Chapter 22
CECILIA
My days blur together, but this time, in a good way. Before, time dragged on. Every second felt like a minute as I’d sit in my room, begging for it all—time, the world, everything—to just to stop.
I’m not desperate for the day to end anymore.
I no longer dread each morning as it begins.
It’s such a mental mind shift, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.
I sorta forgot what it was like to… breathe, I guess.
Getting out of bed doesn’t feel like this herculean effort any more.
I have something to look forward to. Things I want to do.
Most days, I catch myself watching the clock, eager for the moments when my path and Gabriel’s cross.
I look forward to seeing him, which makes it hard to resent the fact he’s in two of my classes.
Though I try anyway. Can’t make it easy on him.
Do that and I may as well shout out loud that I condone his behavior.
His need to be with me all the time. To know what I’m doing and where I’m at.
Gabriel takes overprotectiveness to a whole new level, but he also makes life bearable.
Every morning, he greets me with a kiss on the cheek, and a can of Crush soda waits for me in the center of my desk.
And after I take my seat, without fail, he grabs the legs of my desk and chair and drags me closer to him until he can throw his arm around my shoulder, where it remains for the duration of class.
No matter where we’re at or what the situation is, Gabriel always makes contact.
His hand in mine. A hand on my thigh. His arm around my shoulder is the most common, but he always maintains physical contact between us somehow.
I keep waiting for this to get old. For him to forget about the soda or lose the motivation to drag over my chair, but two weeks into whatever this thing between us is, and he still does it. Every single day.
I already know I’ll be more than a little disappointed when it inevitably comes to an end.
“You studying in the library after class today?”
We’ve developed a routine. During the week, we see each other during the two classes we share, and we always meet up with the guys for lunch.
We usually stay on campus to save time before our next classes, but now and then, we go back to their place like we did before and Julio mans the grill while the rest of us hangout.
We’ve played cards a few times, which is fun, but usually we just sit around the table and talk about whatever is going on that day.
I’m the quiet one of the group, but Felix has made it his mission to pull me out of my shell.
I’d hate him for it if not for the fact I don’t even realize it’s happening.
It’s like he has strange voodoo powers that loosen my tongue and lull me into a false sense of familiarity. There’s no proper way to explain it.
If Julio is what I imagine a big brother would be like, Felix is that annoying younger one you give in to just to get them to leave you alone and go away. Though it is also endearing in a way.
“No. Not today. I have an appointment after my last class.”
The guys have practice every day of the week in the late afternoon and train most mornings and weekends.
Since Gabriel still refuses to let me head straight home, insisting I get out and people more, we’ve come up with a sort of compromise.
While he’s at practice, I go for a swim or hangout in the library and study or work on my homework.
The library has been my more frequent stop with preseason training for swim starting. The pool is a lot more crowded in the afternoon now until dinnertime, so I try to get my laps in then, once most of the team has called it quits for the night.
“What appointment?” he asks.
Our professor walks in, which should save me from answering, but Gabriel isn’t one to be deterred.
“It’s nothing. I’ll be busy for an hour and then you can go right back to hovering.”
He scowls. “I don’t hover.”
I rub the furrow between his brows with my thumb until his face relaxes. “Sure you don’t.”
Grumbling something incoherent under his breath, he plays with my hair for the rest of class while I try to wrap my head around our professor’s lecture. Fifty minutes later and with six pages of notes, my biggest takeaway from his lesson is, fuck the patriarchy.
I tell Gabriel and he laughs, tugging on my hair until I tilt up my chin. “Sounds like a plan, as long as I still get to kiss you.”
Leaning in, he does exactly that, only this time, it’s not a quick peck on the lips.
The bell rang a few minutes ago, and the class has mostly cleared out, but we’re not alone and our professor was most definitely still in the room.
Not that it deters Gabriel in the least. He cups the side of my neck and angles his head to deepen the kiss.
His tongue strokes against mine and he—or is it me? —groans.
Someone clears their throat. We ignore it. Whoever it is does it again, this time louder, and Gabriel reluctantly pulls away. I chase his lips before reigning myself in. Oops. Got a little carried away there.
Gabriel chuckles and, whispering against my hair, says, “I could kiss you all day.” Mmm. That sounds nice. “Want to let me?”
“Have a good day Mr. Herrera. Ms. Russo.”
“You too, Mr. Arndt.” I force out the words with fake enthusiasm. “See you tomorrow.”
Gabriel grabs my bag and, lacing his fingers with mine, leads the way out of class. “So, this appointment…”
“You won’t let this go, will you?”
He stops in the hallway and tugs me into his arms. “Nope.” Leaning in, he tugs on the neck of my oversized sweater before pressing his lips to my collarbone. The scruff on his jaw scrapes against my neck, causing me to shiver.
“What time is it at?”
I sigh as he kisses his way up my neck. “Two o’clock.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No.”
He kisses my cheek. My chin. “I’ll drive you.” He still hasn’t learned that repeating the same words twice won’t make them true.
“You have practice. Besides, I can drive myself to one stupid appointment.”
Gabriel draws back, a flash of concern washing over his face. “What’s the appointment for? Is everything okay?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
He’s not convinced. So much for privacy.
“It’s a therapy session. There. Happy?”
He considers me for a moment, mulling over how he wants to respond. I’m not sure the revelation that I go to therapy—albeit reluctantly—deserves this much consideration, so being the avoider that I am, I slip out from beneath his arm and head off for my next class.
As expected, Gabriel falls into step beside me, his longer stride slowing to keep pace with my shorter legs. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and takes back the lead. Boys. But, whatever. I can follow.
“Your next class is clear across campus,” I remind him, in case he’s forgotten.
If he doesn’t go now, he’s going to be late.
Not that I think cares. He has some film class, if I remember right.
Gabe calls it napping 101 since most of the movies he’s seen already, so he uses the time to catch up on sleep.
“You never mentioned going to therapy before.”
Great, so this is going to be a thing. “I didn’t realize you’d have an issue with it.
” Not that it matters. I give Gabriel a lot of leeway where he and I are concerned.
It's mostly because I don’t care enough to fight with him about it, but I never got the memo stating I had to inform him about meetings and appointments.
If I did, it would have made its way into the garbage.
He might drag me out of the house and sucker me into peopling more than I would on my own, but he doesn’t get to dictate every minute of my life.
“I don’t. I think it’s great you’re seeing someone.”
“You do?” It doesn’t sound like he does.
Gabriel bobs his head, but the tension is still there around his eyes and mouth. “Sure. I’m guessing it helps?” He shrugs, coming to another stop, this time a few doors down from my next class. “It’s good you’re talking to someone.”
I’m hearing his words, but they don’t match the look on his face. “Why are you lying?”
Guilt flickers across his gaze, and his eyes widen. “I’m not lying.” Yes, he is. One hundred percent this man is lying. Gabriel isn’t that hard to read if you know what to look for, and these past weeks, I’ve spent close to every waking hour either with him or near him.
I know when he’s lying. But this is such an insignificant thing to lie about. He’s not a fan of therapists. What’s the big deal?
“You are. It’s weird. Why are you being weird?” Usually, I’m the one acting strange. Which makes his behavior extra weird, but also kind of nice for a change.
“It’s nothing. Come on. Let’s get you to class before you’re late.” I’m not the one who needs to worry about tardiness.
Gabriel’s fingers skim across the waist of my jeans before hooking through one of the belt loops and tugging me forward. My skin heats at the contact, but he doesn’t notice. It’s his turn now to play the avoiding game.
“Nothing, like when you pushed me to tell you what my appointment was for?”
“Fair point.”
A smile spreads across my face. I know. It’s good he realizes it. Just beside the door, Gabriel pulls me to a stop.
“I think I’m jealous.”
That surprises me. “Jealous that I go to therapy?” How does that make sense?