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Chapter Twenty-Five

Gabriel

My fingers tremble as I knot my tie for the fifth time. No matter how many times I do it, I can’t get it right. I tighten it to my neck, and groan when I see it’s still not right. Once again, it’s too high, making me look like a damn clown. I put my hands on the vanity and lean forward, taking a deep breath. My nerves are going wild. So much so that I can’t do the basic things that I do every day. This dinner with my parents is not worth this stress. Yet… I’m going anyway.

Why? That’s what I keep asking myself, and either I’m refusing to see it or I’m just a glutton for their displeasure. Because I am going to this anniversary dinner, even if it’s sans tie.

“Everything okay in here?” Storm asks as he steps into the bathroom.

I shake my head, sighing.

“What can I help with?” he asks, sounding much closer.

I turn to face him, ready to go off and let out all my annoyance, but I’m rendered speechless when I see him. Heather grey suit that’s tailored to fit him perfectly, crisp white shirt, blue tie. My dick instantly fills, growing tight in my pants. I close my eyes, needing a moment to clear my head. This has been my reaction to him lately, regardless of what he’s wearing, because it seems my attraction to him has grown astronomically. Ever since watching him get himself off, I can’t stop thinking about making him feel like that.

Despite my attraction and thoughts though, I have not been in the mood to do anything sexual with him, thanks to all this stress, and because of that, I’ve been getting in my head about it and now things are weird all over again. I can’t talk about it because that feels worse. Everything just feels wrong and I don’t like it. I feel like I don’t know anything anymore, like I’m living in a bubble on autopilot. I can’t keep things straight, I’m forgetting what I’m doing. Misplacing things. It’s all one big chaotic never-ending circle.

“I can’t get my tie right,” I mutter, staring at my feet.

We have to leave within the next ten minutes if we don’t want to be late. To say my nerves are a wreck is putting it mildly.

“Here, let me help.”

Storm steps into the bathroom more and undoes my tie, then expertly does it back up. I keep my eyes on his face as he works, his brow furrowed as he focuses. His eyes are so bright in the light of the bathroom. I’ve never noticed how blue they really are. They’re absolutely beautiful with a light blue ring around the center that gets gradually darker outward. His eye lashes are thick, skin flawless. And my god, he smells so good. His fingers brush against my chest, and even through the fabric of my shirt, he’s searing my skin.

Without realizing what I’m doing, I reach up and circle my hand around his wrist. He pauses, eyes darting up to me.

“Thank you,” I say softly, feeling the slightest bit of calm wash over me with his help with this task. Or maybe it’s because he smells so damn good, or just because he’s so close and warm. Somehow he’s become a safe place for me, even if so many parts of him scare the hell out of me.

He gives me a smile, tightening the tie just a bit more.

“You’re very welcome.”

We hold each other’s stare for a long moment, until I snap out of it and drop my hand. He clears his throat and steps out of the bathroom.

“I’ll be downstairs,” he says.

I get my jacket from my room, make sure I have my phone and wallet, and then we’re out the door.

“So, you’re leaving tonight after the party?” I ask as I back out of the driveway and turn down the street.

“Yeah, I’ll be back Monday evening.” From the corner of my eye, I see him grinning at me.

“What?” I ask.

“You gonna miss me?”

I scoff. “I’m going to enjoy having the house to myself.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It is not.”

Though, I think it is. When he first told me about his trip, I felt nothing about it. That was before we started doing sexual things with each other. I’ll admit things have changed between us since then, and yeah, maybe I will miss him a little. But only because I’m used to having him around now.

“Whatever you say, Batman.”

I groan. “I never should have told you that story.”

“Oh, I’m glad you did.”

Storm fiddles with the radio the entire drive, not able to decide on one thing. We reach the restaurant with twenty minutes to spare, which gives me enough time to have a minor meltdown in the car. My heart is racing, I feel like I can’t breathe. I tear my tie off and Storm has to fix it for me all over again.

The way I’ve been freaking out lately is concerning. Maybe it’s time to consider medication. Or maybe I’ll be fine once this party is over because I’m sure this is the leading cause of my anxiety-induced insanity.

Also, maybe I should be concerned at how well Storm can keep me calm. Or maybe I’ll just take it for what it is and not think about it.

We walk into the restaurant together and I stop at the host podium. My hands are so sweaty and I may actually pass out on the way to the table. At least then I won’t have to go.

“Dane party,” I say, tugging on my tie. The hostess looks over her schedule.

“Leave it,” Storm says, and I drop my hand for just a second before I start chewing on my thumbnail. “Stop,” he says simply this time, and I drop my hand again, this time focusing on letting it hang there all awkward-like.

“Ah, yes. I see it right here. Follow me, please. The rest of your party is already here.”

“Great, we’re late,” I mutter as we follow the hostess.

“We are not late,” Storm says quietly.

“We’re the last ones here. That means we’re late.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Gabriel. Relax.”

I prefer it when he uses that deeper, more firm tone. Something in me responds to that. He isn’t using that tone with me now, though he was only a few seconds ago. Now, he’s trying to be comforting and I don’t like that.

I stop abruptly, turning toward him, I quickly say, “This is going to sound really weird, but I only have a few seconds, so please listen to me. If you see me doing something weird, acting out of place, use that voice on me to get me to stop.”

“Voice?” he questions carefully.

“Yeah, the one you used when you told me to leave my tie and stop chewing on my nails.”

There’s confusion on his face for all of a second before something lights up in his eyes and he nods. “You got it.”

I hurry after the hostess, who is still walking ahead, not knowing or not caring that we paused. We reach the table, which is in a back private room, and my mother sets eyes on me first.

“Thank god, Gabriel, I thought you—”

She stops when Storm moves to the empty seat beside the one I’m standing at.

“Can I help you?” she says to him with a raised brow.

“He’s here with me,” I say.

At least, I think I do, but the words apparently don’t come out of my mouth.

“I’m here with Gabriel. Storm Andrews.”

I can’t see him. I’m frozen and afraid to move, but I imagine he’s smiling politely. My mother’s eyes widen and my hands tighten on the back of the chair so hard the wood creaks.

“I’m sorry?” my mother says, looking at my father, who looks like he’s about to murder someone, before she looks back at me.

“You said I had to bring someone, so I brought my roommate.”

“Roommate?” my father asks, the same time my mother scoffs and says, “No, Gabriel. I told you to bring a date .”

The look on her face is… well, it’s something that would have had me cowering before, shutting down and internalizing. But Storm brushes his fingers along my thigh and I get this wave of bravery I didn’t know I was capable of.

“Then he is my date,” I say before pulling my chair out and sitting down. The second I do it, my head gets heavy and a wave of dizziness washes over me. But, hey, I did it.

Storm follows my lead and takes his seat, his calm and cool demeanor not faltering for a second. My ears are buzzing. I hardly make out the smirk on his lips, but I do see it there. Most of all, I feel it. I sense how calm he is, and I latch onto that energy for dear life. Because I may start crying at any second. This is a lot. This is too much. It’s the exact thing I feared before coming here.

I think I’m going to throw up.

How the hell is he not bothered by sitting at a table full of people he doesn’t know, knowing no one wants him here? How isn’t he crying right now?

The table is quiet for a very long time as I look over the menu, knowing I need to order a drink even though I never drink alcohol. The waitress comes over, breaking some of the tension. I don’t even know when the hostess left…

My father orders bottles of wine for the table, but I order a whiskey because I need something stronger than wine. You could never tell something is wrong by my father’s tone, but with the way my mother is glaring at me, it gives it all away.

The tension returns at an all-time high when the waitress leaves. It’s choking me. The silence lasts a few moments before my brother, Winston, opens his mouth to speak.

“So, I have some news,” he says brightly, looking around the table. “Come the new year, I will be starting my own practice.”

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful,” my mother says, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s still annoyed with me. At least her gaze has moved and the likeliness of her making my head explode has dwindled.

“It is, actually,” he answers, reaching for his glass of water.

“Of course it is,” my father adds. “I’m so proud of you. Great job. Soon enough, the rest will follow.”

“Except Gabriel,” my mother adds, reaching for her water. I flinch and hate myself for it. Just the way my name comes out of her mouth is triggering. It’s an indication that more is to come.

“I’m happy with what I do,” I comment quietly.

“Happiness doesn’t pay the bills,” is my mother’s response, which is tighter than usual.

The waitress returns with a helper and our drinks. Those who want wine, get poured wine. I get my whiskey and take a mouthful, hissing at the burn and holding back a gag, because oh my god, that is disgusting. There’s a hand on my thigh, and when I look down, I see it’s Storm’s. He gives me a little squeeze, and I put the glass down and take a slow breath. I put my hand on top of his, curling my fingers under his palm. And we stay like that until all hell breaks loose.