left again and headed for the grocery store next. One of the things I’d taken up in an attempt to feel closer to Stacy is vegetarianism. I couldn’t go vegan. It just wasn’t going to happen, and there was a rolling day each week when I cheated on being a vegetarian with bacon, but I was trying. I’d learned a recipe for a veggie ravioli from Molly, and I wanted to make it for Stacy. I’d dreamed of being able to show it to her at some point, but I’d never let it cross from a fleeting dream into something more real than that. I didn’t think I’d get the chance.
The hotel I’d asked her to meet me at was one my family had inroads in. It was, for all intents and purposes, one of our legal ventures. My father invested in hotels early, not to use for any illegal reason, but because there were times his family and business partners needed a private place to stay. Though the amount we’d used the hotels had died down in the past decade, we still knew who to call when we needed a room. They were full-fledged suites, like mini apartments, complete with a kitchen, so I had everything I needed to cook dinner.
I got to the hotel about thirty minutes early, which was just enough time to start dinner. I brought my bag to the luxurious bedroom, complete with a royal red and gold comforter and pillows nestled inside. I passed back through the living room to start a playlist of romantic music and set the lighting to a moody, middle setting that allowed the Philly skyline glowing in from the big bay window against the southern wall to light the room further. I walked into the kitchen next and set the wine I’d bought to chilling and then got started preparing the dough for the ravioli.
“Gabriel?”
The voice was like the chorus of a thousand beautiful melodies. I walked out of the kitchen into the entryway, and my heart leaped at the sight of Stacy standing before me after three long weeks. She looked unrealistic. She was wearing a green silk sundress with gold embossments all over it and gold roman sandals. Her hair was flowing down her head and washing over her shoulders like a beautiful, blond waterfall, at the crest of which was a crown of lime green mums held together by gold circlet. Even with the aggravated expression on her face, her nose wrinkled up and her eyebrows poking down, she was a sight for sore eyes.
“Who do you think you are, Gabriel Varasso?” she started the second she saw me. “You show up at my studio one day, take me out, sleep with me, call me nonstop, and then ghost me? Then I swallow my pride and reach out to you, and you reject me then text me to come and meet you? I’m not a ping-pong ball. If you want—”
It got too much to bear. Mid-sentence, I reached forward, slunk my hands along either side of her neck, and pulled her lips to mine. She tasted sweet, like a rare ice-cream. The tension she held when I first touched her loosened, and soon, she was slack in my grip. I couldn’t believe I had her in my arms again. I probably was dreaming, but if I was, I’d just try to stay asleep for as long as I could.
When we separated, finally, Stacy’s cheeks were light pink. I smiled down at her. “I have to keep rolling my ravioli, but if you want to keep yelling, that’s okay.” I didn’t care if she was yelling, talking, or singing as long as I could hear her voice.
I gripped her hand and pulled her with me into the kitchen and over to where I was rolling my dough. Stacy looked at it and let out a quiet gasp. “Are you rolling ravioli from scratch?”
I nodded. “It’s a recipe I learned from my sister-in-law. It’s vegetarian.” Stacy looked up at me, and her eyes shined while a smile grew on her face. “Wanna try?”
She nodded and quickly turned towards the sink to wash her hands. We spent the next couple of hours making and eventually eating our homemade meal. We were both careful not to travel towards a topic too serious, but I did mention that my brother’s wife was pregnant again, and she told me her parents were settling into Philly okay. I didn’t want to think about the clock ticking away at our time together, only about that moment with her.
When dinner was done, I took her over to the couch in the living room. It was fully night outside now, and the lights from the busy city outside lit up our room. I was staring happily at Stacy when her lips turned down into a frown.
I threaded a hand into her hair. “What?”
She leaned against my touch. “I’m having such a good time. This just feels right.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but then why do you look so sad?”
“Because this isn’t it,” Stacy explained. “When all I think about is being here with you and how strong things are between us, it’s great, but then I remember there’s a dark side to all of this that I’m avoiding. I don’t want to think about what it means.”
“Then don’t.” I slid closer to her on the couch. “Just think about this moment. Just think about me.” I pulled her against me, and she didn’t hesitate to push me backward onto the couch while my hands started to pull up the bottom of her dress.
14
Stacy
Gabriel asked me to just think about him, and I was content to do so. All roads that I had traveled down while trying to find the solution to our problem were cloudy and covered in obstacles, but when I thought about traveling down the only bright, sunny path that didn’t lead to Gabriel, I couldn’t even bring myself to take the first step. Those solutions that pulled me from Gabriel were out. I had to have him, so we’d just have to figure something out.
His hands traveled over the skin of my thighs as I journeyed along his lips with my own. My heart ricocheted in my chest with his smell wrapping around me. I didn’t realize how much I’d longed for his return until he was under me again. He was a medicine I’d been failing to wean myself off of, and now my body was getting the taste of him again and remembering what it meant. It was already bending to him, folding against the curves in his body as he stretched to claw my dress off of me. Wherever he went, I followed on instinct, as if a glue was setting.
We fought for dominance, rolling around the chez couch we’d landed on. First, I was over him, dragging his shirt over his head and throwing it aside. Then, he was over me, using careful teeth to bite open my front-clasping bra. I was on him, unbuttoning his pants and discovering the hard length that awaited me there. Then, he was on me, linking his fingers into the edges of my underwear and pulling them free.
When his tongue returned to the intimate place that it had been once before, I let out a breathy gasp. My back arched against my will as pleasure skittered all over me, painting me in chills. My fingers crawled into his soft curls and took hold. It wasn’t just a reaction to the waves of electricity. It was a hope that I could hang on to him. If my hands were always on him, he couldn’t slip away from me again.
When I demanded a turn, Gabriel didn’t deny me. We shifted until it was him on his back, and my head nestled between his legs. It was a taste of him that I didn’t get during our first time, and one I grew evermore addicted to with each starved suck. I got lost in the feeling of Gabriel, the soft grunts he made, and his gentle thrusts. I could have stayed that way for much longer than was healthy.
I’d have risked it if he would have let me, but he clawed at my shoulder, begging me to climb over him, and I did without complaint. He pushed into me, and it forced away any lingering thoughts that I would have to say goodbye again. I moved slowly, up and down, in and out, taking more and more until I was full and begging. Heat and sweat clasped around us, but we were undeterred. We were a torrent, swiping up everything in our path, and we were just beginning.
I threw my head back when the familiar swirl of release started at my toes and started to climb its way upward. Gabriel braced a hand on my chest as I rode my way through, only a string of white noise available to my ear while the heat in my groin pushed towards burning me. It was a dangerous burn, one I chased.
Gabriel lifted me, keeping us attached. I locked onto his lips and slicked my tongue into his mouth. He greeted me happily with his own, and we moved slowly as far as we could get before the passion took us again. He braced me against the door to the bedroom and held me aloft while he took me, this time at a rapid, more for
ceful pace. I had no qualms with the way my hips screamed out. They may hurt in the morning, but they’d ache with reminders of Gabriel, the best kind of pain.
When Gabriel hissed, “Fuck,” I linked my legs behind his back. I wanted everything he had to give me. I didn’t care what it was. I didn’t care about the consequences.
I wasn’t awarded for my efforts. Gabriel slowed his pace back to a meticulous, drawn-out grind. He cradled me against him again and carried me over to the bed, his original destination. I was guided down to my back, and against what I wanted, Gabriel released himself from me. I opened my mouth to protest but was met with Gabriel’s mouth against mine. He pulled away from me, and his dark eyes looked into mine with desperation.