Page 18 of A Lot Like Adiós
“You could’ve warned me about the light,” he said with a growl.
“I forgot. It’s been a long time since I had to sneak someone into this house.” She pointed at the mat just inside the door. “Shoes off. You know the rules.”
In the dim light permeating the windows, Gabe toed off his sneakers while Michelle slipped out of her sandals and slidon indoor chanclas. Something brushed Gabe’s ankle and he jumped as a dark shape appeared and began to sniff his shoes with gusto.
“That’s Jezebel,” Michelle said. “She’s hard to see in the dark.”
She moved to the light switch and turned it on, flooding the room with light. Gabe dropped to the floor like he was doing a push-up, and a sleek black cat he recognized from Michelle’s Instagram feed poked her nose—which had just been in his sneaker—into his face.
Michelle stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Close the curtains,” he hissed, annoyed at her surprised look. The cat—Jezebel—bumped her head against his temple, so he shifted to scratch her ears.
“Gabe, your mom isn’t going to look into the kitchen—”
“Yes, she is. She used to do it all the time. Close the fucking curtains!”
Michelle sighed but did as he asked. “Better?”
“No.” Gabe got up from the floor, breathing like he’d just run a five-minute mile. He couldn’t go through this every time he had to enter and leave the house. And he couldn’t stay locked inside either. He had meetings to attend and locations to look at—in Manhattan.
Michelle stood at the kitchen counter, watching him with a pensive expression. It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at her, head to toe. A familiar sense of desire rose up. He still wanted her, but mixed up in it was longing and anguish, anger and heartache. The strength of his feelings threatened to choke him.
He’d always thought she was pretty. When they were little,they’d had fun together, and that was enough. Her prettiness didn’t mean anything except that he’d adored the sight of her smile.
As they’d gotten older, they’d both changed, and his gaze started to linger on her in different ways. Their bodies had matured, and he no longer thought nothing of her easy touches, the way she leaned against him when they watched movies or sat on his lap when the bus was crowded. Back then, he thoughta lotabout those touches. And he’d eventually admitted to himself that he was in love with her, beyond friendship. He loved listening to her talk and watching her dance around her room when her favorite songs came on the radio. He loved arguing with her about movies and sharing food from the same plate.
He loved to see her smile.
She wasn’t smiling now, though.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, the words tumbling out before he could question whether or not they were wise.
Her gaze dropped to the counter. “It’s weird having you back here.”
Gabe looked around the kitchen he’d once known as well as his own. “It’s weird being back here.”
“I wondered if it would be like it used to be.”
“I don’t think we can go back to how it used to be.” He said the words gently, knowing they had the potential to hurt her. She was more emotionally fragile than she pretended to be. But to honor their friendship, he had to give her honesty. He wasn’t the same person he’d been then, and neither was she. They’d grown up. They couldn’t slip back into the easy camaraderie that came from seeing each other daily.
“I guess we can’t,” she murmured. Then she opened the fridge and waved him over. “Anyway, I made these for you.”
He stood next to her, trying to ignore the enticing woodsy fragrance that clung to her, and peered into the refrigerator.
On the main shelf, uniform stacks of Tupperware containers were piled four high. Michelle selected one and removed the lid. Scents of lemon and pepper wafted up to him. Inside the container, which was separated into two compartments, sat a baked chicken breast and a side medley of sauteed vegetables—zucchini, mushroom, and green pepper.
Gabe stilled. “What’s this?”
“Meal prep.” Michelle replaced the lid and put the container back in the fridge. “I figured you’re probably on some kind of bodybuilder diet, so I looked up food recommendations and portion sizes. Some blogs suggested a lot of lean proteins and veggies throughout the day, so I did some cooking in advance.”
A warm feeling spread through Gabe’s chest. “How did you know?”
She gave his torso and arms a pointed look. “Instagram.”
Of course.
“Anyway,” she continued, “we obviously don’t have a full gym, but there’s a weight bench and a couple machines downstairs.”
