After we hang up, I leave my studio in my apartment and move to my bedroom, standing in front of my closet, bypassing my usual paint-spattered jeans and oversized shirts. Instead, I reach for the dress I bought on impulse last year but never found the courage to wear—midnight blue silk that clings to every curve, with a neckline that dips lower than anything else in my wardrobe.
The woman in the mirror looks like a stranger—someone bolder, more dangerous than I usually allow myself to be.
When I arrive at The Blue Room, the neon sign casts blue shadows across the empty sidewalk. The door opens before I knock.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Gabe says, then his eyes drop, taking in the dress, the skin I’ve daringly left exposed.
Something shifts in his expression—a darkening, a hunger that makes my stomach clench. No man has ever looked at me quite like that before, as if I’m something he wants to devour. The intensity in his gaze touches me everywhere—throat, breasts, between my legs.
The club is empty; chairs stacked on tables. Only the small stage with its grand piano remains ready, a single spotlight illuminating the gleaming black surface.
Gabe leads me to a velvet-covered chair positioned perfectly beside the piano. “I wrote something new,” he says. “For you.”
When his fingers touch the keys, I forget to breathe. The melody starts gentle, questioning, before building into something more complex. Minor chords that mimicwhispers in the dark, that make me think of sheets tangled around naked bodies.
I watch his hands—those strong fingers moving across the keys with absolute control—and imagine them on my skin, between my thighs, inside me. The image is so vivid I press my legs together, trying to ease the ache building there.
His eyes find mine as he plays, seeing straight through me, knowing exactly what his music is doing to my body.
The final note hangs in the air, vibrating through me long after his fingers leave the keys. Neither of us speaks for several heartbeats.
“Come, let’s sit together,” Gabe says, rising from the piano bench. “There’s a bottle of Château Margaux that deserves our attention.”
He leads me to a secluded corner booth, hidden in shadow. The wine appears, ruby-dark in crystal glasses. We sit close enough that our thighs brush when either of us moves.
“Tell me about your process,” he says. “The way you see the world—it’s different, isn’t it?” His hand settles on my knee, casual yet deliberate.
I take a sip of wine to steady myself. “My ADHD makes everything... more,” I admit. “Louder, brighter, more connected. I notice patterns everywhere—in traffic lights, in the way people move, in the spaces between buildings.”
His thumb begins drawing small circles against my skin. Each tiny movement sends currents racing up my thigh.
“Is that why you hide constellations in city blocks?” he asks, leaning closer.
“I’m not hiding them. They’re already there.” I struggleto keep my voice steady as his fingers trace higher. “I just... reveal them.”
“The compulsive counting,” he says. “Is that part of it too?”
I startle. “How did you know about that?”
His smile is knowing. “I notice things too. How you tapped your finger seven times against your wineglass earlier.”
I’ve never met someone who sees these things about me. Who understands without judgment.
“You see the world in layers,” he says. “Most people only see the surface. That’s a gift. And I wonder...” his hand slides higher, beneath the hem of my dress, “what you’d see if you really let yourself look.”
My breath catches. His fingers trail fire along my inner thigh.
“At you?” I ask.
“At everything. At yourself.” He leans in, his lips a breath from mine. “At what you want.”
When he kisses me, it’s devastating—soft yet commanding. I clutch his shoulders, anchoring myself as his hand slides fully beneath my dress, fingertips tracing the edge of my underwear.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against my mouth.
I answer by pulling him closer.
His fingers slip past the barrier of my underwear, finding me already embarrassingly wet. As he strokes a finger through my lips, his eyes darken to something primal.
