Page 106 of It Couldn't Be You
We held hands the entire drive home. My eyes were closed, I was almost asleep, but this moment felt kind of like a dream.
We got back to our hotel and started to rush, realizing the sun would soon be setting, and I still had a walking trail I wanted to visit.
We went to our separate rooms to change since the temperatures dropped later in the day. I put on a bulky, soft pink sweater and slipped on some comfortable sandals. I pulled my hair into a loose braid, down my shoulder.
I was drinking a lot of water and snacking after a day in the sun, drinking wine. Gabriel was waiting outside my door. His curls were loose, his eyes bright. All attempts to sober up felt pointless. I was sober, sure, but as we held hands down the hallway, looking at each other and laughing at a secret just between us. We were hopelessly drunk on the escalating feelings.
A car picked us up and cruised down the coastline until we hit the Fiscalini Ranch Preserve. We walked up the wooden steps and deck that led us to the walking path weaving along the coastline. Tall grass and succulents were afoot. Waves crashed out below. Gabe kept tossing my braid the way he did when we were in elementary school.
“Hey,” he said as we walked along the path. “Let’s cut through the grass. Do you see there’s some worn paths from people walking out? Let’s get closer to the edge. You could get some great photos of the sunset over the cliffs at golden hour.”
“Good idea,” I said. I had been so distracted by his presence that, for a moment, I had forgotten this was a work trip.
We walked further out until we could see the wild waves against the cliffside. Gabriel helped me take pictures with my new camera. I took notes on my phone as he gave me tips. Then he grabbed the camera from my hands.
“Look out at the view,” he said, taking a few steps back. “I want to get a picture of the beautiful writer.” He aimed the camera at me. My cheeks flushed at his words, my chest tightened.
I shook my head, “no,” but he started clicking anyway.
I turned toward the coast line, my back to Gabriel, watching the golden thread over the sea as the sun disappeared. The rosy and peony pinks in the sky. I let myself forget anything but the endless sea before me, the smallness of this moment, the enormity of the sky. Gabriel came up beside me, dropped the camera back in my bag, and weaved his warm arm around my waist.
I realized at that moment that I had always thought my crush on Gabriel was so much bigger and more consuming when I was younger. That I could potentially grow out of these feelings like a pair of shoes that weren’t the right size anymore. I had been lying to myself. Minimizing it so I could do things like fall for Jordan and endure living separate lives. But my feelings were stronger than ever. This realization took the breath right out of me.
To distract myself from these thoughts, these feelings, I dug the camera from my bag to see the photos he’d captured of me.
“The writer, always in her thoughts,” he whispered over my shoulder as I scrolled through the photos. His fingers resting on my hip.
I turned my head and looked up at him, and he said, “Always beautiful.” His eyes dropped to my lips.
I forgot about the lines I shouldn’t cross, the need to just be closer to him pounded in my veins silencing everything else. Now his eyes were on me like a question, and I knew the answer. I slipped my camera back into my bag, then lifted my fingers to his curly hair, pulling his lips to mine. And just like that, we were kissing.
He wrapped his arms around me, pressing me against him. The two of us took turns pulling each other closer. Urgent, hungry kisses, after all this time. Finally, finally.
I heard footsteps and pulled away for a second to see a scruffy little puppy running toward us, his owner looking mortified as she chased after him.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt. Oh my goodness, so sorry! Come on, Mr. Flufferson,” she said, her face all red and worried, as we told her not to worry about it. She grabbed her dog and then darted off.
I looked back up at Gabriel for a second from my spot in his arms. We were both grinning. I buried my head into his chest in giggles.
He whispered into my hair, “It feels so good to finally hold you close like this.”
It feels so right,I thought to myself. Two magnets making contact.
I stayed in his arms, my face in his chest taking in his scent, feeling him breathe until I realized it was pitch dark around us. We stumbled along the trail back home, pointing up to the starry sky, stopping to kiss and pull each other closer—intoxicated by each other.
We stopped at a restaurant downtown that looked like a cozy cottage with a fireplace crackling inside.
“So good,” I’d said about the food, although I barely even tasted the salmon salad I ordered. I was too jumpy and excited as Gabriel and I kept holding hands and kicking feet under the table.
“Why are you so cute?” he asked me randomly.
I stole a bite of his pork tenderloin and olallieberry marmalade just because I could. The waiter told me they were known for those berries in Cambria.
“I like to see you working,” he mused. “I want to see all your notes and pictures later. I’m excited to see you typing away.”
“I do that alone in bed,” I said. “I can’t write with someone over my shoulder.”
“Even me?” He leaned closer.
