Ugh.
I don't have a fucking clue!
Back to square one. I still don't understand how at nineteen, almost twenty, I'm supposed to choose what I want to do for the rest of my life. Sure, I could always come back to school and get a degree in something else, but that makes my first degree pretty much worthless and a waste of money. I can't make a decision like that! My parents can choose for me. They are older, supposedly wiser, so they can choose how I'll spend the rest of my life.
Yes, that's what I'll do.
Before Gabe can text me back, I text him.
Me: I envy you.
His response comes in seconds later.
Gabe: That doesn't sound like a lazy day. And why?
Me: That stuff is kind of relaxing... Trying to decide on major. Maybe I should be a housewife since cleaning relaxes me. ha.
Gabe: hahaha. Dream big, Ryan. If you could do ANYTHING, what would you do?
To have sex with him again would be nice. Can't believe he left with a boner! I was horny too, but that's why I own a vibrator. I don't think that's what he meant though. Five minutes pass, and I'm still thinking.
Gabe: You're taking too long. There has to be something you want to do. Just in general. Not even as a job.
Me: Nope. I've got nothing.
Gabe: Don't think so much about it then.
Me: Easier said than done.
Gabe starts sending me texts with various activities. Skydiving, surfing, rock climbing, riding a motorcycle, learning a new sport, and so on. My answer to every single one is, sure, that sounds like fun. Then he sends me a message expressing his exasperation at my response. Everything does sound like fun though. I want to try everything, no one more than the other. For the rest of the evening, I try to think of a solution to my problem.
* * *
“Oh, no,” Viv mumbles, her eyes catching sight of someone behind me.
I turn to look and see her ex-boyfriend coming straight for us. Standing tall, I act as her shield.
“Babe, why haven't you been answering my calls? I miss you,” he starts, completely ignoring me.
“Oh, now you miss her? Maybe you should have appreciated her while you had her, you cheating bastard.”
“Stay out of this, Ryan.”
I shake my head. “Eh, I don't think so. Why don't you go find that girl you fucked on your couch? Viv is off limits to you now.”
He glares at me. “This has nothing to do with you,” he says, growing annoying.
“Actually, it does. Viv is my,” I point to my chest, “best friend. She has no ties to you. If that girl won't walk around your house naked and sleep with you anymore, looks like you better get familiar with that hand of yours. Be careful or you'll get carpal tunnel. Might want to let them take turns.” I turn, grab Viv's shoulder to swivel her and start walking away from him.
“That was great. His mouth was hanging open, like he couldn't believe what you said. If I didn't know you so well, I wouldn't have believed it. Thanks, Ryan.”
“No problem. That's what friends are for.”
We settle into our seats, and our professor starts teaching moments later. This is how Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday go. Meeting Viv in the morning, going to class, doing schoolwork, and me worrying to death over picking a major. The idea of learning a new language sounds appealing. That thought itself is shocking. Something appeals to me that isn't sex or boys or partying. This is something that will carry into my life after college. It excites me.
Learning Spanish wasn't all that exciting because my parents forced me into that. It was easy, and I picked it up quickly, but it wasn't an interest. But what if I could learn French? It's such a lovely language, and I could be an interpreter or something like that. The possibilities could be endless. The idea that I've finally picked something for my future, finally made a decision that really matters, bubbles within me, rising and blissfully infecting every part of me.
I just left one of my classes, wondering what I'm going to do for lunch when a text comes in.
Gabe: Meet me for lunch?
Me: Of course!
We've been texting here and there, but I haven't seen him since last weekend. He hasn't said when we're going for our lesson, and I haven't asked. Gabe texts me the place, and I go to my car to head that way. I've never been there before, but it's downtown and I've walked passed it before when Viv and I have gone clubbing. When I arrive, Gabe is already sitting at a booth. He slides out when he sees me, giving me a kiss on the cheek once I've reached him.
“Hey, Ryan.”
“Hey. How's your day been, Officer?” I smirk. Now that I'm not in any kind of trouble, he looks delicious in uniform. I can appreciate it so much more.
Gabe laughs, his large, wide torso rumbling from deep within his chest. “Smooth, considering that I get to take time to have lunch with you. I've been learning how to operate with a new partner. It's hard when you've been by yourself for a while. How's your day been?”
“Good. Just left my last class for today.” I pause about to ask about his partner, as the waitress comes with our drinks. Looks like Gabe already ordered that for us. My grin is too big when the glass full of my favorite orange drink is placed in front of me. “You sure do know the way to my heart,” I chuckle before taking a sip.
Gabe smiles. “I thought you would appreciate that.”
“I do.”
“Good. I'm happy I was able to see you today.” For some reason, that makes me suspicious. I narrow my eyes at him, and he laughs, holding his hands up. “I mean, I have wanted to see you again.”
“But,” I insert for him.
“But I sort of have bad news about this weekend.”
My shoulders sag, the pit of my stomach telling me that he's changed his mind about me meeting the men of his family. I can't say that I blame him. It's early, and I don't even know if we are dating or what we are exactly. There's something between us. Maybe.
“Stop thinking.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You think too much, Ryan. It's nothing bad, I promise. It's just I'm not going to be able to work out our lesson as I originally hoped.”
“What do you mean?”
His hands disappear underneath the table and by the motions of his arms, I know he's running his hands down his thighs. “We can still do it, but the new plan is that we go early, I teach you, and then you'll know the basics, even shoot for a good little bit by the time everyone else shows up. If it makes you uncomfortable or scares you too much or whatever and you want to go home, I'll still take you back. You could just hang out with us too. They won't mind.”
To avoid speaking too soon, I skim over the menu, looking, but not paying attention. I was honest when I said that I was kind of excited about it, but it was a feeling full of nerves. It would be trying something new, and I have complete faith in Gabe.
“Will you quit looking at that menu? Just because you're avoiding my gaze, doesn't mean I'm not here anymore. Tell me what you want to do, Ryan,” he says gently. “This is your decision, and we'll do it the way you want.”
“That sounds dirty,” I tell him. He chuckles, but waits for me to continue. I hate when he does that. It's hard to avoid answering when he's so obviously waiting for me to speak. “If you're certain about this and you're sure they won't mind, then yes. That's fine.”
“I'm absolutely certain.”
Scary pulses of anxiety move through me at both meeting people in his family and at what we'll be doing. These types of emotions, I'm not used to, so I shove them aside and focus on picking something for lunch as the waitress returns. We both order a sandwich, his a burger, mine chicken. I shift in my seat, trying to gain a sense of comfort somehow, and my knee brushes one of Gabe's. His eyes flick to me, and I smile.
“What time are we thinking for Saturday?” I ask.
“We get together around two, so we could be out there before one sometime? That gives us at least an hour to see how you do.”
> I nod. “What should I wear?” I don't know much about this, so I wouldn't know if anything special is required. My question sounds weird, even on my lips, but Gabe doesn't acknowledge it.
“Tennis shoes, jeans, shirt, bra, underwear, socks.” He grins at his additional obvious answers, and the massive urge to kiss him runs me down like a freight train. He looks outrageously adorable right now, even with the badge and uniform. I wonder if I'll get a kiss before I leave.
Rolling my eyes, I laugh softly. “Who put you in such a good mood, Officer O'Connor?”
“You did,” he says simply. So casually thrown into the air between us that my glass comes to a stop just as my elbow bends to bring it to my lips.
My face contorts into confusion. Me? As in Ryan? Don't get me wrong, I know there is a person, a real person underneath all of the boys, sex, and dirty comments that I like, but never have I ever considered that anyone would truly like her. I don't like her myself half the time. Why would anyone else? That girl feels too much, cares even more about my parents, and seems weak to me. Broken by the two people who are supposed to love her unconditionally. This girl that I am right now, hasn't made sexual advances towards Gabe, so he isn't talking about me as I am this moment. He's talking about her. The other me.
His lips part, but the waitress brings our lunch, interrupting him. When she walks away, neither of us touches our food. Gabe tilts his head, briefly waiting to see if I'll say something. I clear my throat first.
“I did?”
Gabe nods. “You.”
Hmph. Isn't that interesting. He watches me carefully, but I've got nothing to say. My mind is in overdrive trying to process this. And honestly, that means my mind is spouting sentence after sentence in one long, rambling mumbo jumbo. Gabe slides out of his seat, motions with his hand for me to scoot over, and then he sits next to me, pulling his plate over to this side of the table.
“What are you doing?” My question sounds forced, clamped, like I'm barely breathing enough to talk.
“Sitting next to you.” He shrugs before taking a bite out of his burger. His thigh is pushed against mine and when I haven't been able to stop looking at him in his new seat, he turns to say with a nod to my plate, “It's going to get cold, Ryan.”
“Why are you sitting next to me?” His action is throwing me off, utterly confusing my already lost mind. It's ridiculous that he's stumped me with this one action.
“Do you want me to move back?” He asks, resting a hand on my thigh.
I glance down to it, shaking my head. “That's not what I said.”
“What's the matter, Ryan?” he says softly. “You looked a little freaked out, so I wanted to sit with you. Plus, I can touch you this way.” He flashes me a smile, squeezes my thigh, and I giggle.
“You...I just...never mind.” I lean over to give him a little kiss. “Glad you're in a good mood.”
I finally join him in eating and in between bites, we continue our conversation. He asks me if I'm any closer on choosing a major, and I excitedly tell him about my plans. It still sounds weird to me. Gabe smiles while he listens.
“I knew you'd find something you'd be interested in.”
“Yeah, I just hope it sticks. Hey,” I say, suddenly remembering I meant to ask him about his partner. “Why has it been so long since you've had a partner? Do you like this one?”
Gabe has finished eating, but I still have some left. While he talks, he angles towards me some more, his hand still planted on my thigh with his fingers moving lazily. “My previous partner transferred to Charlotte for a higher position, and they just hadn't refilled his position here until now. And yeah, he's okay. Fredrick doesn't have much experience, but I think it'll work out. He's at a coffee shop a couple stores down, eating.”
Just as I take my last bite, Gabe looks down at his clock on his wrist. “Time to go?” I question.
“Yeah, just about. Be right back.” He grabs the check off the end of the table and goes to pay. I watch him walk away, wanting nothing more than to undress him, before taking one more sip of my drink and following him. Once he's paid, he turns and takes my hand. “I'll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks for lunch, Gabe.”
“You're welcome. I'm glad I got to see you.”
“I'm glad you got to see me too,” I say with a grin, causing Gabe to laugh. My car is right outside, so it's not a long walk. I search in my purse for my keys and unlock my door with the press of a button. Gabe reaches around me to open the door, but I don't get in. Instead, I turn to him, stepping closer until there's less than an inch between us. “Do I get a kiss before I go?”
“Do you want one?” He answers, clutching my hips, curling his fingers into my back.
“Yes.” There's no need for me to say more or anything other than that. Yes is the truth, and I don't see the point in saying otherwise.
Gabe smiles, looking dangerously sexy now as he eliminates the space between us. I've had plenty of kisses before, but none as addicting and consuming as Gabe's. His make me feel unhurried yet overwhelmed from the mere presence of his lips on mine. He's in control. The thought thrills me. Whenever I have sex, I'm usually the one in control and guys love it. But with Gabe, there's no mistake as to who is holding the power. He is.
My entire body slinks against him when he slips his tongue into my mouth. I grasp the back of his neck, half of my fingers diving into his hair. There's a tenderness, but a crazed hunger underneath as if he's trying to control himself. I pull his lower lip into my mouth, tugging it between my teeth, and his grip on my hips is iron-strong. My smile can't resist forming against his lips, breaking our kiss. His eyes open, those brown eyes examining carefully.
“See you Saturday?” It comes out as a question, my voice wavering slightly with an unbearable need to have him.
“Yes. I'll pick you up.”
I slide into my seat then and Gabe shuts the door after saying goodbye.
* * *
I was actually ready when Gabe came to pick me up. He drove out of town to this field in the middle of freaking nowhere. There's a couple of picnic tables and an old, wooden barn, but then it's wide open with surrounding fields. We're away from the highway and completely alone.
The gun is large, scary, and intimidating in Gabe's hand. I gulp. Gabe lays it down on a picnic table along with a couple others and an array of ammunition, plus three cans of soda. He glances over at me where I'm standing a few feet away with my arms crossed over my chest.
“Are you doing okay, Ryan?” He asks carefully.
“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” I hate that I can hear my apprehension in my voice.
Gabe gives me a hearty laugh. “I'm a cop. Of course I know how to use a gun.” He stops what he's doing and walks over to me, running his hands up and down my arms between my elbow and my shoulder. With his lips against my forehead, he soothingly adds, “If you don't want to, you don't have to.” Gabe looks down at me, waiting to see if I'm going to bail or not.
“I'm just nervous. That's all. Let's do this.” I have no confidence in myself at all, but I trust Gabe, especially with this.
He nods and leaves to go set up the target. There's a post about the height you would use for a fence, and he tapes it to a board that's nailed to the post. He also places two stacked cans of soda on top of it. Gabe walks back to me, grabs the shotgun, the largest of the guns on the table, and tells me to get the earmuffs.
My eyes widen, my jaw hanging down by my knees. “That's what you're starting me with? A shotgun? Are you sure?”
“Yes, stop questioning me.” He doesn't snap at me like I was expecting. Instead, his words are gentle and sure.
I grab the protective earmuffs and follow him. He stands a couple yards from the target and points with the tip of his foot where he wants me to stand.
“You're going to want to stand like this.” He has his left foot ahead of his right as if he's trying to use his legs to anchor his body better. It also tilts his body towards
the right a little. Once I assume the same position, he continues, showing me as he explains it. He lifts the shotgun so it rests on his shoulder. “This is how you'll hold it, okay? This part will rest right here on your shoulder, and you'll use your left hand to hold it right here.” I nod, my hands trembling slightly. “The earmuffs will help with the sound. Put those on. It's loaded, but the safety is on. I just want you to hold it, okay?”
I swallow hard again, but nod. Pushing my anxiety away, cramming it into a corner, I hold the gun like Gabe was. It's heavier than I expected. Gabe's voice is muffled as he tells me to hold it like I'm about to shoot it. He moves to stand behind me, his arm coming around to point at a green thing on the end of the barrel.
“You'll use that to aim. You want this to be a little lower than the spot you want to hit. I want you to aim at the cans. Are you sure?” He asks tenderly, reaching out to place his hand over my still shaking one on the barrel.
“Yep. Just let me focus for a second.”
With a long, slow drag of air, I close my left eye and concentrate on the bottom can. The gun's weight doesn't seem too heavy, and my nerves are forgotten, but it's not comfortable on my shoulder.
“It feels kind of awkward.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“On my shoulder, it feels weird, uncomfortable.” Gabe comes around, looks and tells me to move it inward a little. “That's better. What now? I'm ready.”
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