“Yeah, I pretty much eat them all day, every day. Like I said, comfort food.”
“You turned down me cooking for you…for jelly beans? Duly noted as comfort food.”
I can’t tell whether he’s being flippant or genuinely interested. I frown, hoping he takes the hint that I’m not open to talkingfurther about my obsession with jelly beans, so when he continues, he changes the subject.
We wind up talking for a few hours about shows we watch or books we’ve read, then switch topics to work. He tells me more about the restaurant, his friendship with Luke, and how he’s more of a brother to him than anything else. It’s comforting to know others have the same type of friendship as I do with Connor and Kaden. Well, Kaden being an exception—at least in the past.
He starts getting ready for bed, and I can’t help but watch every moment of him shuffling the phone around while undressing and climbing into bed. His skin is a luscious shade of bronze, and his chest and abs are beautiful, even without the typical six-pack that most people fawn over on guys—my body quivers just from watching him. He’s definitely built like a house with height and broadness, but I like the fact that he’s not as chiseled under his clothes as I initially thought.
I follow suit, washing up and then changing into clean boxers. Once I’m hiding under the covers, I lift my phone off the nightstand where I placed it screen-down. I prop it up on the pillow next to me and lie on my side facing it, finding Gabe has already done the same with his.
We stare at each other for a few minutes before he finally speaks. His voice is rough from overuse—and probably lack of sleep—when he says, “I know I’m not allowed to ask anything personal, but can you tell me something about you? Something no one knows. Anything you want.” His lids keep closing while I think about his request, but without fail, he opens them again, keeping them on my face.
“This is maybe not as personal as you want…” I’m terrified to finish my sentence, but something about him makes me feel like I can trust him. “But I’m scared once you get to know me,you’ll hate what you see and leave me…” Before I can finish my sentence, Gabe cuts me off.
“Impossible.” His voice is barely a whisper, fading as he loses his fight against sleep, a slight smile still on his face.
“…Like they did.” My lungs expand and contract with relief, and I’m thankful he doesn’t hear all of what I had to say.
I watch him resting until my body decides to do the same without my permission, our call still connected as we sleep, miles apart, yet side by side.
Chapter Six
A Little Flirting Never Hurt Anyone
Gabe
When I woke up this morning, my phone was still in the same position as it was while talking to Ender last night, but the battery was dead. I must’ve passed out on him because I don’t remember saying goodnight. The last thing I rememberwas asking him to tell me something personal about himself, to which I don’t think he responded—or maybe I fell asleep before he could.
I felt like a dick falling asleep on him, so I texted him as soon as my phone had enough charge. It’s now noon, and he hasn’t responded yet. Hopefully, he’s just busy and not pissed off at me again.
When I still don’t hear from him at close to midnight when I’m parking my car at home, I can’t take the silence any longer. Grabbing my phone, I text him before rational thought stops me from acting like a clingy boyfriend.
Are you ignoring me because I fell asleep on you?
I feel like this is a punishment for no good reason, and definitely not a fun punishment. I’m really sorry I fell asleep.
My phone rings seconds after I hit send.
“Wow, aren’t we a little needy?” His laughter instantly draws a smile out of me.
“I’m not needy, I just don’t like being ignored.” To avoid sounding like a petulant child—even though it’s probably too late—I add on, “It’s no big deal, I just wanted to make sure you got my apology.”
“I’m sorry, it was a really busy day for me. It felt like I had to put out one fire after the next.” Ender’s tone softens. “I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.”
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never been like this with any guy. I sound like a walking red flag of a jealous boyfriend, and I’m not even his boyfriend.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like this, I swear.” Shaking my head at myself, I finally exit my car and head straight upstairs for a shower.
“I think we’ve said, ‘I’m sorry’ to each other more times in the four days we’ve known each other than most couples say in a month.”
I smile at his slipup, unsure if he even noticed it himself, as I turn on the water.
“So, we’re at couple status already?” I keep my tone playful and teasing—more to make myself feel better for acting the way I did just a minute ago.
“Shit. No, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just comparing—”
I interrupt his fumbled explanation before he can say anything else he’ll regret. “Ender, stop. I was kidding. It’s fine.” I hear the clinking sound of candy hitting teeth and then muffled chewing. “What flavor was that one?”
