A polite gesture.
Turn around, damn it.
The sun catches the plane’s wing at an angle that blinds me. I squint, blinking against the glare, but it’s no use—I can’t see his face. All I get is his shape.
“The gay drama continues…” Ana’s voice snaps me back, startling enough that I almost drop the phone. “Anyway, let me set you all straight.”—she pauses, then laughs—“Oh my god, that’s funny. Likethat’sever gonna happen!”
She sounds far too pleased with herself as she falls into a fit of laughter, making me wonder just how long she’s actually been awake.
“So, let’s see…” she continues, picking up exactly where she left off. “Have I seen Papi this morning? Normally that would be a big N-O, because it’s stupid o’clock in the morning and everyone is still sleeping—well, except for the gay population, apparently.” She pauses, letting that sink in. “But! The answer to your question is actually yes. He was the first to call. And do you know what time that was?” Her voice rises. “GAY-O’CLOCK!”
I pull the phone away from my ear as she cackles into the receiver.
“Papi’s always been an early riser, so that’s no surprise. And I really need to stop talking about early risers because I donotwant to think about anything rising this early in the morning.”
For heaven’s sake. I nearly choke on my own saliva but manage a weak chuckle instead. By now, her bluntness shouldn’t faze me, but just like her father, she always manages to stay one step ahead. And somehow, it’s always when I least expect it.
“Papi FaceTimed me a little while ago, asking if he could take Emilee and me out for breakfast. Of course, Emilee is still sleeping,” she says, breaking off mid-sentence to yawn. “Obviously gay time begins earlier than straight time… so there’sthat.” She delivers the line like she’s just made a profound point. “Anyway, we settled on lunch.”
The door to the plane slams shut just as she finishes her ridiculous rant—because of course it does.
“I think he was with Noah,” she slips in, completely unaware that she just stole the breath right out of me. “Looked like they were walking through Central Park. I didn’t actuallyseeNoah, but Papi had that stupid grin—you know, the one he always gets when they’re together.”
“At this time in the morning?” I wonder aloud. Which means if he’s in New York, then that wasn’t Gabriel I just saw boarding the plane.
For Christ’s sake, my guilty conscience is really fucking with me.
Ana drags out a long, theatrical sigh. “Going back to what I said before… gay time, straight time? Remember? Early risers and all that? Are you even listening?” She slurps what I assume is coffee before launching back in. “Obviously, if they’re walking in the park at this ungodly hour, Noah must be an early riser too… hence the silly smile on Papi’s face. Are we on the same page here, Mr. J?” She punctuates her point with another overdramatic sigh.
“Got it. Pretty sure we’re on the same page, sweetheart. Thanks for the mental image,” I reply dryly. “Look, my luggage is about to arrive. I’m gonna call your father and get his ass up.”
“OMG, pleeease keep that to yourself.” She laughs, now buzzing with energy. Honestly, she’s like a walking double shot of espresso—with a side of attitude. But it makes me happy just knowing she’s happy.
“Alright, sweetheart. Tell Emilee I’ll call her later.”
“Alrighty,” she sings, suddenly fully awake and ready to take on the world. “Fingers crossed, Noah comes drama-free. I’m telling ya… you gays are exhausting.”
20
NOAH
“Are you fucking him?”The words spill out sharp and brittle—too loud in the quiet hallway.
Gabriel freezes mid-knock. His fists hover inches from my door, knuckles pale, shoulders rigid. Slowly, he turns.
“Well, hi sweetheart.” His voice is too casual, but I hear the breathy sigh of relief underneath it.
I fold my arms across my chest, the weight of everything I’ve been feeling crashing into me all at once. Anger, confusion… and god, disappointment.
“I asked,” I say, steadying my voice even though my pulse is tripping over itself. “If you’re fucking him.”
I want him to deny it, to make it make sense. But I also kind of want him to hurt a little. Like I am.
Gabriel reaches for me, but I take a quick step back. No way. Not yet.
He lets his hands fall, then shoves them into his pockets, stepping back like he knows he’s one wrong move from meslamming the door in his face. “No, beautiful. I’m not sleeping with Elijah. Can we talk upstairs?”
I don’t answer him. I just swipe my keycard, push the door open, and slip through the narrow gap, leaving barely enough room for my own body, let alone an invitation. Maybe I’m hoping he’ll take the hint and walk away.
