But he doesn’t listen. His grip tightens, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. We’re just having a bit of fun, right?”
I shut my eyes, and suddenly, his grip on my hair vanishes. I stumble back, heart racing, scrambling to put space between us. My arms tremble as I try to steady myself.
“What’s going on here?”
I freeze. That voice—I’d recognize it anywhere. Gabriel.
The man tries to brush it off, but his slurred excuse is no match for the cold steel in Gabriel’s voice. “Nothing, we were just talking.”
Gabriel steps in. His presence grounding me. His hand lands firmly on the man’s arm as he pulls me away without effort—without hesitation.
A second voice says, “Well, it looks to me like she was desperately trying to get away from you. And if I were you, I’d leave now before my friend Gabriel here beats the asshole out of you for laying hands on his girl.”
The man stumbles backward, his eyes widening in fear at Gabriel’s friend’s words. He mumbles something, then turns and hurries off, disappearing into the crowd.
Gabriel smirks at his friend’s choice of words.
Gabriel turns to me, his expression softening as he lifts meinto his arms. I bury my face against his chest, the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his embrace grounding me.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.
I nod, too shaken to speak. I feel safe in his arms, and that’s something I haven’t truly felt in a long time. He walks me through the town, keeping me close to him, as if protecting me from the world.
After a few moments of silence, Gabriel speaks again. “How was your cooking class?”
I look at him, surprised he’s asking. I had almost forgotten about it.
“Right, the cooking class. It was great, actually. I learned how to make pasta from scratch, and to my surprise, we even made the cheese and butter from scratch as well.”
Gabriel looks at me with amusement. “No, don’t stop on my account. I enjoy hearing about the things you like to do. I feel like I barely know you.”
And I realize he’s right. We haven’t really talked, not about anything important. About us. About what’s between us.
“Well, what do you say we change that, Gabby?” I ask, using the nickname I gave him all those months ago.
Gabriel’s eyes widen slightly, and then he smiles. “I know just the place,” he says, his fingers lacing with mine as we continue walking, the sunset casting long shadows across the cobblestones.
We may not know each other yet, but I can feel something shifting between us, something undeniable. Something I’m not sure I can ignore much longer.
I don’t know where Gabriel is taking me at first. We walk through the winding cobblestone streets of Bellagio, the evening air cooling slightly as the sun dips lower behind the mountains. I’m still trying to shake off the unease from the encounter with that man—my skin prickling with every thought of his hands on me. The sensation of Gabriel’s presence beside me is the only thing keeping me grounded.
As we walk, Gabriel glances at me, a soft look in his eyes thatseems to reach deeper than I’m prepared for. He slows his pace slightly, his fingers tightening around mine, and finally says, “Are you still hungry? I realize I never asked you that.”
Heart swoon.
My goodness, this man. Even when he’s clearly caught up in his own thoughts, when he’s handling things—like that man just now, or his family, or the weight of everything he’s been dealing with—he stops and thinks about me. About what I’m feeling. The simple consideration makes my heart swell, and I can’t help but smile a little.
“I don’t have much of an appetite,” I say, my voice softer than I intended. I shudder involuntarily as the memory of that man’s touch surfaces again, and for a split second, I feel that cold grip on my arm, the smell of alcohol on his breath.
I hate that this wasn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. I’m far too familiar with the feeling of being accosted—of unwanted attention.
I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
Gabriel must notice the subtle change in me because his expression immediately softens. He slows even further, and before I know it, we’re standing still in the middle of a quiet alleyway lined with ivy-covered walls, a tiny fountain burbling nearby. The sound of water is soothing, but my thoughts are still a whirlpool of unease and confusion.
He tilts his head, his dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my chest tighten. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is gentle, the words coming slow, like he’s treading carefully around something fragile. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. Just know that I’m here if you do.”
