I nod, but the words catch in my throat. I want to tell him how I’m feeling, but we made a deal. And despite what Gabriel said before, feelings change. Just because I’m feeling this way doesn’t mean he is. Gabriel seems content with our arrangement. No sense in disrupting that.
I plaster on a smile and grab his arm, pulling him toward another neon sign. “Come on, let’s check out this one.”
Gabriel follows, his hand brushing against my thigh.
I really wish he could touch me.
27GABRIEL
Irritation coils in my gut like a restless serpent as I glance at my buzzing phone, silencing yet another call from my father. It’s the fifth time this week, and not once does the man leave a message
Yet he keeps calling.
What the hell does he want?
I push aside thoughts of him, focusing instead on Cecilia. Tonight is supposed to be about her. About her big win. Seeing the lights illuminate her face as she smiles wide, her gaze filled with wonder as she takes it all in, leaves me breathless.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
We spend a little over an hour at the museum before hunger gnaws at all of us and we decide to grab a bite at the Sun Valley Station—a local twenty-four-hour diner.
Despite the lively atmosphere, a heavy tension lingers, suffocating the air around me after seeing my father’s call. But it’s just me. Everyone else seems to be having a good time.
Conversation flows freely between friends. Everyone’s smiles are genuine, their laughter infectious.
But I can’t shake this feeling that another shoe is going to drop.
Why does he keep calling?
I manage to make it through the meal, keeping mostly to myself when our waitress drops off the bill. Everyone reaches into their wallets to grab some cash, enough to cover their portion. But when Julio retrieves his wallet from his back pocket, a small envelope lands beside it.
He mutters a curse under his breath as he tosses a twenty onto the table, sliding the envelope over to me. “Sorry, meant to give this to you earlier,” he says, his expression troubled. “It slipped my mind.”
I reach for it, my fingers tracing over the thick paper to read the calligraphy style gold lettering. There’s no return address, but the envelope is heavy. The paper is a thicker quality than your run-of-the-mill mail.
I rip the top and tug the card free from inside.
A whoosh of air slips past my lips followed quickly by a curse.
Fuck this.
I barely get a glimpse of the first line before the words make my blood run cold and I throw it back to the table as if the fucking thing bites.
“What is it?” Cecilia asks, her hand reaching for the card.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of …
“It’s nothing,” I snap, my frustration bubbling over as I rise from the table.
I toss a few bills onto the table, enough to cover the tab, and head for the door. Cecilia calls after me, but I don’t bother to respond.
Stepping outside into the chilly night air, I close my eyes and try to steady my racing thoughts.
The others follow suit, their expressions grim as they join me outside. Kasey asks about our plans for the night, but my mind is elsewhere. Driving back to Richland now would be reckless—it’s late and I’m not in a good headspace. But the thought of spending another moment in this heavy silence is unbearable.
I see the way Julio and Felix are looking at me.
As everyone says their goodbyes, I linger beside my bike, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. Cecilia’s gentle touch breaks through my reverie, her concern evident in her voice.
