“Any modeling gigs lined up for the summer?” he asks, pinning me with his striking dark eyes, slicing straight through my dirty thoughts.
I have a few photo shoots lined up for the coming weeks, but aside from that, my calendar is wide open. “Just a few local shoots,” I say, sliding off my stool, bracing myself for the traffic we’re about to encounter as we leave JFK and navigate our way through the busy streets of New York City.
18
ALEX
“Hi, Dad,”Emilee chants, surprisingly having decided to call in lieu of a text.
It’s only been a week since she left for Spain, and I can hear the excitement in her voice as she rehashes every single moment. Gabriel is now officially her new favorite person, and his name is woven into every other sentence, along with Ana’s, of course.
Apparently, Gabriel’s family is very wealthy. According to Emilee, “They live in a mansion, Dad!”His parents live on the property, too, in separate living quarters, and speak only Spanish. Which Emilee has now trained her American tongue to grapple with—and she spills out broken sentences as she dry runs through her new vocabulary.
“So, Dad, what’s new with you?” She finally winds down. “Have you seen G?”
I’ve been informed that Elijah is “much cooler” than I am, hence the casual use of the initial to his last name. And, of course, he’s cool with that.
“All good here, Em. Elijah’s been busy at the bar, and I’ve had some modeling gigs,” I answer.
“Well, Ana said G’s been spending alotof time with you. So, which is it?”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling at her inquisitive mind. “I’ve seen him, Em.”
She giggles. “I knooow, Dad. G’s husband talks about you all the time.”
I’m sorry,husband?!
“Gotta go! Bye, Dad.”
19
ALEX
The next weekpasses in a blur. Elijah and I spend nearly every day together—me tagging along to his bar, watching him work the room with effortless charm and sharp business sense. We explored museums, lingered at festivals, and discovered tucked-away restaurants, sampling new foods and soaking in the city.
One warm night, after a delicious steak dinner, we found ourselves outside Gravity, a sleek gay nightclub just a few blocks from Elijah’s place. Music pulsed through the open doors as a stylish crowd flowed in and out. The place has a reputation—upscale, exclusive, and magnetic.
“Let’s go in,” Elijah said, reaching for my hand.
Once again, I pulled away. This was yet another first I wasn’t quite ready for.
Maybe someday.
With Emilee’s vacation winding down, we took a two-hour drive to a vineyard in Hudson Valley. The tasting room was stunning. We sampled local wines—my favorite was a rosé ofpinot noir with hints of strawberry, my favorite fruit. I’d tasted it again on Elijah’s lips when I kissed him under the sun.
It was perfect.
We left with two cases each, a mix of reds and whites. I was officially a wine drinker.
By the time we got back to the city, it was just shy of nine. The streets felt quieter than usual, or maybe I was just tired, a little lightheaded, the wine settling in like a slow drip sedative.
Elijah pulls up in front of my building, parking with ease. His phone rings. Gabriel. My hand pauses on the door, instinct tugging at me. Three a.m. in Spain isn’t a casual hour for a call.
He answers, slipping into Spanish, voice steady. For a moment, I listen, trying to catch any sign of tension in his voice, but it’s hard to tell.
Then he looks at me, briefly covering the phone. “Everything’s fine,” he says calmly. “Gabriel just needs to talk… something personal.”
He kisses me—gentle, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence. I nod and step out, closing the door behind me.
