Page 35 of Finding Grey
EIGHTEEN
______
SEAN
“Does this mean I’m one of your fake boyfriends now?” Gabi asked as she continued to dig through the sales rack.
“I didn’t say I had a date with my boyfriend,” I told her as I trailed behind. “I only said I was going out. It’s Sunday. I’m entitled to Sunday off.”
She pulled a dress off the rack, holding it up in front of her as she turned to me. “What about this one?”
I pulled a face. “Orange?”
She pulled a face back and thrust the dress into my hands. “It’s coral.” Gabi’s brother was getting married in a couple of months and she’d roped me into helping her find the perfect dress for the wedding. She still claimed gay guys had excellent taste in clothes, although I’d never understood where the delusion came from. I dressed the same as every straight guy I knew. But I also never complained about how long she took, and I carried her bags for her while she dug for hidden treasures. Was that gay of me?
“Why did you fake a boyfriend for Dante, anyway?” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Unless you’re hoping to make him jealous.”
“I am not,” I insisted. “It happened the first time he asked me to have dinner with him. I panicked, and it just came out.” The invitation had surprised me at the time, but the true shock had come from how much I wanted to say yes. “I couldn’t possibly have dinner with Dante that night,” I said, shaking my head. “It would have been… perilous.”
Giggles erupted beside me. “Perilous? You say that word like you want to have sex with it.”
I let out an unmanly mewl. “Exactly.”
Laughing, we abandoned the sales rack to wander through the rest of the store. “But you’ve had dinner with him practically every night since then, right?” At my nod, she asked, “What made you say yes the next time he asked?”
“Technically, I offered.” The admission came with a heavy cringe, which deepened when she frowned at me. “I had to,” I cried. “He looked so forlorn. Like a sad penguin, but with sex appeal.”
“Uh-oh.” Gabi stopped walking. “You’re in serious trouble.”
Frowning, I shrugged. “Why?”
“In a few measly weeks you’ve gone from whining about how horrible he is, to referring to him as a sad penguin.” She pointed a single manicured finger at me. “I know how much you love penguins, Sean. That must mean you and he…” She waited for me to finish.
“Have been there and done that and I’m not falling for it again.” Except for the part where I already had fallen for him again. Holding up the small collection of dresses Gabi had chosen, I gestured to the nearby dressing room. “Go,” I ordered. “And try the silver one first.”
The suggestion brought a tiny smile to her face and she wiggled in excitement. “Okay.”
A long bench seat had been placed inside the entrance to the change room, and I dropped onto it with a heavy sigh.
Gabi headed into the first cubicle and closed the curtain behind her. “Do you think you’ll ever tell him the truth about who you are?” she asked through the thin wall separating us. “Now you’ve become friends, I mean.”
“I don’t know.” Half of me wanted to tell him everything, the other half wasn’t sure the resulting turmoil would be worth it. “Is there any point, when he’ll be gone in a few weeks anyway?”
The curtain pulled back and Gabi stepped out wearing a sexy shimmer of silver. “Melbourne is only a two-and-a-half-hour flight away, Sean. You could see each other again.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Tilting my head to one side, I ran a critical eye over the length of her. “And neither is that dress. It’s too flashy. The bride will never throw you the bouquet if you outshine her.”
Gabi turned to looked into the mirror at the other end of the short corridor, turning this way and that. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she agreed before disappearing again. “I’ll try the red.” The soft swish of a zipper opening sounded before she spoke again. “I suppose it’s not such a big deal if you don’t plan to ever see him again. I mean, like you’ve always said, it was one kiss backstage at a concert when you were kids. Not exactly a momentous occasion, except maybe for the part where it was your first kiss. And the part where you were kissing a famous rock star.” I heard evidence of a minor struggle as she fought with the tight clothing. “And the part where you were scandalously tossed out by his overbearing father.” She finished zipping up the red dress as she came out. “Can you tell I love every part of that story?”
I gave her a pointed look. “And maybe you could say it a little louder next time.”
“Oh, please, we’re the only ones here.” She waved a dismissive hand at me as she examined herself in the mirror.
“Also,” I started in a casual voice, “it’s two kisses now.”
Her head snapped up, all saucer-eyes and gaping mouth. “You made out with him again?” she cried. “When?”
“A few days ago.” With a loud groan, I dropped my head back against the wall. “It was totally not my fault, he started it.” Dear God, that sounded lame.