ELIJAH
“You’re not going anywhere.”I grab Gabriel’s arm and force him back into the chair. He grunts as he lands, clearly not expecting me to push back. “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
He scowls, fingers threading anxiously through those gorgeous waves I used to know like the back of my hand.
“I don’t know, Elijah. I honestly don’t know.”
I don’t buy it. Not for a second.
I push my plate aside and lean forward, steepling my fingers beneath my chin, giving him a chance to come clean—even though we both know I’m already prepared for war.
“Then let’s start with this…”
I pause, let the silence thicken. Let it press between us like a hand to the throat.
“What was Noah doing at your house in Spain?”
“You really want me to answer that?” he asks, arching a brow, smug.
I ignore the grin on his lips. I don’t flinch. Don’t blink. I lean in just enough to let him know I’m done with the games.
“Yes, I do. And spare me the X-rated version.”
That wipes the grin clean off his face. His expression tightens, guard snapping into place—just as I expected. He mirrors my posture—equal parts challenge and defense.
“Not that my relationship with Noah is any of your business,” he says, holding my gaze with those stubborn gray eyes. “But I flew him out to visit with me over the summer.”
“And how long has this relationship been going on? He lives in our building, you know?”
Gabriel’s eyes flicker to the glass doors leading out to the rooftop, his lips curling into that familiar smirk once again. “Of course I know. I met him at the community pool.”
“Ah, okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
I nod slowly and lean back, pretending I’m still in control of this conversation, pretending my pulse isn’t trying to beat its way out of my throat.
“And since when did you start using that amenity? Because, in case you’ve forgotten, we have a private pool”—I gesture toward the glass doors—“right through those doors.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, completely unfazed by the tension in the room. “Sí… but our pool doesn’t have a twink with sexy blue eyes and a tiny strip of material that barely covers his?—”
“Enough!”
My fist hits the table with a crack, silverware rattling like it’s afraid of me.
Gabriel smirks—because of course he does. My anger only amuses him. It always has. And I brace myself because I can see the next blow forming in his eyes before he delivers it.
“Do you like him, Elijah?”
His voice is syrupy-slow, dripping with mock curiosity.
“Is that why you are so interested?” He tilts his head, studying me like he’s reading the fine print on my soul. “Do you want to fuck Noah?”
The question is a knife twisting in my gut. I tighten my grip on his wrist, jaw clenched so hard it’s almost painful.
“You and I both know he’s not my type.”
Gabriel leans in, his eyes narrowing with a predator’s focus, daring me to deny the truth.
“Ah… maybe not.”
