Walking Red Flag (Ocean View #2)

by Morgan Elizabeth

“What kind of things do you want to do?” “Sex.” The word came out quick and embarrassed. “We’re not having sex.” Her face fell. “But… You made me… you know.” “I made you what?” I wanted to hear the words. “You made me… orgasm.” She said it in a quiet voice that took everything in me not to laugh at. “Yeah, and?” “My rule was I wouldn’t lose my virginity until a man made me come. I don’t want a shitty first time.” Her unbearably attractive confidence was back, the indignant voice in place, and all embarrassment gone as I leaned over and put my hand on her face. “Honored, kitten. Honored, I’m the man to do that. But I’m not fucking you until we’re good and ready. We’re going slow.” A part of me wondered why not. Why wouldn’t I just fuck her and get this bargain over with? The other part of me knows. I’m just not ready to admit it just yet. “But I want… sex.” “Good. You’ll get it. Just not tonight.” Her nose had scrunched in frustration. “You’ll get something tonight though. I promise I’ll make you feel good, Gabi,” I’d said, and her eyes flared with my words before returning to her food.

“Gabi.” Her eyes lift to mine. “What do you want to do tonight?” I wait, holding my breath to hear her response. I need her to guide this. “I want to see you come,” she says, and fuck if that, said in her breathy, nervous voice, isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Jesus. “I want to see you come too, Gabi. Been thinking about it since last week.” Her little hand moves, going straight for my dick, and it takes everything in me not to laugh at her eagerness. Even more, not to just let her. I don’t feel the urge to laugh because I’m making fun of her, but because I find so much fucking joy in her, in how excited she is for this. “No, no, no. That’s not how we’re playing this today.” “What?” “We’re doing this my way.” “Do I get to touch you this time?” I smile. “I would be devastated if you didn’t.” A small smile graces her lips as she reaches for me again. “No, kitten. Slow.” “I don’t want slow. I want distraction.” Warmth runs through me from knowing and understanding. She scared herself today; guilt ate at her even though everything was totally fine. She needs this. “I know, honey. You’ll get it. But slow.” “Why?” The hand on her hip moves up, dipping under her shirt, my thumb swiping left and right, left and right as it creeps up her smooth skin, lifting her shirt as I go. I’ve been dreaming about what her body looks like under her girly skirts and funky tops for weeks, months, if I’m being honest. “Well, for one, I fully plan on getting you naked today,” I say, and th...

“Jesus, Vic, this is too good.” My head pops up. “Oh, baby, I haven’t even gotten started. Wait until you see what else my mouth can do.

“You’re going to watch me while I eat your pussy and make you come on my face.” “Oh,” she says. “Yeah, oh.”

“Keep your eyes on me, Gabi. No matter what happens, you look at me. You feel what I’m doing to you. You start to drift, you tell me. We’ll work on it together.”

Never has eating a woman out been so unbearably exquisite. I need her to come on my face.

“How do you keep doing that?” She has no idea what she’s doing for my ego at this moment, “Learning your body, learning your cues. Taking my time. Add in some killer chemistry and a perfect student, and we’re combustible, baby.”

Something tells me that the only reason other men have failed when it comes to Gabi is that she enamors everyone she meets—there’s no way a man can get into a bed with Gabi, see all the beauty that she is, hear her words, feel her hands, and not lose his mind. But in order to handle this woman, you need to stay on earth, and you need to work to keep her here with you.

“Why do you call me that?” she asks, a whisper pulling me from my mental bubble. “What?” “Kitten. Why do you call me that?” “You are one.” “What?” Her hand stops. She’s losing it, losing focus. My hand goes back to hers, helping her but finishing her thought, so it doesn’t get stuck there, distracting her further. “You’re a kitten. Sweet, Cuddly. I want to protect you. But you pounce, and you have claws. Like to play.” I take a deep intake of air as she tightens, brushes her thumb over the head which has beaded with pre-cum. Her breath hitches in turn. “You’re a kitten, kitten.”

Because she is mine. For however long this thing lasts, Gabrielle Mancini is mine.

Well, you see, officer, I didn’t see that stop sign or your lights because all I could think about was my girlfriend, who isn’t really my girlfriend, but she sure as fuck feels like my girlfriend going on a date with another man. Something tells me that wouldn’t keep me out of handcuffs. Or maybe even a padded room.

She’s on a date. With a man who is not me. Potentially with a phone that’s off.

“Vic, what—” “I’ve been going fucking crazy.” “What?” “Thinking of you. Out with another man. On a date with another man.” “Vic, I—” “I realized we never had any conversation about exclusivity.” That shuts her up. “So right here, right now, I want to make this crystal fucking clear, Gabrielle. You’re mine. That’s it. Mine. You don’t go out with other men; you don’t dress up for other men. You. Are. Mine. Do you hear me?” I expect an argument, because this is Gabi, after all. Instead, I get a challenge. I realize now her breathing is heavy, soft pants hitting my face, those high shoes bringing her closer to my height. But despite that, there it is: that never back down, stubborn challenge. “Are you mine?” She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know. Gabi has me, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Somehow, in the chaos of this arrangement, she has snared me so deep, I can’t see light unless she’s around. The earth spins, the universe continues to move, but my world stops until she’s back in my arms. The thought scares me. But I push it aside when I answer—that fear can’t be near me when I do. “Fuck yeah, I am,” I proclaim, and then her lips are on mine, kissing me, making the first move. So Gabi, demanding everything from me and then taking more.

“We need to get inside,” I say, panting against her lips as I grind my hard cock into her. “Yeah,” she says but doesn’t make a move, just stays there, her eyes hooded, and her breasts are brushing my chest with each inhale. “Your apartment, kitten. You’ve got the keys,” I say with a smile, brushing a curl back. “Oh. Yeah,” she says, and then her hands move to the little purse at her side—a daisy purse. A theme. She digs in there and then hands me a bright yellow key with a smiley face painted on it. I’m not even surprised at this point. I smile then take it, unlocking the door and pushing it open as she almost falls through. But I catch her. I will always catch Gabi.

“Why, Gabi?” “I… It’s strange. It’s like… right there?” she says it like a question for me rather than an answer. “My cock?” Her cheeks burn. “Not yours. But generally—” My brain explodes. “Tonight is not the night to talk about another man’s cock.” “I wasn’t—” “No day, really. There is not a single day I want to hear my girl talk about another man’s cock.” “My girl” sounds really good. “But tonight I spent hours outside your apartment like a fucking stalker, thinking you were on a date with another man.” There’s a short pause before she nods, quick and concise, like we reached a business agreement, her forehead rubbing against mine with the movement. “Got it. No cock talk.” “You can talk about my cock all you want,” I say, grinding said anatomy into her.

“I want…” she says, the words breathy. “What do you want, baby?” This is what I’m waiting for. Her to make that move. If she’s never ready, I’ll let her make herself come, watch that show, then come on her tits because shit if that isn’t a version of something I’ve been dreaming of. But she tells me. “I want your cock in my mouth, Vic.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard more beautiful words. “Alright, baby, you can suck my cock,” I say, smiling. Again with the smiling and laughing during sex. I take a step forward and fuck if the angle isn’t perfect. “I’m gonna slide into your mouth, Gabi, and I’m gonna talk to you. I want you to keep fingering that puss of yours, yeah?” She nods, her pants hitting my dick in the most erotic caress. But of course, she has one more thing to say to completely annihilate my mind. “I want you to come in my mouth, honey.” Holy fucking shit. “What?” I pause, frozen, my hand on my dick that I was about to guide into her mouth. “My mouth. I want your cum, Vic.” Could this woman be any more perfect? “You sure?” “Oh yeah,” she says with a smile but then gasps and moans because she must have hit herself just right. I make a decision then. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna slide my cock into your mouth and you’re gonna suck me off while you touch yourself to stay grounded. I’m gonna fuck your mouth, Gabi, and I’m going to tell you just how pretty you look doing it. Then when you’re close—really fucking close, baby, get yourself almost there, we’re go...

“Climb on, baby. Put your cunt on my face and my cock in your mouth.”

“I totally want to do that again,” she says with a laugh, and if she wasn’t already mine, I’d do whatever I could in my power to make it that way.

“Work?” I ask, nearly hopeful—work could mean he can’t go to family dinner. “Worse. My mother.” My eyebrows furrow in confusion as he continues to stare at the screen. “Probably a potential date attack.” “Answer it,” I say with a laugh. “I’ll go try to find food for breakfast.” He gives me a look telling me he’s thinking about not answering it, but I do my best at replicating Gia’s stern mom look. It’s his mother, after all. Finally, it seems to work when he smiles, nods, and swipes to answer. “Hello, Mother,” he says, flopping into my bed and making me smile again. He would call his mom “Mother.” I make my way to the kitchen, where I scrounge for food. Sugary cereal for the boys. Milk that smells not quite right. English muffins. Those should do. I use a fork to separate them, popping them into the toaster and opening the fridge to grab condiments. Jelly, peanut butter, butter, honey… I have no idea what Vic would want. Walking back to the room to ask, I stop in my hallway, listening. “No, Mom, I don’t need you to set me up,” Vic says into the phone, pacing but facing the headboard, not the doorway. I should leave. Or make a noise. Anything besides standing here and listening. But I’ve never been one to listen to my own advice. “Yes, I told you, I’m working with a matchmaker. A real one. No, seriously!” He pauses. “I’m not giving you her number. She doesn’t need your advice.” I stifle a laugh. “No, I’m, uh… I’m already matched. I got my first match. She’s sweet… Yeah, I l...

“Did you just see that guy?” she shouts, moving her hand at a red car that cut in front of her. “See?!” And then I’m laughing, a real, genuine, body-shaking laugh, because in one million years I would never have thought that sweet Gabi, assistant to a matchmaker, virginal lover of romance novels, dresses like a preschool teacher, would have serious road rage.

“So, how did you two meet, by the way?” Dom asks, and my sister’s head moves to me, a silent, judgemental laugh on her face. I hate my family. “Vic helped when Nicky broke his wrist,” Ant says. I adore my brother-in-law. “Oh, no, they knew each other before that,” Gia says with a sickly sweet smile, one all of my siblings know as Gia’s big-sister-teasing-mode-activated smile. I despise my sister. “Oh, Gabi looks like she wants to barf!” Nico says. “Story time!” I down the wine in my glass. Gia grabs my empty glass and refills it with the bottle next to her. I glare at her but nod in thanks all the same. It truly is a love-hate relationship. “He was at the ER when she broke her wrist,” Gia says. “That’s not interesting,” Enzo says. “Why do I feel like it should have been more interesting?” Please, for the love of god, change the subject. Anyone. Please. I look at Vic, but the man is smiling. Let’s add him to the list of people I hate. “Oh, there’s definitely more to it. Look at her face.” “G, do you know?” Enzo asks. “Of course I know. She’s my sister.” “What’s there to know? She broke her wrist,” Dario says, his ever-present confused face on. “Do you know where she broke her wrist?” Gia asks, a devious smile in her voice. My face burns. Oh god, oh god! “Her apartment?” “In her shower,” Gia says, and everyone gets quiet. No, no, no! I’ll never live this down. Never ever, ever. I’ll be 80 and my brothers will be giving me shit about this. “Gia, shut the fuck up!” I shout, bu...

“She’s annoying,” Enzo says in that irritated big brother voice typically reserved for brothers in movies half his age, full of exaggeration. Of all of my brothers, Enzo and I butt heads the most. Vic’s hand holds mine tighter. I don’t think it’s for my comfort, though. “What?” “She’s annoying,” he repeats like Vic’s an idiot who didn’t finish middle school instead of a man who is a literal doctor. I wonder if that’s his second or third glass of whiskey in his hand. “She’s always saying random shit that makes no fucking sense. Pop’s the only one who endures it.” “Enzo, man—” Dom starts. “She’s not annoying,” Vic says, interrupting. Everyone is quiet, eyes to Vic. “She’s smart. Her mind is exquisite. Anyone who looks at the world around them and doesn’t just accept it but instead questions it? That’s beautiful.” He pauses, but he doesn’t look at me, despite my eyes being locked on him. If he looked at me, though, I don’t know what I’d do. Stop him? Kiss him? “A man who finds that annoying? Probably doesn’t notice a single good thing in front of him.” My gut is in my feet. Of my brothers, Enzo is also the most combative, the least filter to his words. We’re similar in that way. “That’s because you’re fuck—” Vic stands, dropping my hand. “Vic!” My eyes are wide, moving from Vic to Dom to Gia, trying to figure out what to do. “I’d suggest you shut the fuck up,” Vic says, eyes locked on my brother. “Enzo, man, you need to go inside,” Dom says. He’s standing now too, and so is N...

“Gabi doesn’t need anyone making her feel like she’s different or annoying. She might be your little sister and annoying to you by nature—” He looks around at my brothers. “—and I get it. I have a little sister. But I’ll tell you now that I won’t stand for that shit as long as I’m around.” Something in me breaks. Something small and almost unnoticeable but irreparable all the same. And with his words, words that could have caused a backlash on a bad day, my four remaining brothers, my brother-in-law, and my sister all nod and smile. It seems they’ve accepted Vic.

“You looked up why there’s no West Brunswick?” I nod. “Yeah.” “Why?” Her voice is breathy. I look at her finally, unable to resist. There’s awe there. Beneath the confusion, there is awe. Her eyes are wide and sparkling in the dark. “You wanted to know.” It’s the only answer I have. “Why not just wait for me to look it up?” “I figured you’d forgotten.” “I did.” She doesn’t say more than that, just stares at me as I drive. I wait for her to speak, but she doesn’t, just stares at me. In the dark, I can’t tell if her mind is here on earth or in some Gabi universe. Either way, as we turn into the parking garage for my apartment, I whisper my thoughts. “That means something to you.” There’s a long pause, a beat where I’m unsure if she’ll respond. But then she does. And when she does, her voice is low and breathy, filled with meaning. “Yeah, Vic. It means something to me.”

“I was just thinking how, just a month ago, I woke up in a strange man’s bed. Now that strange man is about to deflower me.”

“Vic, I don’t want—” He stops all movement as he’s rolling a condom on. My eyes are locked onto his cock, and holy shit. “Holy shit.” “What?” His face is one of panic. “That!” I say. I can feel the skin of my face stretching as my eyes go wide. “That thing is way too big!” He sits back on his heels, and then, the asshole he is, he finishes rolling the condom to the base and starts stroking it. I bite my lip and forget what I was saying. “You’ve held it before, Gabi.” “Holding it is different from it going into my vagina!” “It’s been in your mouth,” he says with that same cocky smile. “Yeah, but that doesn’t hurt.” “This won’t hurt either.” “You can’t promise that!” “You’re good and ready, kitten. You want me to keep getting you ready?” He looks down at my pussy that I know is dripping wet already. Well prepared for… that. Despite that, I think about it because, in all honesty, I wouldn’t hate that. He interrupts my thoughts about extended preparation. “You were made for me, Gabi.” My breathing stops. “It’ll fit, and it won’t hurt, not that way. You were made to take my cock, kitten.” His eyes have gone dark, moving from my pussy to my tits rising with each labored breath, to my lips parted, to my eyes. Holy shit, that was hot.

I don’t think he means I was made to fit him. Not my body, at least. I think this because I feel it too. I feel it. It’s so right. It’s so right, it has to be wrong. This can’t be. He can’t be. It makes no sense.

My mind barely registers that her arms move, shutting the door behind me before wrapping me up, tight. The hold so tight, it’s almost suffocating, but it’s what I need. Like one of those weighted blankets kids use for anxiety and security. Except human and warm. Alive. She’s alive. That woman might not be. That child might not be. But Gabi is. There is sunshine in the world and it is personified in Gabrielle Nicolette Mancini. Everything clicks then. I need this woman more than I need to breathe. Somehow, in this crazy scheme, I fell for her. I fell for Gabi and I fucking need her. Right now is proof in living color.

“We do this my way, yeah?” “Will you fuck me?” “No.” She pouts. Actually, full-on pouts while she’s got my cock in her. That’s when I know. That’s when I know I’m going to make her mine forever. “Trust me, yeah?” I ask, eyes on hers. She nods, forehead rubbing against mine. I move to press my lips to hers as I slowly, torturously slowly, lower her down onto me until she’s sitting in my lap, filled with me. She’s mine. Nothing’s between us, just Gabi and Vic, together in the way we were meant to me. It sounds fucking flowery and ridiculous even to my own mind, but it’s like the world has pushed her to me, and this is where I was always meant to end up. She breathes in deep, the intake moving her curls into my face, her breasts into my chest. “You good?” She doesn’t answer, just another deep breath, this one shakier. “Gabi.” “I have never felt better in my life, Victor.” I don’t know if I’ve ever heard her call me that. She knows.

“So this is what you read when I’m not available?” I say with laughter in my voice. I laugh outright when her curls spin, her face looking at me and the book in my hand. “That’s… I…” “No worries, babe. I know you like to read the fun stuff,” I say, flipping until I reach what I can only assume is an intimate scene. “Jeez, Gabi—you read some filthy shit.” A blush blooms on her face before she ignores me, opening the fridge door and hiding behind it. “‘You want my finger in your ass, baby,’” I quote, reading off the page. “Fuck, no wonder you like it when I talk to you.” I keep flipping as she argues. “Vic! Put that down! Stop… reading it!” “Why? Are you embarrassed?” “No.” The word comes out quick, without thought. “Maybe. Yes? It’s a little embarrassing.” “Does reading it make you happy?” She leans back from the fridge to look at me before nodding. “That’s all that matters.” I keep flipping, landing on another scene where he’s fucking her on the kitchen floor. Fuck, I can see the appeal. “Does it turn you on?” I ask, genuinely curious, not even looking up at her as I continue to read. A clatter has me looking up as she bends to grab a dropped bottle of mustard. I smile. Good to know I can still fluster her. I hope I never lose the touch, always able to do it. It’s cute. It would be a shame to never see it again. “I… uh…” The blush is a full-blown red running down her neck as she busies herself with condiments and lunch meat. “Good to know, Gabi.” “This is so embarrassing,”...

It’s clear I need a better plan than just telling Gabi she’s mine forever. I look around at the books around me, cheap, mismatched bookshelves stacked and stuffed with paperbacks and hardcovers, a rainbow of colors and textures but all containing a story. A story of a couple who was meant to be, who fell for each other, and, from what I know of what Vivi used to read, get their fairy tale ending. This is what Gabi wants. She wants the fairy tale ending. She wants the lead chasing her at an airport and the boombox outside the window. She might be rainbows and butterflies and chaos and, in a way, nonchalance. We might have jumped into this looking for casual and found forever. But regardless, she wants that big moment. And she deserves it. I just need to figure out how.

Then her eyes meet mine. And it’s there. My girl. She’s my girl. She might think she can hide her true thoughts behind carefully curated words, lift and reinforce that filter she uses for everyone else, but I know the truth. I can see through it, tear it to shreds and see what she’s too afraid to say. She’s mine. She’s also so fucking stubborn that I think if I tell her that, if I tell her she’s mine and I’ll cut the hands off any man who tried to change that with surgical precision, she’ll go insane. I could lose her. I need to make a plan. I need to make her see. She needs to know I’m all in. This was never just an arrangement. She needs a grand gesture. Chicks love that shit.

Ice cream cake really is superior to normal cake. The chocolate crunchies? The creamy frosting? The ice cream? Perfect combo.

“I have two things to say. You’re going to listen.” I widen my eyes because Cassie is bossy, but not usually like this. And not usually with me. “One, and it kills me to give any man other than Luke props, but the way that man looks at you? It is not ‘taking someone’s virginity and calling it a day.’ I’d know. That’s the look my high school boyfriend gave me when he took mine.” She rolls her eyes, and I try not to laugh. “It’s more. Two, when you set a man up to force him to give you an answer you want to hear but you lead him to the wrong one? He will give you the wrong answer, babe. Men are simple, stupid creatures.” I try to speak, but she cuts me off. “As women, we’re taught never to ask questions.” I start to interrupt because has she met me? All I do is ask questions. “Not questions like why does gum lose its flavor so fast.” She rolls her eyes at me, exasperated. “Questions like, ‘What is our relationship and where is it going?’ We’re taught that if we ask these questions, if we ask for too much or demand too quickly, we’ll lose the man. He’ll become the one who got away and then we’ll end up buying Meow Mix in bulk when we’re 80.” I laugh, but then I think about how cat fur would totally mess with my velvet couch and frown. “But do you know what happens when we don’t ask what’s on our mind?” She raises an eyebrow as I run my spork through the puddle of melted chocolate ice cream. “You lose the man. Or you lose yourself. You become my mother, who knew all along my f...

“He liked your mind because you are your mind. He likes you, babe.” I grab the wine and drink straight from the bottle, ignoring the cup in her hand. Cassie laughs. “But Gabi?” She stops until I meet her eyes. “If he took what you said and ran with it, accepted that you’re over and nothing more than friends, that’s on him. You deserve someone who will break into your office and demand you listen to him. You deserve a Luke.” She pauses. “Not my Luke. You’d drive him nuts.” We laugh. It’s true. “But you deserve someone who takes the random shit you spew to try and protect yourself with, even if it’s leading him in the wrong direction, and fights for you. You deserve your raunchy romance book ending.” I think of the dozens of books on my shelves, of how my mind took a mental snapshot of Vic in my messy apartment flipping through pages and pointing out parts he thought were funny. I think about how everyone gets their happily ever after, how they fight through the red flags to find their white knight. Cassie’s right. I do. I deserve that. So what if I fell for a red flag. I guess it has to happen to everyone once, right? And shit, Cassie’s right. If he was it, if he felt what I feel, then when I said that we were done because we’d finished our arrangement together, he’d have fought me on it. It kills me to say it, but he didn’t. He didn’t fight. The realization has a choked sound coming from deep inside of me. “Oh, honey.” “I fell, Cass. I should have listened to you,” I say, ...

I know she said our arrangement was over, but I didn’t think she meant it for real. After a month and a half of daily calls and texts, I find my day empty without them. Without her. It’s then I realize I fucked up.

I’ve spent 34 years living free, dating and not feeling the slightest whim to settle down, dodging my mother’s disappointment at every turn. But a month with Gabi has me making plans I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel the urge to make. When she said that we were done, our agreement completed, I froze. I spent a full month dragging things out, spending time with her, learning her body. Learning her. I could have fucked her that first day. I could have done that, made it good, and gone on my way. But there was no way I would let her go that quickly. That first time making her come, I knew I needed more. I needed everything. But it was more than just sex with her. It’s talking to her. Watching her thoughts move behind her eyes and then her inability to stop them from coming out. She makes me wonder about everything, question everything. For a man who was raised to be straight-laced, to excel and do things by the book but was dying for chaos and unpredictability, she’s a dream. She’s my dream. She’s my adventure, the chaos I’ve been looking for my entire life. It turns out I didn’t need constant change or the lack of knowing. I didn’t need to avoid staying in one place or with one person for too long. No, what I needed was Gabrielle Nicolette Mancini. Chaos personified. I know that with her by my side, my life will be filled with what I’ve always craved. I will never be bored, never suffer from the monotony of life.

Now, sitting in the apartment we spent so much time in—an apartment I’ve never taken another woman besides my sister back to, I realize I should have told her that. That she was the only one here. The only woman I’ve made dinner for. The only woman I bought expensive art for. The only woman to show me what life was missing and crave it. I should have told her the ways she is special. That we were special. That there would be no matching. That it was us, her and me, from now on. For real. I fucked up. I need my plan. But I also can’t rush it.

“What do you want?” a voice asks. It’s not Gabi. It’s a man’s voice. A fucking man’s voice. It takes everything in me not to go ballistic. “Where’s Gabi?” I pull the phone from my ear, checking to make sure I hit send on the right contact. Maybe I called someone else. “What do you want?” “Look, man, I called my girl and some fuckin’ guy answered. I deserve for you to tell me where the fuck she is. Or at the very least, who the fuck you are.” “This is Luke.” Luke, Luke… Cassie’s fiancé? Ben’s friend. “Why are you answering Gabi’s phone?” “Why are you callin’ her?” This guy is still a fucking dick. “Is she at your place?” “Yes.” We’re both silent. He’s clearly waiting for me to say more. I’m waiting for him to explain why he’s answering Gabi’s phone. “What do you want, Vic?” “I want to talk to Gabi.” “Why?” “This isn’t something I want to discuss with a relative stranger.” “Too bad.” “What?” “I said, too bad. You get me. Talk to me.” What in the actual fuck? “Man. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. But I’m pretty sure you can get why it would not be great for me to call my girl and another man answer.” There’s silence for a few moments before he speaks. “Is she your girl?” “What?” “I said, is she your girl?” I don’t answer. “Are you deaf, man?” “You know sure as fuck she’s my girl.” I really don’t like this guy. “Do I?” “I don’t like games, man.” “She’s sitting in my living room, eating from a 5-gallon tub of cheese balls and watching Titanic with my girl.” This sounds...

“Why did you talk with Cassie?” “Because if I found out you were going on a date with any man other than myself, I would have gone fucking feral, Gabrielle.” My eyes widen. “Oh.” It’s the only thing that comes to my lips. A million words come to my mind, but all I can say is “oh.” Why am I like this? “Yeah, oh.” He stares at me, that smile still playing on his face, but his eyes are serious. He’s saying something. I just can’t quite... “But…” “But what, kitten?” His words are soft and they run through me, familiar and warm, and I have missed that sound so much. It’s been three days.

We stare at each other then. Stare. And god, it’s been three freaking days, but I missed this man. I missed this smile. I am so utterly fucked. How am I supposed to survive a lifetime without that smile if I can’t handle three freaking days?

“You’re it for me, Gabi.” Again, the words circle. They’re too much to understand, so far beyond anything I know to be true. You’re it for me, Gabi. You’re it for me, Gabi. You’re it for me, Gabi. It clicks in my mind, like a LEGO in my brain, staying there. Cemented forever. You’re it for me, Gabi. He sees it and goes forward. “I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours. Not temporarily to teach you things or to get my mom off my ass, which was a bullshit excuse, by the way. But because I’ve fallen head over heels for you.” My breathing stops, frozen in my lungs. “How’s that for a confession?” I gloss right on over the “bullshit excuse” part and move right on. “But… but…” I stop stuttering. “That’s impossible.” He laughs, the sound deep, the smile easy. “Not impossible. I’m very much in love with you, Gabrielle Nicolette Mancini.” In love with me. The world swirls around me, a confusion of colors and noises and feelings and… I’m overwhelmed. Nothing makes sense. Up is down and left is right and red is green and Victor Brandt loves me. “You can’t.” “Why’s that?” “Because you’re… Vic.” “Yeah.” The words are a laugh and it’s starting to get annoying. How dare he laugh when I am having a mental crisis. “But… you’re…” Should I say it? Would that be offensive? I mean, it’s true, but… “What am I, Gabi?” “You’re a fucking walking red flag!” I shout, the words flying from my mouth. I clap my hands there as if I can drag them back in. “What?” he says, the smile on his face telli...

“Is that all?” “What?” “My red flags. Is that all of them?” I glare. “No.” “What else, baby?” My mind goes blank. I know there is more. An entire college-ruled sheet of red flags to keep me up late at night, chinks in his armor for me to overthink and dissect. But I can’t think of a single one now that he’s sitting across from me, saying these words. He smiles at my hesitance. There. There’s one. “You have a panty-dropping smile!” His head goes back, a laugh rumbling from his chest, and my stupid, stupid, stupid fucking body. It responds exactly like it always does when he does that, when I see his Adam’s apple bobbing with his laughter and his strong chin tipping back, and when I hear the noise that makes everything inside of me quiet. Peace. That’s what he gives me. But I learned that he also has the power to take that peace away, whether he means to wield it or not.

“What are you doing here, kitten?” What am I doing here? “Cassie set me up.” “Why?” I don’t want to answer this. I don’t want him to know that I’m here because I was hoping it would stop me from shattering. That moving on was what I needed. I’m here because when I’m home, the quiet suffocates me and all I can think of is what could have been. “It’s... time,” is what I say instead. “It’s time.” “You agreed. I should… date.” “We already went over that part. I was dumb. I was scared that if I didn’t let you decide to be with me on your own, you’d always question it. I was sure that as soon as I left and you thought on it, you’d see that all I want is you—and that you’re mine. I thought you’d get that and reach out, ready to try this for real. I should have known better than to expect you to come to me first.” My nose wrinkles in confusion. “You’re stubborn, kitten. You’re also protective of yourself and your pride. Coming to me first, admitting you want more than we agreed to, especially after my dumb ass told you that you could date? Fuck, if I didn’t make that first move, you never would have.” “I’m not stubborn.” He stares at me. “Maybe a little.” “That aside, what are you doing here, Gabi?” “I told you, Cassie set me—” “How long have you been working for Cassie?” “About two years. “ “In those two years, has she ever set you up?” I stare at him. “Have you been single in those two years?” The entirety of them, I don’t say. “Has she ever made it seem like she would frown upo...

“I called you on Tuesday to meet up. To talk. I realized I was an idiot. You’re not innocent, but you’re not experienced in dating.” “I work for a matchmaker!” “I thought you weren’t going to interrupt?” I glare again. “You might work for a matchmaker, baby, but your head is in those books. In your books, things just work, even when the woman does something dumb that means the man has to chase her down.” “Excuse me, you didn’t put up much of a fight either, did you, Vic?” If I’m honest with myself, that’s the part that hurts the most. I was an idiot and put the thought out there, setting him up to give me an answer. It was childish. I was playing games. He’s right there. But he also failed the test. “I’m not used to falling, Gabi.” My heart stops. “It’s never happened to me. I’m an idiot man who works on a temporary basis when it comes to women. I’ve never felt the need to fight for a woman to stay, for something to last longer.” I scrunch my nose, lifting my lip like I smell something gross. He is the gross thing, to be clear. “Stop. You know what I mean. In college and med school, I fucked around. But the past two years? Casual dating but the same women. You know that.” I do, unfortunately. He’d told me this already. The thought still roils my stomach. “I never had to fight to make it continue. It was also basically whenever one of us was done with it, we said so and that was it. And Gabi, when you said so, my initial reaction, regardless of the fact that I found it frus...

“I need to hold you, Gabi. I need that right now more than I need to breathe. Not a part of me thinks we won’t figure this out, eventually. I can wait for you to process and come to terms with the fact that this is it. But I’m not doing it without you in my arms. Please. Let’s go.”

“Gabi.” “What?” I look over at him and the smile playing on his lips. The smile he gets when I run on, when he just sits there listening to me like he thinks I’m the most interesting person he knows. It’s crazy. I love it. I love him. “I love you, Gabi.” The words still make my heart flutter, my belly flop, and my mind settle. That feeling. That’s the one I’d follow him to the ends of the earth to keep. That feeling I’ve gotten nowhere else in my entire life but when I’m with Vic. “Love you, but we gotta go inside.” My peace shatters. I open my mouth to argue, but his hand is on my chin, pulling it to him where he plants a soft kiss on my lips. “I don’t wanna.” “She’s going to love you.” “I’m nothing special for her perfect boy.” “You’re everything special, and if she doesn’t see that, it’s her loss.” That should be comforting, but it’s not. It’s so not. “But she will, Gab.” I scrunch my nose, not quite believing him. “Now, we gotta go. Gotta go inside, okay?” Silence. “The kids are standing at the door.” Damn the man for knowing my weakness. I turn my head to see Nicky, Gino, and Sammy all standing at the door, smiling. They start to wave. I sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”