CHAPTER 32
Teaching A Lesson
Gabriela
After the auction came to an end, I was ready to call it a night and head home with Hunter. But we lingered a little longer, talking with our friends by the bar and trying to pretend like we weren’t moments away from tearing the clothes off one another.
The energy between us crackled with tension. It was nearly tangible. I could practically feel its tendrils weaving themselves around every muscle and bone until I reverberated with need like the plucked strings of a guitar.
I wanted Hunter so bad that every fiber of my being ached.
He evoked a fever within me and the only remedy was his touch.
I felt like Hero from the painting, hooked with breathless anticipation by her tower’s window as she waited for Leander. Counting down the minutes till she could take him into her arms and lose herself in the throes of their passion.
God, he looked so fucking good in that tux, with his black hair tousled and his mouth tainted just the barest hint of red from my lipstick. I branded him so everyone in our vicinity knew he was mine to kiss, mine to touch, and soon, mine to fuck all night long.
“Gabby?” Hunter hushed in my ear, the breath fanning across my cheek almost causing my knees to buckle with the weight of desire pressing onto me.
We’d barely touched in any sort of sexual manner, save for trading some sweet kisses throughout the night, and I was ticking like a bomb.
Ready to explode at the mere scent of his delicious cologne ribboning around me, at the faintest rasp of his stubble against my skin, at the way he uttered my name like a filthy caress.
The fact that he bought me all the items I requested from the auction in that confident, I’ll-cater-to-all-your-demands type of way was just the cherry on top of the cake. I appreciated that he went the extra mile for me, namely to procure that stunning painting.
What affected me most wasn’t that he fulfilled my materialistic wishes, but rather the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. It seemed that my happiness was his happiness too.
“Yes, Hunt?” I glanced up at him with a soft smile, loving the way his eyes flared and washed over my face in an awestruck manner. Like he couldn’t believe I was real. Like he could stare at me all day, all night, and still not have his fill.
How many women were recipients of such a look? I’d never been until Hunter, and I considered myself fortunate to experience this kind of veneration. It was lovely and heart-warming, but on a deeper level? It altered me in a cosmic way.
“You’ve been awfully quiet.” He curved an arm around my waist and dragged me closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”
I’d zoned out momentarily, withdrawing from the conversation circling in our group as I daydreamed about Hunter. “You.”
He grinned. “Yeah?”
“Mhm. I’m thinking about all the things you bought me, including where I’m going to hang the painting.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“Either the wall above my bed or in my spare room.” I tilted my head, thinking. “Except the latter is a bit of a mess. Maybe once I clean it up and turn it into a proper home office, I could potentially place it there.”
My voice rose a fraction towards the end of my sentence and Dacia heard the last bit of our exchange.
Her head swivelled in our direction and determination crossed my friend’s face.
“Speaking of the painting,” Dacia started matter-of-factly, pushing her blond hair behind her shoulder. “How much do you want for it?”
The question was aimed at Hunter. “Pardon me?”
“A hundred thousand?” she spurred on, waving her hand flippantly in the air, the impressive carats on her diamond rings catching the light. “A quarter million? Name your price.”
My brows hiked up. Dacia was a lover of arts, a collector of sorts. But I didn’t realize she wanted the painting badly enough that she’d be willing to fork out such capital.
Did it also have a significant meaning to her?
I noticed she hadn’t bid on anything else during the auction.
Yet the second the Hero and Leander painting was revealed, she picked up her paddle with a vengeance.
I almost asked her if there was a particular reason why she gravitated towards that art piece.
If it was truly important to her, I’d ask Hunter to relinquish our purchase and give it to Dacia for the same amount he bought it for.
I didn’t have a chance to say anything because Hunter chuckled and shook his head. “Absolutely nothing, Dacia. I’m not selling it to you.”
Something akin to resignation flashed over her features. “Is there no way I can change your mind?”
“No. The painting means something special to me—to us.” He glanced at me pointedly. “I can’t give it to you.”
She shrugged and sipped her drink to show her unaffectedness. “All right. That’s fair.”
Cade and Shaun called Hunter over, where they languidly leaned against the bar.
Franco was working the other side of the bar, but his attention kept jerking towards us as he prepared drinks.
The unhealed version of me would have probably done something petty.
Make out with Hunter in front of him so he’d have a direct view of the show.
Insult him like he’d insulted me all those years ago.
Or even ask him if he’d ever gotten all the pink glitter out of his Camry.
Yet the version that was slowly healing didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I was ignoring him. Not because I wanted to pretend like our past never occurred, but because Franco Morelli simply wasn’t worth it.
“I’ll be back.” Hunter dropped a chaste kiss on my temple. “I’m going to speak with them for a bit, and then we’ll leave.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, baby.”
Hunter walked away, leaving me with the girls. In the middle of chatting about the upcoming Halloween party, I noticed that Dacia was a bit disconnected. As if her mind had wandered elsewhere.
I slid closer to her, taking a swig from my champagne flute. Not wanting to be the reason for the damper in Dacia’s mood, I felt called to explain to her why the painting meant so much to Hunter and me. My soft heart couldn’t stand seeing the people I cared for being upset in any capacity.
“Before Hunter and I officially got together,” I began and Dacia’s eyes veered my way, holding, “he took me on a date—but at that time I didn’t realize it was actually a date, though that’s beside the point—and we stargazed for the first time and saw the constellation Pegasus.
Since he has an interest in Greek mythology, I asked him to tell me a story—whichever one he wanted to share—and he told me the tragic tale of Hero and Leander.
When I saw the painting at the auction, it felt symbolic.
That’s why I wanted it. Something tangible that represented a small slice of our relationship. ”
Dacia smiled with understanding. “That’s really sweet, Gabby.”
I was glad she thought so. Still, I added, “But if the painting has any sort of importance to you, please tell me, and I’ll let Hunter know.”
Maybe she knew the artist. Maybe she was an avid collector of their work.
There was something wistful in her expression. “It’s of no importance to me. I thought it was pretty and wanted to add it to my collection. That’s all.” She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “You deserve to have it. Especially given the reasoning behind it.”
The event dwindled down and the girls ended up leaving before midnight, Cade and Shaun in tow.
Hunter was engaged in a conversation with one of his dad’s old friends and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I texted him that I was headed for the washroom. I wanted to freshen up and reapply my lipstick.
When I finished and stepped out into the empty hallway, secluded and far away from the banquet hall…a surprise awaited me.
It caught me so off guard that for a moment, I just stood there.
Completely shocked.
Franco pinned me with perplexed brown eyes, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black pants. “Hey, Gabby.”
I blinked. Is this really happening?
“Can we talk?”
I almost gawked at him. It definitely wasn’t my imagination. He really stood before me, his voice loud and clear.
Somewhere between then and now, Franco must have gone nuts if he thought I would actually speak to him after all this time. Fucking twat.
I squished down the old memories trying to burst free from the figurative box I shoved them into all those years ago.
I hated how he appeared so blasé. He tore me to shreds and stomped on my teenage heart until it was a pulverized mess.
He barely had the decency to treat me with respect when I’d been his good childhood friend before becoming his girlfriend, and that should have counted for something.
So how dare he speak to me like he had any right?
I’d always deserved better than him.
Gritting my teeth, I side-stepped my ex-boyfriend, hell-bent on continuing to pretend like he didn’t exist.
Franco’s hand shot out to grab my wrist, halting me.
I bristled and tried tugging my arm free. “Let go of me, Franco.”
He yanked me towards him.
This was the closest we’d been in three years. And my heart began to beat fast, not in a I-have-butterflies-in-my-stomach manner, but more in a get-me-the-hell-away-from-this-asshole.
“You’re not going anywhere until you hear what I have to say,” he clipped. “I’ve had three years to think about what happened between us, three years to—”
“Franco, respectfully, shut the fuck up,” I growled. “Even the sound of your voice is grating. I’m literally developing hives as you speak. Let. Me. Go.”
“Fuck, Gabriela!” he whisper-shouted, attempting to keep his voice down so no one witnessed his clown behaviour, but failing regardless. “I just want to say—”
“What part of you thinks you deserve to be heard after everything that transpired between us, stronzo?” I snarled, finally managing to tug my arm free. But now it hurt from the force of his hold. “We said all that needed to be said three years ago. Now fucking get lost!”