Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Gabriel

I wait by Marta’s car as she gathers her things to get out.

“Morning,” I say when she reaches me. She gives me a skeptical look.

“What has you so happy?”

“I’m not any happier today than any other day,” I answer as we walk.

“Liar.” She sips from her travel mug. “What did you do? Buy a new mop?”

I laugh at that, and she glares at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

“Who are you, and what did you do with Gabriel?”

I roll my eyes as I swipe my card. The doors slide open and we walk into the building.

“I am Gabriel, for the record.”

Her eyes are narrowed as she watches me, but she shakes her head and we get to chatting about her upcoming plans for the weekend.

“Will you be going to your parents’ for dinner on Sunday?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I still don’t have a date for the dinner, and that was the issue last week, so it doesn’t seem like a good idea. However, skipping isn’t a good idea either.”

“How silly to get that angry over a date?”

It’s true. No one would know that my mother had to cancel a seat except for the people in the restaurant. Whatever friends she’s inviting must already know her defective child muffed up his wedding.

“Storm offered to go.”

She gasps. “He did? Are you going to take him?”

“You’re joking, right? My parents would have a heart attack.”

“It would be good revenge.” She nods before taking another sip of her coffee.

“That’s what he said,” I mutter.

“Let’s talk about it later?”

“Let’s not.”

“We’re talking about it later.”

She turns down the hall to head to the ER and I turn the opposite way to head to the lab.

“Morning, Gabriel,” Wendy says, and not in her normal chipper tone. Ever since I told her I was seeing someone, she hasn’t been as friendly toward me. Not rude, but more reserved, I suppose. Not that it matters to me. The less she talks to me, the better. I just wish people wouldn’t get so upset just because I don’t want to be friends with them. I am allowed to choose who I want to be friends with, right? Why can’t people understand that I just want my space?

“Morning. How was the night shift?”

“Boring, surprisingly.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

She gives a tired smile before hiding a yawn behind her hand, and then she’s out the door. I settle in and see nothing in the queue. I double check that everything is stocked and work on wiping things down.

A couple of samples are dropped off about an hour into my shift, and I drop the blood samples into the centrifuge to get them started after checking them into the system. There are a few swabs that I put into the machines as well, then go back to the computer to double check things as I wait for them all to finish. The science behind all of this is what fascinates me the most about my job. Seeing the bacteria growth on samples that come from people is definitely disturbing and gross, but it’s also so cool. Not having to speak to people often also helps.

It’s quiet today, which gives me too much time to think. And of course all I think about is Storm and the things he’s done to me the last couple of days. I’ve gone into his room every night and every morning since that first time. He’s taken care of me with so much enthusiasm. Holy crap, it’s so good, but I can’t help but wonder if I should do something in return.

This was supposed to be for money, and somehow… not a single video has been made. What the hell are we doing here? The more I think about the whole thing, the more unsure I am about it. When I was angry and desperate, the videos sounded like a great idea. Now? I’m not so sure I want thousands of people seeing me naked. Why was I ever okay with that in the first place? Maybe because the money is tempting.

Knowing none of this is going to leave me alone until I get it off my chest, I send Storm a text.

Can we talk?

After I send the text, I stare at my phone for a few moments, waiting for a response, but when I don’t get one, I put my phone down and go check on my samples. I swap stuff out and put results into the system for the doctors to look over. Someone’s pregnant, someone has strep, someone is completely fine, and someone else is severely dehydrated. It’s not hard to drink water, buddy.

My phone dings, and I finish entering information before I stop to check it. The last thing I need to do is mess up my job over a text.

I think that’s a good idea. What time will you be home?

Around 5:30.

I’ll be here

It’s steady until lunch. I meet Marta at our usual spot. She’s already sitting with our food. If she can duck out a few minutes before me, she gets everything ready for us. I appreciate it because it saves me time.

“I figured it out,” she says, pointing at me with her fork as I take a seat.

“Figured what out?”

“You got laid.”

My eyes widen. “H-how did you come up with that?”

She gasps, hands slapping on the table. “You did! Oh my god, Gabriel, tell me all about it! Who was it?”

I hold her gaze and I see the moment she puts two and two together. Her eyes get as wide as saucers, her mouth opens wider than I thought possible. I think I see her tonsils.

“Shut! Up! It was Storm?” she hisses, leaning forward.

“Can we not?”

“Oh no. No, no, no. You are going to tell me all about this.”

“No, I’m not.” I reach for the food she set aside for me and pull it toward me. It’s a cheeseburger, some fries, and a bottle of water.

“Oh, yes, you are. Right now. Come on. Let’s go.” She taps the table. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to say. It just sort of… happened.”

She squeals, tapping her feet on the floor.

“What exactly is it that happened?”

“I don’t know… stuff.”

I pick up my burger and take a bite, hoping my chewing will make her back off. Of course, it doesn’t.

“What sort of stuff? Don’t skimp, Gabriel. I’m a doctor. I’ve heard and seen it all. I bet you’re the bottom, aren’t you? You totally are.”

I choke on my food, reaching for my water to wash it down.

“I am not.”

She narrows her eyes, quiet for a few seconds before saying, “You didn’t get that far.”

How in the world does she know these things? How does she read me so easily?

“Just oral, am I right?” she adds.

I shake my head and focus on my food because I am not having this conversation with her, especially not here and while I’m trying to eat. She goes on and on with her theories while I try to enjoy my lunch. I try to drown her out, but it does no good. I hear everything she says, and it has me thinking about Storm and the way his mouth feels. I’m hard as a rock in the hospital cafeteria. It’s awful.

“Okay, okay,” I relent when she just won’t stop. My head falls back on my shoulders and I glance up at the high ceiling, blowing out a breath before meeting her eyes. “Yes, it was only oral. He did it to me. That’s it.”

She scoffs. “Now that’s rude, Gabriel. You couldn’t even return the favor? I know you have better manners than that.”

My cheeks heat. “I just… I don’t… It didn’t come up, okay?”

“Come up?” She gapes. “Come up ? What does that even mean? It isn’t a discussion. You just do it. You see he is hard, you put it in your mouth.”

“Marta!” I hiss under my breath. “Don’t say that.”

“Fine.” She throws her hands up, frowning at me. “But this will be good for you.” She gets to her feet. “You’re too tense all the time. You need to relax a little, and by the way you look today, I’d say this is working. So make sure you return the favor so he doesn’t stop doing whatever he’s doing.”

She pats me on the shoulder as she walks away, trash in her other hand, laughing under her breath.

If I don’t return the favor, he’s going to stop?

I suppose that makes sense, and I already considered that being an issue. But what I need to do is focus on the point. On why we started doing this anyway—money. Storm is very vocal when I’m in his room. I’m sure if he wanted me to return the favor, he would just say it.

The rest of the day goes by way too slowly. I can’t wait to get home and talk to him about this before things get out of control. Just to be safe, I send him a text to let him know it needs to happen.

Storm is pulling two bottles of water from the fridge when I walk into the house.

“Just in time. I made dinner.”

“You made dinner?” I ask, pausing to close the door.

“Cooked on the grill,” he amends.

Oh, okay. That’s safe. He cooks on the grill well, something I’m not great at. I let him cook dinner inside once and it was a disaster. Best he doesn’t attempt it again. I close and lock the door, then head into the kitchen.

“Barbeque chicken, roasted veggies, and potatoes.”

“This looks delicious,” I say as I pull out the chair and take a seat. The plates are already set on the table, still steaming. He puts the water bottle in front of me, then sits across from me.

“I know this is going to be an uncomfortable conversation, but it’s important we have it.”

“I agree,” I say, cutting a piece of chicken. It’s juicy and still hot.

“We’d discussed doing this for the money. I’ve been losing subs from lack of interesting content and you need money for when I leave.”

Yeah, for when he leaves… because that’s going to happen one day.

“Extra money now wouldn’t hurt either,” I add, just to make a point that it’s needed and that it’s why I’m doing this.

“Right,” he says, stabbing a potato. “I’ll admit I’ve gotten a little carried away, and I apologize for that, but I do think it was good for us to…” He tilts his head back and forth. “Get to know one another a little before we go on camera. The better we look together, the more money we will make.”

“Good idea.”

I hope he isn’t going to tell me he’s going to stop—because I don’t want him to stop.

“I marked up the contract we’d signed and left it on your desk in the office. Figured after we eat we can go in there and look at it together. It’s just amending a few things and adding a few things. To safeguard us both.”

I’d done a lot of research on relationships like this—of the sexual variety—and finding a contract wasn’t difficult. What was difficult was adding in the business terms and payment options. It took some time, but I managed to get it all together. Of course, that was before we started doing things. I hadn’t anticipated it going this way… It’s definitely not an issue, but we need to adjust the contract to reflect what we’re doing.

“Smart thinking.”

I bite into the roasted carrot. So good. Sweet with a smokey flavor.

“I also think we need to be more specific about content, which isn’t something I’d thought about earlier because… well, I’d assumed you had experience and I overlooked it.”

“Specific how?”

“Like a list of dos and don’ts. What you’re willing to do and not willing to do.”

“How will I know if I’ve never done them before?”

I pause with the fork halfway to my mouth, feeling stupid for asking that question. I didn’t mean for it to come out, it just did. I’m too comfortable with him—it’s getting dangerous.

“That’s the thing.” He puts his fork down and levels me with a stare that makes me nervous. I put my fork down next and take a sip of water. Storm’s about to say something I’m not going to like. I can tell by the look in his eyes. “We really need to communicate, Gabe. It’s the only way this will work. I know it’s hard for you, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on in your head at all times, we’re going to screw this up. And I don’t just mean money, I mean us. This… arrangement. I don’t want that.”

Wow, okay. That wasn’t bad at all. It almost seems like he cares.

“Neither do I,” I admit softly.

“So you will, then? Communicate?”

I take a deep breath, reaching for my water and take a long sip.

“I will try my best, as I have been doing.”

“Okay, cool. Yeah, that’s all I can ask. So, I printed out a list of things. For you to look over and check off.”

“No need,” I answer, digging back into my food. It goes quiet, and I look up to find Storm staring at me, confused.

“No need because…”

“Because yes to everything.”

“Yes… to everything?” he asks slowly. “What?”

I put my fork down again, folding my hands together and placing them on the table.

“I’m going to be very honest right now, and it’s not going to be easy for me, so please just listen.” He nods, settling into his seat and giving me his full attention. Storm is such a good listener. “What I’ve experienced these last few days with you in your bedroom has been amazing. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this my whole life, and I know that probably sounds silly to you, but I realize I’ve lived a sheltered life. While I’m enjoying this and not letting my head get in the way, I wanna go for it. Full steam ahead. I’m sure something will happen at some point to make me slow down, maybe even freak out, but isn’t that normal? That’s what normal people do, right?” He nods carefully. “So, while I’m on this track, I’d like to continue along.”

“You’re serious?” he asks after it’s been quiet for a few moments.

“Very.”

His grin could rival the Cheshire cat’s. “Then I have some great ideas.”