eyes searching mine as he pulls back the ESP that comes so easily. “I could be distracted with a cookie, you know,” he says finally, and I grin.
“Wow, you’re easy. I was thinking it would take a kiss, at least.”
He grabs for me, but I’m too quick, twisting away from his reach and skirting the table to run into the kitchen, laughing.
“Oh my God, do you mind?” Robin yells, and I hear Mom’s voice next, too stern and quiet to make out.
Gabriel follows me into the kitchen, and I swing the door shut behind him, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss him. I can’t believe it was so easy to distract him, not when he’s the one who’s usually the worrier. And whatever happened last night seems distant now, with everything else on my mind. Anyway, that’s not going to happen here in my kitchen, with my family in the next room.
I hope.
And it doesn’t. It’s just a normal kiss, which is awesome, especially when Gabriel fastens his hands on my hips to pull me a little closer. His mouth is still cold, but it’s firm and a little demanding against mine, and he tastes like dark coffee. If I wasn’t completely awake before, squinting at the computer screen, I am now.
“Hi there,” I say when we break apart, and I actually have my breath back.
“Hi.” He leans his forehead against mine before kissing the tip of my nose, and then steps back to take his coat off. “Now give me my cookie.”
I laugh and turn around to get one from the cooling racks on the counter, but I know Danny would have questioned me. Danny would have called the house phone, all “Dude, where are you?” Because there was nothing he didn’t expect to know about me, or for me to tell him, even if he had no idea how many secrets I kept.
Gabriel never pushes, not really. Not when it comes to this thing between us. And I can’t help wondering if it’s because he doesn’t want me to push back and ask him questions he doesn’t want to answer.
I hand him one of each cookie, and he licks his lips. “No one’ll notice if I take, like, a dozen home, right?”
“Try it and watch Robin attack,” I say, and clear the empty pizza box off the kitchen table so we can sit down. “How was work?”
“Not as busy as Sheila wanted, I think.” He pulls out the chair beside me, and leans in to kiss me again, a quick, sugary peck. “I guess the latest collection of horror stories doesn’t really say ‘Peace on earth, good will to men.’”
“Yeah.” I lay my head on his shoulder, and swing one leg over his until we’re all mixed up together.
“We should probably talk, you know,” he says quietly, and for a moment I think he’s poking into my head again before I realize he means about last night.
I sit up, but he keeps his hand on my knee, so I leave my leg where it is. “There’s nothing to say. Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out. And in the meantime, I don’t think it’s . . . dangerous.”
Even I can hear how hopeful I sound. Because what do I know, really? We could go up in flames the next time we’re making out, and based on last night, neither one of us would probably care.
“Don’t you want to know what it means?” His voice is carefully even.
For a second I want to let loose, just shout at him. About how there are a lot of things I want to know, starting with all the things he never talks about. Do I want to know what it means when I kiss him and it feels like we’re both turning into molten gold, melding together hot and smooth? Of course I do, since I’m not a complete idiot.
But what I want to know most is how he can stay so composed, so . . . grown-up, almost, when any other boy would let it rip, at least once in a while. And I want to know what made him so guarded, so reserved, that he clams up even when I can tell he doesn’t want to.
“Look,” I say instead, after taking a deep breath. “We have exams this week. I have to work tomorrow. It’s not like we’re going to have a whole lot of time
“Wow, you’re easy. I was thinking it would take a kiss, at least.”
He grabs for me, but I’m too quick, twisting away from his reach and skirting the table to run into the kitchen, laughing.
“Oh my God, do you mind?” Robin yells, and I hear Mom’s voice next, too stern and quiet to make out.
Gabriel follows me into the kitchen, and I swing the door shut behind him, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss him. I can’t believe it was so easy to distract him, not when he’s the one who’s usually the worrier. And whatever happened last night seems distant now, with everything else on my mind. Anyway, that’s not going to happen here in my kitchen, with my family in the next room.
I hope.
And it doesn’t. It’s just a normal kiss, which is awesome, especially when Gabriel fastens his hands on my hips to pull me a little closer. His mouth is still cold, but it’s firm and a little demanding against mine, and he tastes like dark coffee. If I wasn’t completely awake before, squinting at the computer screen, I am now.
“Hi there,” I say when we break apart, and I actually have my breath back.
“Hi.” He leans his forehead against mine before kissing the tip of my nose, and then steps back to take his coat off. “Now give me my cookie.”
I laugh and turn around to get one from the cooling racks on the counter, but I know Danny would have questioned me. Danny would have called the house phone, all “Dude, where are you?” Because there was nothing he didn’t expect to know about me, or for me to tell him, even if he had no idea how many secrets I kept.
Gabriel never pushes, not really. Not when it comes to this thing between us. And I can’t help wondering if it’s because he doesn’t want me to push back and ask him questions he doesn’t want to answer.
I hand him one of each cookie, and he licks his lips. “No one’ll notice if I take, like, a dozen home, right?”
“Try it and watch Robin attack,” I say, and clear the empty pizza box off the kitchen table so we can sit down. “How was work?”
“Not as busy as Sheila wanted, I think.” He pulls out the chair beside me, and leans in to kiss me again, a quick, sugary peck. “I guess the latest collection of horror stories doesn’t really say ‘Peace on earth, good will to men.’”
“Yeah.” I lay my head on his shoulder, and swing one leg over his until we’re all mixed up together.
“We should probably talk, you know,” he says quietly, and for a moment I think he’s poking into my head again before I realize he means about last night.
I sit up, but he keeps his hand on my knee, so I leave my leg where it is. “There’s nothing to say. Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out. And in the meantime, I don’t think it’s . . . dangerous.”
Even I can hear how hopeful I sound. Because what do I know, really? We could go up in flames the next time we’re making out, and based on last night, neither one of us would probably care.
“Don’t you want to know what it means?” His voice is carefully even.
For a second I want to let loose, just shout at him. About how there are a lot of things I want to know, starting with all the things he never talks about. Do I want to know what it means when I kiss him and it feels like we’re both turning into molten gold, melding together hot and smooth? Of course I do, since I’m not a complete idiot.
But what I want to know most is how he can stay so composed, so . . . grown-up, almost, when any other boy would let it rip, at least once in a while. And I want to know what made him so guarded, so reserved, that he clams up even when I can tell he doesn’t want to.
“Look,” I say instead, after taking a deep breath. “We have exams this week. I have to work tomorrow. It’s not like we’re going to have a whole lot of time
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