“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Papi! Too much info…” Ana groans, but her laughter bubbles through the protest.
Gabriel just grins and turns back to me, brushing away a loose strand that’s slipped from my braid.
“Are you ready, beautiful?”
“Ready,” I say softly.
And then—buzz.
My phone vibratesagain, insistent and unwelcome, pressing up from the depths of my pocket like a truth I don’t want to face.
23
ELIJAH
Alex stands by the window,the ocean spread out before him. Early light spills over his body, tracing the hard lines of his shoulders and the tight boxer briefs hugging his undeniably distracting ass. I catch myself staring—again. The puzzle pieces inked across his back stand out against his tan, each link a quiet reminder of what binds us together.
He leans forward, resting his forehead against the glass, tension pulling his shoulders tight. The sight sobers me. I wonder if he’s still upset with Gabriel. God, I hope not. Not today.
I run my hand across the cool sheets beside me—the spot where Gabriel slept last night. It happens to be Alex’s side now.
Shame and regret settle into my skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Not with Gabriel’s scent still clinging to the sheets and Alex just feet away—so close, so unaware.
I pull the covers up to my chest like it might shield me from the truth. But the weight in my chest doesn’t go anywhere.
Alex shifts, and the muscles in his back flex beneath the puzzle pieces. The ink twists with every breath he takes.
He’s quiet. Too quiet.
I want to call out to him, to say I’m sorry—to say it didn’t mean anything. But that would be a lie. It meanteverythingin the moment—and nothing I can live with now.
I close my eyes and press my face into the pillow Gabriel slept on, as if hiding my shame might erase what we did.
It doesn’t.
“Alex, love,” I call softly, pushing the white sheet aside, making room. “Come back to bed.”
But instead of joining me under the covers, he sinks down beside my hip. Close, but not quite close enough.
“I need to tell you something,” he says.
My stomach drops—not a slow, sinking feeling, but a freefall. I brace myself as his fingers find my hip bone, tracing a slow path over my abs, then lower, to my happy trail, where he lazily draws figure eights in the fine hair.
I try to breathe normally. I try to read his face. But all I can think is—please don’t say you know I betrayed you.Don’t make it real.
“What is it?”
The words scrape out of my throat. I have to force them past the lump swelling there, paranoia riding every nerve like wildfire.
He knows.
God, heknows.
Gabriel swore he made it through the airport unseen. Swore on his life. But now, thinking back to what Alex said earlier—how he thought he saw Gabriel boarding a plane—my confidence cracks, and doubt seeps through the fractures.
“I happen to know a little secret, Elijah.”
Oh, god. Here it comes.
