think your pessimistic outlook on life could use a little more of my optimistic influence.”
“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist.”
“To-may-to, to-mah-to. I believe if you keep a positive attitude, good things will come your way.” I take all the clothes from my basket and smush them down into the drum of the washer.
“Alex!” Gabby squeals. “What are you doing?”
“Laundry. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re overfilling the washer.”
“Nah, it’s all good.” I use my fist to punch down the pile. “Once the water starts going, it will shrink down…it’s kind of like spinach.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She puts her hands on her hips. “You didn’t even sort your lights from your darks.”
I take a few steps closer to her, lean down, and whisper in her ear, “I hate to tell you this, but I’ve never sorted my laundry and everything has always turned out fine.”
She takes a step back and looks up at me with an amused grin on her face. “You are one of a kind, Alejandro Jones.”
“And don’t you forget it.” I playfully tap her on the nose. I turn back to my wash, remembering my plan. I need to get to know Gabby on a deeper level and I missed out on an opportunity when we sat under the stars. I realized too late that I talked about myself the majority of the time. “I was planning to go to the gym to pass the time, but do you mind if I hang out here with you?”
“Umm, yeah, I guess that’s okay.” She bites down on the bottom of her lip.
“Did you have other plans?”
“No. I did bring a book with me, though.” She holds up a book that must’ve been with her laundry bag.
“Another romance novel?”
“Of course. That’s all I read.” She shrugs one shoulder.
“I don’t get it. You don’t date, but you read love story after love story.”
“Yes.” She takes her book and sits on one of the blue plastic chairs lining the wall. “The books I read guarantee a happily ever after. I know real life isn’t like that, but for at least a little while, I can escape into a world without sadness.”
“I don’t think this world is that sad.” I take a seat next to her and rest my arm around the back of her chair. Without fail, Gabby scootches closer into my side. I don’t even think she’s aware of how many times she cuddles up next to me when we’re together. “I mean, sure, tragic things happen, but there’s also a lot of good out there. I guess it really depends on what you choose to focus on.”
“I guess so,” she says noncommittally and then perks up. “I looked up your parents the other day.”
“Oh? And what did you find out about them?” It doesn’t surprise me that she looked them up. If Gabby told me her parents were local celebrities, I would search for them too. It’s also super easy to find information about them. A quick search of Jones and Elmwood Grove, Oregon, will provide you with that .
“Well, first of all, your dad’s name is Bob Jones? That’s the most generic-sounding name I’ve heard.” She laughs.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “His professors in college told him he would be better off with a stage name. You know, something more memorable, but he was set on using his real one. That’s why my mom insisted that all the kids have Hispanic names. She hoped it would counteract the plainness of our surname.”
“Speaking of your mom, she is gorgeous.”
“I do get some of my best features from her,” I agree. My mom is in her mid-sixties but doesn’t look a day over thirty-five. Despite rumors, she has never had any plastic surgery. She chalks it up to a healthy lifestyle and good genes.
“They also seem to do a lot of charity work,” Gabby continues.
“They do. Their presence at events brings in a lot of people,” I agree, and an idea pops into my head. “Would you like to meet them?”
“Umm…excuse me?”
“My parents’ anniversary is coming up in a few weeks and they’re going to have a little dinner celebration. I’ll be traveling home for it. I’d love to take you as my plus-one.” I hop out of my seat and begin pacing with a surge of energy. I don’t know why I never thought of this before. Having Gabby by my side will make the trip so much more enjoyable.
“Well, I’d have to check my schedule.” She fidgets with her hands.
“Of course.” Hope blooms in my chest. The more I think about Gabby coming with me, the more excited I am to go.
“And this is strictly just as friends, right? No strings attached? You’re not going to say we need to get married because you introduced me to your family?”
“Nope.” I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on the heel of my sneakers. “It has come to my attention that I’ve been a little too…persistent and I need to tone it down on the proposals.”
“You’re just realizing this?” She crosses her arms across her chest.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little thick-headed.” I grin. “Interpret that however you want.”
“I appreciate you leaving that up to my imagination.” Her washing machine buzzes, signaling the end of the cycle. She stands and walks over to it.
“So what do you say? The three-hour drive is so boring alone. We can load up on snacks, and I’ll even let you be in charge of the music for the whole ride.” I flash my signature smile, hoping to win her over.
“Quit it.” She fights to keep a straight face. “You know those dimples have no power over me.”
“If they have no power over you, why do you want me to stop?” I ham it up even more.
“Okay, fine. I’ll go with you.” Her face flushes ever so slightly. “As long as I can fit it into my schedule.”
“Absolutely. I understand that.” I try not to act overly excited.
She gets up and begins switching her wet laundry over to the dryer and lets out a sigh. “This is one thing on my wish list if I ever get a place of my own.”
“Your own washer and dryer?”
“Mm-hmm. When I was little, I thought owning your own washer and dryer was a symbol of being rich.”
“When I was little, I thought having a refrigerator with your own ice maker made you rich.” I chuckle. “I thought we won the lottery when we finally got one. My parents had to put a limit on how many times a day I used it. I had cups of ice everywhere.”
“That’s cute.” She presses some settings on the dryer .
“So tell me, what else is on this wish list of yours?” I lean myself against a large table used for folding and sorting.
“Umm…” She hesitates for a moment. “I don’t need much. I’m not one for fancy things. But eventually, I’d like to save up some money for a little house, preferably with a cozy reading nook and shelves for all my books. I’d also love to have a yard for some gardening.”
“You like to garden?”
“Yup. But not flowers, like herbs and vegetables.”
There’s that no-flowers thing again. Interesting.
“Have you ever had a meal made with fresh herbs and vegetables picked straight from the garden?” she asks before I can question about her aversion to flowers.
“I don’t think I have.”
“Oh, it’s so much better than the stuff you get at the grocery store.” Her face lights up with joy. “Growing up, my parents had a little garden on our balcony. We—” She abruptly stops, and the brief sense of happiness fades.
“You what?” I prod, realizing that she’s never really talked to me about her past.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head vigorously. “So, what date do I need to have off for this party?”
And just like that, Gabby shuts me down and changes the subject…like always, and I am dying to find out why.