Page 107 of It Couldn't Be You
“Especially you,” I said, taking a big bite. My hand was shaking. My chest was shaking. The way you do when you’re on the precipice of a big freaking deal.
Gabriel finished his food and asked me if I wanted to share dessert. I said, “yes,” but I mostly just wanted to be alone with him again. But sure, we could stay surrounded by people in this restaurant. I gave the waiter my plate. We both ordered hot coffees and shared a crème brûlée.
We are sharing a dessert, I thought, as we both dug our spoons in. Was this crossing a line? He told me I was cute. Was that crossing a line? We just made out. That wasdefinitelycrossing a line. What should I do about the stupid line? Could I just deal with it later? Eat the dessert. Kiss the man.
“God, this is really good,” he said, a mouthful of brûlée.
I almost said, “I wouldn’t know,” because I couldn’t taste the food. All my senses were focused on Gabriel Hernandez. I could feel every bump of his leg under the table. I was zeroed in on how his jaw moved as he ate, and I swear I could hear him lick his lips like it was right next to my ear.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, tipping his head in concern.
I want to climb over this table and kiss you again,I thought
“I think this coffee has me all wired,” I lied.
“Oh man,” he said. “It is strong.”
I nodded, scraping the plate for a last bite.
“Should we head back?” he asked.
We got the check and left.
I could barely breathe in the backseat of the car. I could smell his cologne. I could feel his heat. My breath was quick and reckless. I said nothing while he chatted with our driver. He was all cool as a cucumber, as if we kissed every single day, nothing new. As if we caught fire every single day, nothing new.
We walked down the hotel hallway, holding hands again, slow and awkward. Should we take our time? Should we rush ahead? What was the pace when you were falling down a precipice, free-falling into the treacherous, messy unknown? Then, we were in front of our doors.
“I guess…” I said, breathless, shakey.
He grabbed my other hand and pushed me against my door, his body crashing into mine, and he kissed me. He was almost lifting me as he pulled me closer. We kissed like that, needy, breathless, reckless, burning. People might’ve passed by. The concierge maybe heard us. I didn’t care. It was just us, for me. Our hips, our hands, our breath. Just Gabe pressing me between him and my door until I wondered if it’d collapse.
Finally, we stopped, and he leaned down to the spot between my ear and shoulder, saying, “I need to get a hold of myself.”I needed to get a hold of him.
“I think you’re perfectly fine,” I whispered.
We were still leaning against the door, catching our breath.
He started to hesitantly step back. “I’ll let you get back to work,” he said.
Before I had time to remember how to form sentences, he’d disappeared back into his room. I just about fell into my hotel room. I felt disoriented, nearly wasted on emotion and desire. I walked straight to the window and let the cold air hit me. I knew we were running on pure feelings. It was like we’d let our minds run the show for too long so our feelings had grabbed hold of the steering wheel.
I just wanted to hold on for dear life and make sure our feelings didn’t drive us over a cliff, drive us until we crashed and burned. But who was I kidding? We were already burning.
After a shower, I slipped into my cozy robe and curled up with my laptop to write. A message from Gabriel was on my screen, but I must’ve missed it.
Gabe
Are you okay?
I was more than okay. I was jittery and happy and blissful and scared and confused. Was I stupid? That was another question. But I was happily stupid. I didn’t want to lose whatever we had for however long we could have it.
Me
listen for the answer
I walked over to the wall and started playing “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer from my phone.
Gabe
