Page 87 of Vicious Temptation

Gabriel opens the passenger’s side door for me, along with the back door, and I glance at him uncertainly as Cecelia and Danny slide into the back. “Shouldn’t I be back there with them?” I murmur, and Gabriel shakes his head.

“I don’t want to feel like a chauffeur.” He grins at me, and I let out a quick breath, sliding into the passenger’s side.

It feels intimate. Like I’m his girlfriend, out on a date with him and his children. I push down the confused, muddled feelings in my chest, focusing on not accidentally doing anything that will give us away. At least once, I see Gabriel’s hand twitch on his leg, as if he’s holding himself back from touching mine.

“I’m teaching Bella how to drive this,” Gabriel says with a grin, glancing back at Cecelia and Danny. “She’s pretty good.”

“I’ve had one lesson.” I laugh. “And I’m really not.”

“You’ll have more.” He glances at me, still grinning. “And then you will be.”

“I can’t wait to learn to drive,” Cecelia sighs in the back, but I don’t hear Gabriel’s response. I can’t think about anything other than quelling the warm, soft feeling that spreads through my chest at that—at the way he said it, the certainty that I’ll be here.

What is that going to look like, when things end between him and I?

I can’t think about it. I can’t let myself think about the end. And I don’t want to. Not when it all feels so good, right now—not when, for the first time in my life, I feel like I can be completely myself, and hold nothing back.

The day is perfect. We go shopping first, and my heart melts a little more when I see how thoroughly Gabriel immerses himself in his children’s interests. He lets Cecelia lead him around the American Girl store for close to an hour without complaint, as she explains all of the dolls’ stories and which she likes the best and why. Danny wants to go to a comic book store afterward, and Gabriel gives him the same attention, listening intently as Danny talks about Batman and his favorite X-Men—and the ones he doesn’t like. There’s no impatience, no checking the time or looking at his phone, and I realize that this is just who Gabriel is. A good, patient man, who is there fully for the people he cares about.

And, regardless of how this ends, I realize—I’m one of those people. I have been, since the moment I careened into him in that hallway, and he made it his mission to rescue me from whatever arrangement my father was trying to set up.

We get lunch at the burger place afterward, with Gabriel declaring it an excellent choice. His gaze strays towards me over and over, throughout the afternoon, but he’s careful not to do anything that would make it seem like we’re anything other than friends. Until we’re at the art museum, and I’m staring up at a Van Gogh piece as Cecelia leads Danny to the other side of the room to explain to him, in great detail, what she learned about Starry Night in one of her classes earlier that year.

Gabriel’s hand touches my back, lightly, and I flinch—but not for the reason I used to. “They’ll see,” I whisper, without looking at him, and he chuckles.

He leans in, ever so briefly, and brushes his lips over my neck. The touch heats my entire body, making me shiver, and his hand flattens against my lower back for just a moment before he pulls away.

“Cecelia notices nothing when she’s lecturing,” he says with a laugh. “She’s going to make a great professor someday.”

I can’t help but smile. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“It’s so hard not to touch you,” Gabriel murmurs, dropping his voice low enough that no one can hear. “Now that I can, it’s all I want to do.”

It feels like a confession, and I turn to look at him, my pulse speeding up in my throat. His face is carefully blank, giving away nothing, and I remind myself that it is nothing. Just honesty, about how he’s feeling in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything about the future.

Cecelia, calling out for Gabriel to come look at something louder than she should in the middle of a museum, saves me from having to say anything in response. But I see the way Gabriel’s eyes linger on me, just a beat longer than they should.

We walk around the museum until nearly five, and then Gabriel takes us to a Michelin-starred Italian restaurant for dinner. It only occurs to me then to be nervous about my clothing, thinking about sitting in a restaurant full of people. I rub my arms as we get out of the car, a prickle of fear running up and down my spine. Before I can think of what to do about it, I feel fabric sliding over my shoulders, and I realize that Gabriel is helping me put my jacket on.

“I’m right here,” he says, softly enough for only me to hear, and that warm feeling spreads through me again as I slip my arms into the jacket sleeves.

He saw me, and knew. That was all it took. I feel a burn behind my eyelids, and push it away before I can start to tear up on the way into dinner.

We’re taken back to a booth near the back of the restaurant. Gabriel orders a cocktail, and I do too—a gin and lavender drink that sounds interesting. Cecelia pushes her menu towards me.

“The squid ink pasta sounds weird,” she says, pointing at it. “But I wanna know what it tastes like.”

“What would you normally order?” I glance over the menu, and she frowns.

“Bolognese.”

“Well, what about this? I’ll order the bolognese, and you order the squid ink pasta, and if you don’t like it, we’ll switch.”

Cecelia nods eagerly, just as the server brings us our drinks, and a loaf of bread with herbed olive oil. I look up, and the expression on Gabriel’s face as he looks at me and Cecelia makes my heart skip a beat in my chest.

It’s a look that I can’t put a name to, because if I do, it will shatter this carefully constructed thing between us, and turn it into something it was never meant to be.

I’m answering a question Cecelia is asking me as the server takes our orders, and I don’t hear what Gabriel says, or that it’s my turn next. I’m brought back into the conversation by Gabriel saying: “And she’ll have the veal bolognese,” and a moment later, the server answering with a smile.

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