Page 34 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

He nodded solemnly. “With tears streaming down my cheeks.”

“Such a sensitive soul.”

“You remembered the drafty attic bedroom.” He grinned like he’d just won the lottery.

I quickly changed the subject, steering it back to my mom. “My mom wrote a book and it’s absolutely brilliant.”

“Absolutely brilliant,” Gabriel said with a smile. “Must run in the family.”

I could feel my cheeks blushing.

My mom watched us with an amused smile then stood up from the table. “I’m going to get us some more cappuccinos.”

My eyes implored her to stay,please don’t leave me alone with Gabriel, but she didn’t get the message.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You look beautiful.”His gaze lowered to my mouth. “Kissable.”

“Don’t say those things.” I drew a pattern in the spilled sugar on the table. When I realized I’d written a cursive letter G, I swept the sugar into my palm and emptied it into the ashtray.

Gabriel rested his elbow on the table and propped his head on his hand, studying my face. “You never called.” It sounded like an accusation.

“Annika is my best friend.”

“I know that. But we’re not together anymore,” he reasoned.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still her ex-boyfriend. So that makes it wrong.”

“Is it though?”

“Yes. Nothing can happen with us.” His knee brushed my thigh, and I jerked back like I’d just touched a hot stove. “Not now. Not ever.”

After a few seconds of weighted silence in which I stared at the table while his gaze flitted over my face, he placed his hand on the table, palm up and wiggled his fingers. “Give me your hand, Cleo.”

I shoved my hands under my thighs and shook my head.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Stop being a chicken. Just let me hold your hand.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re telling me I can’t be with you, so I’ll have to settle for a consolation prize. Come on,” he coaxed. “I just want to hold your hand.”

He made it sound like he’d perish and die if he couldn’t, so I placed my right hand on top of his left and told myself it’s no big deal, it means nothing.

But I could feel the current of electricity coursing through me like we were hooked up to a power grid.

Chemistry. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could fake. You either had it or you didn’t.

To my dismay, we had it in spades.

My gaze dipped to our joined hands. His long fingers and larger palm engulfing mine. His calloused guitar player hands rough against my softer skin.

Such a simple thing, holding hands, but so intimate.

Heat spread through my body and pooled in my belly, and inexplicably, I started to shake. He clasped my hand in both of his, holding it like it was a small, fragile bird he needed to protect.

I felt like I was going to cry.