I slam my eyes shut as he releases the hold on my leg. I’m frustrated and emotionally drained.
Why do I keep allowing this to happen? He hasn’t come back to me yet. Hasn’t even given me any indication that he will. And he sure as hell hasn’t explained why he left in the first place.
I’m done. So done.
I’m moving on with Alex.
“Damn you, Gabriel.”
I roll over, hugging the phone to my chest, succumbing to the sound of… silence.
13
ALEX
Humidity clings to the air,and it’s only mid-morning. After one last stretch, I step off the curb and ease into a steady jog. A good run should help shake out my thoughts.
It’s been a week since our dinner at Seven’s Bistro in uptown Manhattan—and I’ve been avoiding Elijah.
Not because I didn’t enjoy myself.I did. I had a great time. I actually managed to relax, being wined and dined by a man who basically took my hand and walked me straight through the gates of gay heaven. I wanted to stay… continue enjoying all of its perks.
But instead, I panicked. All because I dared to look truth in the eye and expose my heart.
Expose other parts too.
Ugh.
Why am I feeling this way? I should feel relieved. Especially after talking with Emilee. She was totally fine with the idea of Elijah and me dating. And yet, here I am… nerves all tangled and tied in knots. Probably because I like him so much. Of course,there’s also the fact that he’s a man, and I never expected to have a boyfriend.
Got to say, I didn’t see that one coming.
When Meera left, I’d pretty much written off dating altogether. I had zero interest in finding someone new. I figured that chapter of my life was closed—and I was fine with it.
So it goes without saying that this attraction between Elijah and me has taken me by total surprise. And if that wasn’t jarring enough, I’d gone home with him and spent the entire night in his arms—naked.
Groaning, I push my legs harder, falling into a steady rhythm. Running has always been an outlet for me. Silencing my mind, loosening the knots in my chest.
But not today.
Today, my mind just won’t shut up.
I round the corner, weave around a pack of dogs on tangled leashes, and glance down at my watch, debating whether I should call Elijah. I’d like to see him again. Plus, I owe him an apology for going dark on him all week.
Eleven miles later, after zig-zagging through the narrow streets of NYC—my mind taking its own tour through a maze of complicated thoughts—I find myself standing at the corner of Bourbon Bar with a mass of humid air clinging to my body.
I gulp down the rest of my water and unclip my cell from my waist. Eleven thirty-seven a.m. He’s probably not even here yet. Maybe that’s a sign, and I should just go home. I’m not even sure how he’ll feel about this impromptu visit anyway. Plus, I’m a sweaty mess. Hair plastered to my forehead, sweat dripping off my chin. Definitely not my best look.
Using the bottom of my shirt, I wipe the sweat off my face and flip my ballcap around while enjoying the hotchpotch of noises funneling around me.
It’s what I’ve always loved about the city. Busy streets are the norm. Chaos is part of its charm. I wouldn’t want to live any place else in the world. There’s so much life here. Noise and distractions. You can basically hide in plain sight—if so desired.
Like I’m doing now.
Lowering my head, I walk over to the lamp post and dial Elijah.
“Hello?” He answers on the first ring, not giving me a chance to second-guess myself.
“Elijah.” Now, I’m tongue-tied.
