A Lot Like Adiós (Primas of Power, #2)

by Alexis Daria

Gabe hadn’t been back to New York since his sister’s wedding nine years ago, where he and his parents had made a scene and his father had yelled “Don’t come back!” at his retreating form.

“We’re never going to move on until we get this out of the way.” And then she went up on tiptoe, leaning her body flush against his. Lowering her voice, she whispered in his ear, “Let’s fuck.”

“Gabriel Aguilar, do you mean to tell me we’re both bi?” He grinned. “Looks that way.”

At some point they’d started holding hands, like a real couple. He didn’t know how it had happened. Maybe she’d taken his hand to pull him toward an exhibit, or he’d reached for her so as not to lose her in the crowd. But then . . . they hadn’t let go.

“Why is everything ten times better with you?” he said softly, lifting a hand to brush her hair back from her temple. There was a note of wonder in his voice, in the light in his eyes. “Not just sex. Everything.”

Gabe’s heart stopped. This was it, this was the moment he died. In the condom aisle of a CVS, at the age of thirty-one, because his father had told him to practice safe sex.