My vision scatters in search of either my friends or that face that I still can’t believe I’m about to spend the evening with. And for once, I don’t mean Caiden.
I don’t know how it happens, because how can I spot Gabe first when I barely know him? But I do. He’s got a beer clutched to his broad chest as he talks excitedly to a person of equal stature next to the fire. Must be an old friend. There are lots of those around here.
I pull in a deep breath, finding comfort in the burning wood smell as I stare.
Gosh, he’s handsome. His t-shirt stretches over his chest and ripples with every chuckle or movement, each line more defined with the shadows from the fire. His baby face is long gone, like many of the men I’ve known in this town.
I nervously tug down the edges of my dress again. Knowing now who he is, I feel the same nerves I might have felt in high school, which is downright ridiculous.
I’m not a hormonal teen any longer who’d run in the opposite direction if the quarterback of the football team glanced at her.
That is, until he catches me staring, and I’m ready to do the exact thing I said I wouldn’t.
I remember Gabe from high school, and I hated how stereotypical he was even then. I might have written about it in my journal when I watched him cavorting with the cheerleaders.
I might have even written about how I wondered why it wasn’t boring being him/them. Because, wouldn’t it be? To know you’re a parody of yourself, and when you watch those old John Hughes movies, that their story has already been told so many times to the point of annoyance? Maybe not. Maybe when you’re in the cool kid group, life is just good, and you really have no understanding how the other half lives. That being me. I wasn’t the biggest outsider, but I remember feeling like it. Maybe it’s because I never truly felt like I fit in, even with all my friends who proudly flaunted their attendance in the extracurricular.
Of course, I attended every homecoming game, and even every party, but the people never fit. Boys like Gabe made out with girls openly at parties and shot-gunned beers in the living room with an audience.
I, on the other hand, begged Caiden to get into trouble with me elsewhere, pulling him from the parties to somewhere private, away from the crowds and popularity contests. Of course, he never minded. I liked my own type of mischief, and if it involved Caiden, I didn’t care what we got ourselves into.
“Hey, Hailey.”
I smile reflexively at the sound of my name, realizing that my nostalgic reminiscing has distracted me and Gabe is now standing in front of me, smiling openly, his smooth-shaven skin putting his mouth on full display.
“Gabe, hi.”
“You look… great.” He grins, scratching the back of his head nervously as he says it, and I laugh.
“Thanks.” I force my hands to release the hem of my dress and try to embrace who I am. Which is an adult woman, who this good-looking guy seems to be interested in. God help him.
“Let me go grab you a drink. You like beer?”
He’s still smiling, and I can’t tell if my cheeks are flushed with heat because of the raging fire only fifty feet away, or because I’m that giddy girl I desperately don’t want to be.
“Beer sounds great.”
“Perfect. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
He winks before departing, and I’m most definitely a dopey mess over it as he turns around. Goddammit, I need to get a grip.
“Baby bird, I had higher hopes for you.”
I swivel around to see Brandon finishing off his own bottle of beer.
Raising a brow and placing a hand on my hip, I retort, “I’d prefer you not spy on me. Plus, Gabe’s nice.”
He laughs very obviously at me. “Whatever. I just hate that dumb look on your face when he talks to you. I wish things were different, ya know?”
Well, I wish I could throw a fit. I want to. Only because I know what he means, and like an idiot I ask, “Where’s Caiden?”
He grins like he just won a game I didn’t know we were playing, and I have the urge to punch him.
“Oh, he’s around.” I don’t like the way his lips toy with his words, continuing this game at my expense, all of it containing hidden meanings. “I don’t like you in that dress either, especially not around Samuels.”
I roll my eyes, and I’m ready to playfully insult him, but Gabe appears. His eyes collide with Brandon’s before they make it to mine, and Gabe’s smile isn’t as confident as before as he says, “Here you go, Hailey.”
I lift one hand to touch his elbow while grabbing the drink with the other. It’s a deliberate flirtatious move that doesn’t go unnoticed as Gabe cements his grin, regaining the confidence he lost track of only seconds ago.
“Whatever,” Brandon whispers before turning to me to say, “I’m trying to find CeeCee. She’s pissed at me again, and hell if I know why. I can’t seem to do anything right.” He pauses, his eyes darting between Gabe and me, and I can tell he thinks he’s talking too much. “Anyway, I gotta go find her.”
Gabe clears his throat. “Um, I saw her near the drinks. She might have been talking to John Walden.”
Brandon’s face shifts into brute anger, but for once, not at his archnemesis as he grumbles, “Sonuva—if she wants to play that game, fine.” He’s about to stomp off in the opposite direction, but his heated stare shakily makes it back to Gabe as he reluctantly huffs, “Thanks,” before leaving.
Once he’s out of earshot, Gabe releases a long huff before saying, “You think he’s forgiven me yet?”
I laugh an honest to goodness laugh, bringing the bottle to my lips, loving that the tension between my friends and him, and the reasons why, are not hidden away, but instead blasted for comedic relief.
“Doubtful, but I appreciate the effort.”
He nudges his chin behind him. “Let’s go hang out over there.”
I nod, then take a large gulp as I begin my strides through the fairly crowded party. Gabe’s hand comes to the small of my back, lightly leading me. His touch makes me nervous and excited, but also feels forbidden at the same time. I make a mental note to catalog these feelings later in my notebook.