Dammit, he saw right through me. "Okay, so I wasn't mugged. I was pretending with one of my little cousins, and she used finger paints for the portrait." I pulled onto the road back to Pacific Coast Highway, my fingers trailing across Gabe's knuckles as I avoided potholes and another feisty squirrel.
"What I mean to say is, I'm glad you're my mate. I like everything about you." I almost slipped and said the other L word, but it was too soon for that. I could feel it coming, though. I already loved spending time with Gabe. It wouldn't be long before that love eclipsed my worries and doubts about the future.
"Even the messy apartment?"
"My only complaint was when it wanted to murder you in your sleep. Now, it's perfect." I wasn't even exaggerating. He'd found a balance of eclectic art and bookish elegance I admired. It was still cramped, but our new house would have plenty of room for his books.
"What about my erratic sleep schedule, or my 'drop everything for my bestie' lifestyle?"
I hadn't experienced either yet, but, "I can sleep through almost anything," I said. "If I wake up missing you, I might curl up in your lap."
He squeezed my hand.
"Becca is always welcome to crash our plans," I continued. "And if Bruce hurts her, I'm on her side. I already told him so."
Gabe laughed, but sobered quickly. "You knew about the money."
"It wasn't my place to tell you."
"I know." He wrapped his other hand around mine, holding onto me like an anchor. "I hope our future disagreements are like that, too."
"Like what?"
"Quickly resolved. Becca was prepared to struggle financially for her entire married life, and now I'm super jealous of her. She could have an art studio or gallery wherever she wants. That's what we always said we would do if we won the lottery. If Bruce is that well off, hers could come tomorrow as a wedding present."
"They're not 'win the lottery' rich," I said. "Bruce really does have student loans he needs to pay back, but he's paying his family without interest."
"Oh." His voice was thick with disappointment. "Well, our dream is still on, then. One day, we'll have an art studio or a gallery together."
If I had my way, it would be sooner than he expected.
15
GABE
Mika's momgreeted us at the door with tight hugs and a knowing grin. "You smell like each other," she said. "Still no mark though. Why is that?"
"Mom, we've known each other for two weeks now."
"Yeah, and it's been a week since I gave you permission to mate him. What are you waiting for?" She turned to me. "Is he not good enough?"
Never comfortable being put on the spot, I sputtered until she laughed and patted my shoulder. "I'm kidding, Gabe. You have about eleven months before your house is built, anyway." If Mika hadn't warned me about the house, I would have fainted dead away. Instead, I inhaled sharply. "Guest room's available whenever you want a romantic getaway," she continued as she strolled through the living room, a path we hadn't taken the last time we were here. "The walls are soundproof."
"Mom!" Mika shouted after her. "Could you maybe give him a month or two to settle in before giving him the entire bossy family crash course?"
"Not a chance."
We followed her laughter to a massive dining room with floor to ceiling south-facing windows. While the room wasimpressive, the sheer number of people with dark skin, black hair, and expressive brown eyes like Mika's stunned me. I'd never seen so many beautiful people in one room.
They stood in clusters of six to eight. One person in each group spoke with animated expressions and wild hand gestures while the others hung on their every word.
That was what I liked most about Mika. He told a good story, sure, but he also listened better than anyone else in my orbit. I loved Becca with my entire heart, but that woman had the attention span of a caffeinated raccoon with cell phones for hands.
"No one is talking over the others," I whispered to Mika. "I feel like I'm at a small group speech event, or group therapy where they pass imaginary beach balls."
He laughed. "Nothing like that. We all love stories, which is why every meal becomes a five-hour affair."
Instead of joining a group, Mika took me around to all of them, introduced me as his mate, and moved on before the conversation began again. I tried to remember the names of Mika's four siblings, starting with his older sister Rachel, and the two-years-younger twins, Franco and Faria, and Nathan, the youngest.
