by Sierra Riley
“Mmmmph.” Briar’s sleepy noise was muffled by his arm as he yawned into his elbow, then turned to gaze at Gabriel through sleep-heavy eyes.
The passionate sex last night was still on Gabriel’s mind, but he offered a smile instead of a good-morning kiss. They didn’t seem to be at that stage yet—or ever, he quickly reminded himself. From what he’d heard, Briar was no more a fan of relationships than he was.
“How’d you sleep?” Gabriel asked.
Briar yawned again, sitting up straight and rubbing his face. “Great.” His voice was rough with sleep. “You?”
“Like a log.”
Briar chuckled, his voice catching before he cleared his throat. He slipped out of bed, still naked.
This time, Gabriel turned his gaze away for a moment. “Still want to go out to London today?”
“Do you?”
Gabriel really did. He was sure that now that he was getting work, someone would fly him out to London again, but this was his first time here. He wanted to see a bit of the city. “If you wouldn’t mind,” he answered.
Briar nodded. “Done. You better get changed. Meet me at the tube station entrance in half an hour.”
Only half an hour to get down to his room and get changed and ready? Gabriel was up like a shot, patting down the bed for his clothes. Oh yeah, and he had to return the jeans he was wiggling into…
“’Kay,” he answered, raising his hand in a quick wave. Once he had shoes and socks on, he strode out of Briar’s room and took the staircase down a couple floors to his own floor.
Nobody caught him in the hallway, mercifully. As he slipped into his room, Gabriel grinned to himself.
It was a postage stamp compared to Briar’s suite, but at least they hadn’t had to double up and share rooms. That would have sucked, especially with the hookups some of the guys took home every night.
He picked quickly through his bag to choose one of his own outfits—just simple skinny chinos, a collared shirt and matching tie, and a cowl neck sweater to layer under his winter jacket. March wasn’t the warmest month in either New York City or London.
After dropping off the last of his clothes and accepting his praise and congratulations for representing the brand at the after-party the previous night, he strode briskly out of the hotel lobby.
The tube station was just next door, so it took him just a couple minutes to make his way into the mezzanine and spot Briar.
Briar always looked so professional—he usually dressed in elegant and expensive suits. This time, he’d dressed down a suit jacket with dark jeans. He looked more like your average hot, young, rich guy.
Gabriel grinned and raised a hand. “Hey. Ready to go?”
“I’m ready. Here, take this.” Briar passed him an Oyster card, and Gabriel nodded his thanks. He followed Briar’s lead to step through the stiles, then followed him down the tiled hallway toward London’s version of the subway.
It wasn’t totally unfamiliar to him, but there were a few interesting differences: the names of the lines, for one, and how clean the stations looked in comparison to his usual city haunts.
On the other hand, the fabric seats of the train, once they stepped onto it, made him wrinkle his nose and choose to stay standing. “How long is the trip?”
Briar looked amused, like he’d noticed Gabriel’s moment of reluctance to touch the germ magnets that were this train’s seats. “Ten minutes.”
Gabriel had been certain Briar would act like a pickpocket magnet, what with the way he looked like the most important guy in the room wherever he was. Here, though, he was much more casual, gripping the same pole just under Gabe’s hand.
Their wrists brushed whenever the train lurched.
Gabriel shivered, closing his hand around the Oyster card in his pocket until the plastic edges dug into his fingers. Act like friends, he reminded himself in order to resist the urge to deliberately step a little closer.
Briar’s gaze wandered over the carriage, so Gabriel looked away to scan the maps. That was a nice touch—maps over the seats showing the lines, even if he had no fucking idea where they were in relation to anything else on the map.
It only took a few minutes of squinting before he matched up the stations they were passing with those on the map.
“Not a bad system here,” he commented, breaking the silence between him and Briar.
Briar kept his voice soft as he answered, “It’s rather popular with millions of people.” His eyes twinkled. “Most of whom speak quietly on the tube.”
Gabriel blushed. Yeah, so he was a little American, but he couldn’t help that. He shifted his stance, catching a couple guys near the end of the carriage watching him.
Did people recognize him? Or Briar?
Gabriel stood a little straighter, following Briar out when their stop was announced.
The blast of cold air down the escalator made him curl his fingers into the sleeves of his jacket, playfully hunching behind Briar when he turned to get a glance at him.
“It’s brutal,” Briar laughed. “And hell on the hair.” He reached out to ruffle Gabriel’s hair, giving him an obnoxious grin.
Gabriel tried to duck out of the way, groaning and then head butting his arm before stepping down one stair on the escalator. “You dick.”
“The wind did it already. I was just fixing it,” Briar smirked.
Gabriel took out his phone to quickly fix his hair while he could, stepping off the escalator and following Briar to the exit.
“Tap out,” Briar cued him and Gabriel quickly glanced up from his phone, then rummaged for the plastic card to get out of the station.
“Well, that’s kind of useless.” Gabriel pocketed his card again, then his phone. “Why’d you have to do that?”
Briar shrugged. “It just works differently. You pay per zone, if I remember right, not a flat rate.”
“Oh.”
Gabriel followed Briar to the street outside, glad to be out of the depths of the underground and back into fresh, sunny, warm March air. Thank God London was having such unusually clear weather this weekend.
From his first glance at the neighborhood, it didn’t look like the kind of place Briar would spend a lot of time. Honestly, Gabriel was surprised he even knew about it.
The street stretched out ahead of them, all souvenir shops and boutiques sprawling across the sidewalks. Tourists, punks, and annoyed-looking hipsters skirting around the slow-moving crowds made up most of the crowd walking down both sides of the sidewalk and even the street sometimes.
People cut across the street to the station, so he stepped out of their way and started walking down their side of the street. “This way?”
“Sure,” Briar nodded. “Food’s this way. I like the vegetarian and vegan choices around here.”
Gabriel cast him a startled glance. “Are you veggie?”
“Yep.”
Gabriel hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. “Always been?”
“Yeah, for a long time now.” Briar kept his hands tucked in his pockets. “I initially did it as part of a diet back when I was modeling, actually.”
“You never mentioned on Instagram… or anything.” Before he even finished the sentence, Gabriel realized that sounded a little stalkerish, and his cheeks heated up. He tried to stay casual.
“No. People get weird about it sometimes,” Briar laughed, that deep note ringing out freely. “People can guess if they stalk my food photos close enough…”
Gabriel snorted. “Ain’t no one got time for that.”
Briar laughed again, then gestured around. “What do you think?”
“It’s… not your scene, is it?”
Briar chuckled. “No. There’s more… upmarket… veggie places in town in London. It’s the boutiques we’re here for. They’re more your style.”
“Ohhh.” Gabriel perked up. He’d submitted his paperwork that morning to Julius before scurrying off for the station. “I’m going to get paid soon, right?”
&nbs
p; Briar snorted. “I’m buying it. The agency is, rather. You’re our darling now… your image has to match.”
Hearing Briar tell him he was their up-and-coming star did far more for Gabriel’s ego than hearing a thousand random compliments from the army of journalists, editors, interns, and makeup artists who never left him the fuck alone.
“Cool,” Gabriel concluded, nodding slightly. Briar was right; he did have to look the part now. “How are my bookings?”
“Ask Julius. I don’t know,” Briar scoffed. “I just know I sold you to at least half a dozen of my buddies.”
“One at a time, I hope.” Gabriel winked.
Briar’s laugh was quick and startled. “Yeah. Jesus, you’ve got a filthy mind.”
Gabriel just cast him one more quick hooded gaze and model pout, then turned abruptly to walk into a clothes boutique with menswear in the window.
He’d expected Briar to hang back and watch, but instead, Briar instantly started picking through the racks to find the couple acceptable items there. Sometimes he held them up and Gabriel held still, and then he’d nod and hand over the hanger or shake his head and put it back.
It was a bit surreal for Gabriel not to even look at the price tags as they moved from shop to shop. In the third store, a little down an alley, the guy behind the counter was busy stapling together a pile of papers when they entered. When he caught sight of their faces, he squeezed his stapler so hard it got stuck closed.
Gabriel breezed past the counter to pick up a couple of jackets, holding them up for Briar’s opinion.
They only spent a few minutes in the store, but they found a pair of jeans that looked like they could be perfectly altered, a dark leather jacket, and a sweater that was perfect for layering this time of year.
“H-hi,” the clerk breathlessly greeted them when Gabriel carried up his armful of clothing to add another bag to the two already in his hands.
Briar coolly nodded, waiting for the items to be rung in.
From the quick glances the guy kept sneaking up at them, it wasn’t hard to tell he knew who they were, and the knowledge made Gabriel stand a little taller.
The clerk was kind of cute, but underdressed. He really needed to learn to accessorize. “Those are nice bracelets,” Gabriel pointed out the leather wristbands under the counter. “The black one would go with your outfit today.”
“Oh.” He looked startled, but then he cast a quick smile. “Yeah, it would. Thanks. I always feel too gaudy.”
Briar snorted. “Oh, honey, it’s not gaudy unless it’s pink and sparkly. And even then…”
Gabriel laughed, nodding in agreement.
The clerk handed over the bag and announced the total, and Briar paid with a careless swipe of his credit card, and then they were back out on the street.
“Breakfast? I’m going to faint if I have to watch one more passerby get starstruck by you,” Briar teased.
Gabriel stared around the sidewalk, then looked back at Briar, raising his brows.
“Oh, you’re bad at noticing it. You haven’t gone full-out diva yet,” Briar winked. “Come on, this way. Ice cream cookie sandwiches. You’re not allowed to count calories today. Tomorrow, you can worry about that shit.”
Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but his stomach was grumbling. Christ, he hadn’t had enough calories in about a week.
“That sounds… incredible. Ice cream?”
“Vegan ice cream.”
That sounded slightly healthier, at least. Gabriel was sold. “Yes, sir,” he agreed with a quick nod. He followed Briar down the street, trying not to stare at the open-air market they passed on their way to a bridge.
“Oh, cool.” He peeked over the edge to see how high they were. Not that far up. “It’s a legit… canal.”
“A legit canal,” Briar laughed, their sides brushing as he leaned next to him. “Yeah. The locks are just there.”
“Locks?”
“Oh, boy. I’ll show you, if the timing’s right. Let’s get a sandwich and see if we get lucky. Come on, this way.”
Gabriel couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. He stuck by Briar’s side as they strode into the little market. He liked these hole-in-the-wall places.
When he got the sandwich on a flimsy paper plate, Gabriel laughed but accepted it and grabbed a napkin. He let Briar pay for this, too, and followed him back out and around the building. Even the buildings looked old, with cobblestone courtyards and stairs. The modern signboards hung outside restaurants and shops contrasted with the architecture.
“It’s kind of higgledy-piggledy around here.”
Briar almost choked on his cookie sandwich. “What…? Higgledy-piggledy?”
“It’s—shut up,” Gabriel protested, focusing on eating instead of defending his word choice. He followed Briar, elbowing him when he heard him still laughing around his ice cream sandwich.
The cool ice cream wasn’t even that bad on a chilly morning. It was warming up, the sun burning off the mist and clouds and soaking into his bones.
He leaned next to Briar, careful to only rest his arms against the brick wall so he didn’t have to dry-clean the rest of his clothes later.
It took him just another minute to finish off the sandwich, he’d been so hungry. The intense sweetness of cookies and ice cream made him almost dizzy after a week of scarce and healthy foods.
“Good, isn’t it?” Briar was licking his fingers.
Gabriel’s gaze fell to the spot of ice cream on Briar’s lip. Unfortunately, Briar swiped it off with his tongue, stealing the chance from Gabriel to be…
Romantic?
Fuck, no. This couldn’t turn into something like that. They were just hanging out as friends—or boss and his favorite new employee.
Gabriel found a can to toss his trash into, then returned to Briar’s side, leaning against the brick.
“Look, there’s a boat,” Briar pointed out. “We can watch.”
Gabriel’s eyes sharpened with interest as he watched the crew work on the boat. They maneuvered the narrowboat into the box, then shut the doors and drained it. In his ear, Briar murmured quiet explanations of the principles at work.
“Huh,” Gabriel murmured, watching the boat sink in its little stone and metal prison. When it was all the way down, the doors swung open. “And people just go around doing that?”
Briar laughed. “Not as a commute, but yeah, some people do live on boats.”
“Like in California, only they do that on the ocean.”
“Yeah.” Briar pushed himself away from the wall again and slid his arm around Gabriel’s shoulder. “You know, not everything compares to the US.”
“Ohhh, like you’re not American, too,” Gabriel scoffed.
“I have dual citizenship.”
“What?” Gabriel exclaimed. “Wait, how?”
“One of my parents was British. I spent some time here. And they like giving passports to guys like me. It’s useful, for business purposes.”
Oh. Gabriel rubbed his chin, then nodded. “Cool. I forget how billionaires and shit live sometimes.”
“Don’t say that. You might be, too, someday soon.”
Gabriel’s jaw nearly dropped for the second time in under a minute. He wasn’t correcting him. Holy shit, was he that rich? In any case, Briar had millions.
And he thought Gabe was good enough to be one, too?
Fuck, yes. His career was looking up.
They went for noodles after that, talking idly about their favorite moments from the past week. Briar had attended most of the shows—some womenswear, as well as menswear—and had opinions on everyone. He didn’t share most of them directly, but he was able to subtly convey his less-than-impressed thoughts on some models with his expressions.
Gabriel found it hilarious. Briar had done so well as a model from his classically blank, beautiful model pout, but there was so much life in his face. He just usually kept it hidden behind his CEO persona.
By the tim
e they walked back toward the tube station, their hands were brushing each time they swung their arms, and neither of them was pulling back from the touch.
Gabriel almost dreaded the return to reality—the shuttle ride, then the flight to New York City, and its grungy, familiar streets.
Nothing was going to be the same anymore.
18
Briar
“We’d be delighted to hire your guys.”
Briar jerked his head in a quick nod, like he’d expected nothing less. This was one of the top menswear designers in the world, and he was collaborating with one of his first fashion school friends in a world premier, and he wanted them.
Exposed couldn’t go much higher.
It was such a first-world problem—being so good that there wasn’t much room for upward growth.
“On one condition: we don’t want that guy,” Declan pushed aside one of the comp cards. “We want Gabriel Hunter.”
“Vince can get in touch about his requirements,” Briar told Declan smoothly, glancing between him and Fabio. The other man didn’t quite live up to his namesake, but he was equally renowned for his skill behind the scenes.
“He killed it in London. We have to have him in Paris.”
“We have him booked for several runway shows, three catalogs, some public appearances…” Briar trailed off. “He’s in the middle of another show right now.”
“We can pay extra.”
“Vince?”
Vince took over negotiations as Briar leaned back, folding his arms as he watched them duke it out. Vince wasn’t going to be able to keep a hold of Gabriel much longer. He was going to be recruited for their top talent department soon—Noel was champing at the bit to represent Gabriel now.
And having Gabriel was helping them, too.
Briar heard the whispers: that Exposed was powerful enough to pick talent off the street and give them a superstar career within a New York City minute. That was more or less what had happened already, and it was having a ripple effect.
Marketing was losing their mind over the best way to exploit this. Briar hadn’t had so many back-to-back meetings with important people in the industry in years.