Page 37 of Far From Center
“Four?Four?” Gabriel glared at her.
She squirmed, willing the elevator to hurry up. “Eight. It’s really not that many. And ‘bang and leave’ is a gross exaggeration. I dated every one of those guys, calling it quits after a few months when it was clear that things weren’t going to work out long-term.”
They got into the elevator, Gabriel punching the number three with such violence that Nyalla feared the button might break. “Eight. You’ve had sex with eight people.”
He made it sound as if she were a tramp. “Yes. And since we’re sharing here, how many sexual encounters haveyouhad?”
“None.” His voice was smug. “There are very good reasons we’re forbidden from having physical relations with humans, and I’ve never stooped to manifesting physical form and having sexual intercourse with another angel.”
“I don’t mean that, I mean angel-sex. That joining thing you do. Sam told me about it, and as far as I’m concerned it’s the same thing as we humans do. How many angels have you joined with?”
Gabe punched the three twice more, glaring at the button. “That’s not something I’m going to share with you.”
“Oh really? I open up to you about my experience as a slave, I tell you how many people I’ve had sex with, but when it’s me asking the questions, it’s none of my business. That’s not a friendship, Gabe. That’s one-sided phoo-hockey. I’m not friends with people who do that.”
Something that looked an awful lot like fear skittered across his face. “That’s not fair, Nyalla. The sex humans have isn’t the same as our joining. Ours is a holy union. There’s something deep that happens when we join. It transcends the flesh, involving only the purity of our spirit-beings.”
“Phoo-hockey. Don’t give me this ‘purity of the spirit’ nonsense, Gabe, because I’m not having it. Just because you’re a being of spirit and I’m a being of flesh doesn’t mean your ways of establishing and affirming an emotional connection are superior to ours in any way.”
The doors of the elevator opened and Nyalla stomped out, Gabe keeping pace beside her. “And you’re going to tell me you had a deep, abiding, emotional connection with every one of those eight men? Every one?”
“No. Maybe at first.” She dug into her bag, trying to find the room key. “I’m seeking a permanent, deep abiding emotional connection. I just haven’t found it yet. Those relationships… I’d hoped they’d be something, but they weren’t. That’s how it is with humans. It sometimes takes a while to find the right person. It sometimes takes a lifetime.”
“So you plan on having sex with every guy you meet until you happen to come across the right one? Why don’t you decide if they’re the right onebeforehaving sex?”
Nyalla winced at his sharp tone. “Maybe not for everyone, but for me, sex is part of finding out if they’re the right one. And I’m done talking about this.” She yanked the key card from her purse, swiping it and storming into the room, not caring if he followed her or not. “Go to bed. I’m going to sit out on the porch and read.”
“Maybe I’ll read, too–”
“No,” she snapped. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want you in the same room as me right now. Go to bed and leave me alone.”
Nyalla threw her bag across the room and onto the couch, then went through the books on the table, trying to find one with more violence and less romance — hopefully one where the heroine stabbed the hero a few times. The whole time she was painfully conscious of Gabe hovering near, not going into the bedroom as she’d demanded, but obviously not daring to touch her or even straighten up the mess of books she was tossing to the side.
Finally, she just grabbed one, realizing too late that it was the emotionally damaged hockey player/plucky reporter romance that Gabe had been reading earlier today. It would have to do.
“Go to bed,” she stated once more. Then she spun around and went onto the balcony, closing the door with a click behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gabe standing right where she’d left him. He stood there until she had sat and opened her book, then slowly he turned around and walked into the bedroom.
The pages blurred before her, but Nyalla blinked them back and bit her lip to steady it. She was angry and sad all at the same time, her chest hurting in a way that it never had before. Even if she ended up not reading one word on one page, they both needed this space between them before they said things they regret.
It still didn’t keep her from wanting to go back inside, storm into the bedroom and kiss some sense into that stubborn angel.
