Page 31 of The Nephilim's Touch
“Gabe isn’t a fool.”
No. But You Are.
“Oh, be quiet.” I slump into the recliner opposite the couch and stare at the book. “What do you know about anything?”
Too Much.
I scratch at my jaw. Why the fuck am I arguing with a book of all things?
You Don’t Need Me. But Gabe Does Unless You Know Anything About Being A Nephilim?
“I do not.”
Then Let Him Lead You On Your Path To Bettering Yourself. He’ll Be Better Than Me.
I nod. “You’re probably right.” I know the book’s right. Gabe is kind and if I just pay attention, I know it’ll rub off on me. “Sorry for being a dick. You’re probably a good book.”
I’m Good For Whoever Needs Me And You Do Not.
Rejected by books and nearly everyone else because of my attitude. But not by Gabe.
Do Not Get Melancholy. Shoulders Back. You Are A Demon.
“Damn right I am.”
I’m staring at the ceiling when Gabe comes out, rubbing his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asks.
“Contemplating life.”
He sits next to me. “It’s all complicated some days, isn’t it?” His fingers thread into mine and he squeezes.
“It really is.” More complicated since Gabe came into my life because he shakes everything up. “Are you feeling better?” I bump him softly with my shoulder.
“Yep, good as new. I just need a little bit of something in my stomach and I’ll be even better.” He puffs out his chest and smiles so damn brightly I believe him.
“Go wash off the afternoon and I’ll make something from your fridge.” I can be good for Gabe. Take care of him. Just knowing him makes me want to be a better person. Doesn’t hurt that we’ve had bedroom relations.
“Sounds good. Just a sandwich, maybe?” Gabe pushes to his feet, and I head to the kitchen to investigate what he has.
It’s not much and I decide I need to figure out the food situation for him so he doesn’t have to. I make matching sandwiches from that first night, figuring he must like the kind of sandwich he gave me.
When Gabe joins me in the kitchen, he finally looks bright eyed and fresh faced as if the afternoon never happened. He’s even humming a happy little tune and talks to all his plants before he makes his way to the table.
“I haven’t talked to them today.” He grins, probably knowing I want to make some kind of silly remark about talking to plants. But… his plants make him so happy and I never want to be the one to steal the light from his eyes. I’d rather fall on a knife.
“Would you teach me about your plants? How to take care of them, what their names are? Everything?”
His mouth drops open mid-bite. “Really?” he whispers?
“Yeah, I want to help if I can.”
He drops the sandwich and pushes to his feet and walks over to the plastic gazebo. “These three?—”
“Gabe, you have to eat first and get ready for work. Your babies can be a project for me this week. But right now, food.” As I finish my words, his stomach growls and his face goes red.
“You’re right. I just got so excited because no oneeverwants to learn about my babies.”
“Well, I do.”
