I turn, surprised. He’s been sleeping since takeoff, stretched out in a big chair by a window with his hat pulled down over his eyes.
Absurd that he can sleep right now.
I frown. “You think?”
He yawns and drinks coffee from his paper cup, which is certainly cold since I noticed he brought it with him to the airport. “Definitely. The tabloids are like animals. If you don’t feed them on time, they misbehave.”
“Our teams have already got you staying at my hotel,” I say. “What else are they going to require?”
He coughs out a laugh. “Such an inconvenience to have me as your neighbor. I’m the one who had to cancel everything and fly across the country.” He drinks from his coffee. “I’m supposed to be writing an album,” he adds, mainly to himself.
“I also canceled everything and flew across the country today,” I point out, but check myself. He is going to be in New York for at least a few days. “But yes. Thank you. I’m glad it worked out that you could do this.”
He shrugs casually. “Whatever it takes to keep your rabid fans from dragging me through the streets, I suppose.”
I study him, feeling uneasy. Gabriel is a dose of chaos in my life. I have no idea what he might do or say from one moment to the next. It’s unpleasant, especially with everything spiraling out of control around me.
It’s not that I don’t trust him, exactly. It’s more like I can’t trust him.
“How do we do this when we arrive at the hotel?” I ask.
“Nothing complicated about it. We just walk in.”
“Next to each other, I guess.” I push a hand through my hair. “I’m used to staged photos. I understand how this works,” I say, trying to explain myself but failing.
“Don’t worry,” he tells me, cutting to the chase. “I won’t try to hold your hand.”
My cheeks heat. “Fine,” I say, eager to move on and not feel like such a dolt around him. “It will be late by the time we arrive. I’ll crash and meet with my people tomorrow, and see you in the evening? The pictures of us together arriving to the hotel should be enough to tide things over for a day, it sounds like.”
“For a day,” he agrees. “We have to be careful, though. If you keep only giving the tabloids a taste, you’re basically edging them.”
“Gabriel,” I say flatly. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to poke me or something, and I do not appreciate the distraction.
“They just get hornier and hornier for you,” he continues. “It’s a nightmare.”
“Let's avoid that. Make sure no one gets too horny around here.”
Gabriel winks and takes another drink of his coffee. “I’ll stay right on top of that.”
I swallow, refusing to let him get to me.
There is not time for a distraction like this in my life. There is not time for a tabloid scandal or a forced outing, and there is definitely not time for Gabriel.
I was so close to grabbing the title at the Australian Open. I know this is my year.
“Good news for me,” he says. “Fox got me a gig onLive & Late. They needed someone to fill in next Saturday, and the producers have always been trying to book me. Fox thought it would be a good chance to capitalize on the moment, steer the conversation back to my music from my dating life.”
“I’m glad this is going in your favor,” I say dryly.
“Might be a good time for you to strike new deals, too, capitalize on the attention,” he offers. “Once you’re ready.”
“That’s the kind of thing I prefer to pay other people to think about,” I tell him. When the discussion starts back up around the table, my eyes drift that way, and Gabriel tips back the last of his cold coffee.
“Anyway, I’m going to catch another nap before we land,” he says.
Napping after coffee. Okay.
I give him a nod. “Talk later.”
