I turn and look at myself in the full-length mirror that hangs on the bathroom door. Here I am, unstyled dark hair hanging down my back, frumpy peasant blouse concealing my figure entirely, and worn jeans tangled around my ankles. Maybe she has a point.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly. “So what should I wear?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” she squeals a little too excitedly.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m putting the final touches on my makeup as Beth wanders out the front door to stand on the elevated walkway that runs along the side of the building. I take one last look in the mirror. I have on a tight black knit skirt that comes to mid-thigh, a pair of black cowboy boots with multi-colored stitching, and a silver sleeveless mock-turtleneck with glittery threads woven through it. My sister has curled the ends of my hair and put the front up in a ponytail that cascades from the top of my head down to my shoulders. I’ve added big silver hoop earrings, smoky eyeliner, black mascara, sheer lip gloss, and a stack of silver bangles on my arm. I look pretty damn good if I do say so myself.
I grab my tiny shoulder bag off the dresser and head out to the living room. The front door is partially open and I hear Beth’s voice from outside.
“So you must be the infamous Gabe. I’m Alexis’s sister, Bethany.”
Oh what the hell! How has she managed to find him in the last five minutes? Shit. I frantically grab for my keys hanging on the wall and run to the front door. There, in all her flirty glory, stands my sister, yelling down to the parking lot while Gabe and some huge guy wearing track pants and a t-shirt stare up at her, both of them grinning.
I hesitate in the doorway, afraid to let Gabe see me. But he seems to have special powers, because as his friend is saying something to my sister, I see him lean ever so slightly to one side. His eyes travel past my sister and right to me. He very slowly looks me up and down, and his lips purse briefly before he breaks out into a huge wolfish grin.
Seeing his face, Beth turns to look behind her. “Oh! There you are. I’ve met Gabe! I mean, finally. After everything I heard about him, it’s so great to see him in person.”
I gape at her like a fish struggling to breathe out of water.
Her left eyebrow lifts, challenging me to say something – anything. My eyes shoot over the railing to the parking lot where Gabe and his friend stand. His friend is saying something to him quietly and Gabe nods but keeps his gaze fixed on me.
“Well!” Beth says loudly so the guys will hear her. “Lock your door and let’s go introduce me properly!”
By the time we’ve walked down the stairs to the parking lot, I’m steaming mad. My face is hot, my stomach is jittery, and there’s a shooting pain traveling up my neck and into my head. I wonder briefly if there’s a special term for killing your sister or if fratricide covers it. Whatever the word, I’m going to do it. Yes, after tonight, I’ll be down to only a younger sister, because the lovely Bethany will be dead. My parents will be sad, but they’ll get over it. Just think of all the money I’ll be saving them.
When we reach the parking lot, Gabe and company stroll over to meet us. He’s wearing a pair of faded jeans that ride his slim hips and a tight black t-shirt that says Hilo Bar and Grill. It molds to his chest perfectly, and I can see the edges of the tats I know cover his shoulders peeking out from beneath the sleeves. I try not to remember what it felt like to have those shoulders under my hands as I straddled him naked, wet, and hot. Apparently my sister likes those shoulders too because as he approaches us, her face erupts into a giant smile and she walks straight up, throwing her arms around him.
What. The. Hell.
“Thank you, Gabe Thompson,” she says, keeping her arms around his neck as she leans back a bit to talk to him. “Thank you for saving my sister’s life. My family was inexcusably rude for not thanking you earlier, but I hope you can forgive us and know that we are really grateful to you.”
Did I just imagine that she put an extra emphasis on the really part? Gabe’s hands are resting on Beth’s hips, and I feel my fingers twitch to brush them off. He doesn’t need to be touching her like that. And she certainly doesn’t need to be touching him like that.
He gives her a charming, panty-melting smile as she finally steps back from him. “Well, Beth,” he says in a husky I just got out of bed voice, not even flicking a glance at me, “you’re very welcome, and I’m glad I was there to help her out.”
“So, how’d you save her life, man?” Gabe’s giant friend asks, looking between me and Beth a couple of times.
“Oh, this is my friend, Mike, from work,” Gabe says to Beth. “And Mike, this is Beth and her sister Alexis.”
Mike puts out his hand and Beth and I each shake it. I mumble something reasonably appropriate, but Beth is suddenly like a damn debutante, her manners are so ingratiating.
Mike looks at the three of us. “Story, y’all. Saving her life?” He points at me.
Gabe’s smile turns feral as he focuses all his attention on me. “You tell it, Alexis. You know it best, don’t you think?”
Beth watches as she stands next to him. Then she reaches over and loops her arm through his, looking up at him and giving him a dazzling smile.
I feel my stomach sink as he smiles back and basks in her admiration. This is so wrong. Really, really wrong. And they are all three standing there, waiting for me to answer the damn question.
How did Gabe save my life?
Gabe
Amores, dolores y dineros no pueden estar secretos.
Love, pain, and money can’t be kept secret.
ALEXIS’S sister is friendly. She’s also not hard on the eyes. I mean, how can I not find her attractive when she looks so much like the woman I love? But as much as I wish it were Alexis latched on my arm right now, my heart knows it’s not. However, as I look over at the babe in question, who is dressed to the nines and so fucking sexy it makes my chest ache, I notice a glint in her eye. A glint of green. I feel the rush of vindication through my veins. You don’t get jealous if you don’t care.
I throw Beth my best smile then lean down and whisper in her ear, “You and I need to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”
I see Alexis visibly pale, her lips compressed into a thin line, and she takes a deep breath before she speaks in a rush.
“So, Gabe saved my life because we were caught by insurgents in a cave for three days, and then we escaped and all’s well that ends well. Beth, c’mon. We have to go. Now.” Alexis reaches out for Beth’s arm, but Beth neatly avoids her sister’s grasp.
“Just chill, Lex. Gabe and I are getting to know each other.” She levels a stern look on Alexis. “And aren’t you leaving a lot out of that story?”
“Yeah, no offense, but that sucked,” Mike complains. “I want to hear about the guns and the danger and shit. There’s got to be more exciting stuff than sitting in a cave for three days.”
I finally take pity on Alexis, who looks like she is ready to rip her sister’s arms out of their sockets.
“Yeah, man, there was more. They trapped us in the first place by laying an IED in the road and nearly blowing up our supply truck. Then I had to kill a guy who came after us in the middle of the first night. Then I got shot when I tried to get us out in the middle of the second night.”
I pause. Alexis is breathing rapidly, and her cheeks are pink.
“Alexis had to be my nurse and bandage up my shoulder.” My voice is rough, and I can feel my body heating as I remember that night. Our first night together.
“But the third night, we walked out and my guys were waiting for us at the mouth of the canyon the insurgents had closed off. So it all worked out fine.” I stop and Alexis finally looks straight at me. I see a brief flash of something – pain? Lust? Guilt? Whereas once I was able to read her so well, now I have no idea.
“So you got shot, man? Show me! Did it hurt?” Mike is like a kid in a candy store. Jesus, guys who’ve never been in the military always think it’s so glamorous. G
etting shot is no different than any other injury that hurts really fucking bad.
“Nah, it was just a scrape. No biggie,” I say, trying to pass it off.
Beth pouts and jumps up and down, bouncing her chest against my arm. I get the feeling she’s overdoing it on purpose. Maybe she likes to see her sister jealous too? “Nooo, you have to show us now! Please, Gabe. I want to see if my sister did a good job patching you up.” She bats her eyelashes at me and purses her glossy lips. “Pretty please?”
With my free hand, I scratch my head. Yeah, this is humiliating. Utterly and completely humiliating. But I can’t see any way out of it without being a jerk, so I disengage myself from the tentacles of Bethany and slowly lift up my shirtsleeve to reveal the shoulder that took the hit in Afghanistan. There is total silence for what seems like hours although I’m sure is mere seconds. I can feel my face heating up. It’s kind of like tearing open my heart and exposing it to the outside air. It feels like a stinging, hot wind is blowing on my raw organ.
“Oh!” Beth squeaks. “Um, wow.”
“Nice work, dude,” Mike says, looking at me a little more sharply than before.
Alexis stands there in total silence, her eyes glistening with what I recognize as tears. Goddammit. She cries over everything. She always has, and it’s always torn me up to see it. I’d do virtually anything to keep her from crying.
She reaches out a hand as if she’s going to touch me then pulls it back, just like she pulls her love back every time I’m near her.
“You never told me,” she whispers.
“You never let me,” I reply.
Alexis
Te querré para siempre.
I will always love you.
I stand looking at Gabe’s shoulder, my heart pounding in my chest, my ears buzzing, my head full of static. I register Beth stepping nearer to me and Mike asking about the meanings of the various tattoos on Gabe’s arm and shoulder. Meanwhile, Gabe stares at me, his face blank, eyes burning through me, down to my core.
I swallow as I let my gaze drift back to the scar. It’s about eight inches long and runs almost straight down the middle of his upper arm.
Then, there’s the tattoo.
Written sideways are two words in a beautiful dark blue script. Each runs along the scar, not on top of it but alongside it, as though it were the ruler mark on a paper. The first word is Alexis, and the second, Forever.
Gabe slowly lets his sleeve slide down as Mike moves to his other side and starts asking questions about those tats. Gabe gives him vague answers while we continue to stare at one another. Finally, he blinks and his face readjusts itself into its normal, confident, carefree mask. But I know, for those brief moments we look at one another, the man I loved is still there, just waiting for me to let him out.
And I can’t.
Sensing I’m beyond action, Beth takes charge. Within a few minutes, she’s told Gabe and Mike we’re heading to Sixth Street, they say they are too, we all agree to look for each other at Margie’s, and then I’m in a car speeding away toward downtown.
I slouch on the seat and close my eyes as I lean back. My heart rate still hasn’t normalized, and there is a spot deep inside my chest that is so tender I feel like I’ve been punched.
“Well?” Beth says quietly.
“Well, what?” I answer, keeping my eyes closed so I won’t have to face her.
“That was interesting.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
Her hand nudges me in the arm. “You obviously didn’t know about it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Alexis!”
I open one eye and glare at her.
“Is that seriously all you have to say? I mean, my God, this guy has made a shrine to you on his body. A shrine, Lex. Don’t you feel anything? Don’t you have something to say about it?”
I sigh and wonder what there is to say. How do you talk about someone who once loved you so much he would preserve the skin that was scarred in your defense and then decorate it with your name? He could have placed a tattoo over that scar and rendered it virtually invisible. Instead, he made it the center of what my sister is calling a shrine. A keepsake of the night we first made love, and he placed the word Forever right alongside the whole thing.
“He loves you, Alexis. Like, really loves you. What are you going to do?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I reply. Then I finally open my eyes. I look at Beth, anger flaring through me like a well-fed flame. “I have. A. Boyfriend. I haven’t seen Gabe in two years. I left him for a reason, Beth. What the hell do you want me to say here? Should I tell Marco, ‘Sorry, but apparently this other guy loves me too, so see ya around’?”
Beth rolls her eyes.
“Ooh, I know!” I continue. “Maybe I won’t even tell Marc and I’ll just run off to Hawaii with Gabe and we’ll live happily ever after. You know, since he tattooed my name on his skin and all. Guaranteed happiness.” I snort.
“Stop it, Lex,” she hisses. “Stop trying to act like you don’t give a shit when I know you do. You were obviously jealous every time I touched him.” She levels me with a stare. “I know you care about Marco. I like Marco. He’s a good enough guy, and I’m not telling you what you should do, but you can’t ignore this man who is in passionate, almost violent love with you. I’ve never seen anything like the way he looks at you. It’s like you’re the answer to every question he’s ever asked.”
“Get real, Beth! Will you listen to yourself? I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’ve built this whole thing up into some sort of mythological romance. Next thing I know, you’ll be saying he’s slayed dragons for me.”
Beth looks at me hard. “Hasn’t he?”
I fall silent, unable to respond.
Her voice gentles. “Even if Marco is your future, you need to find closure with Gabe. He obviously needs it, and I think you do too. Figure out a way to let him go, Lex, or none of you are going to be able to move on.”
Gabe
Apretados pero contentos.
The more the merrier.
SIXTH Street is pounding. Bass drums and electric guitars pour out of the narrow, old brick buildings and college kids spill onto the adjacent sidewalks and street like a constant stream of buzzing bees. And alcohol is everywhere you look. Outdoor carts with cheap beer and margaritas, frat boys stumbling around with the obligatory red plastic cups, doormen carding and hand-stamping to ensure no one who shouldn’t drink does. Normally I would thrive on this, but tonight it threatens to give me a headache.
Mike quizzes me to no end on the ride over – did Alexis and I hook up in Afghanistan? Why aren’t we together now? Do I want to hook up with her? Can he hook up with her sister then? Do I want to hook up with her sister? The dude is seriously head-fucked over the whole thing. Of course, come to think of it, I am too.
We park at a lot on one end of the downtown strip and start weaving our way through the drunks and screaming girls to get to Margie’s, where we’re meeting Mike’s cousin.
“So, you gonna hook up with one of the Garcia sisters tonight?” Mike asks for what feels like the millionth time.
I glare at him.
“What? Just asking,” he says, arms out to his sides in a what the fuck gesture.
“I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” I answer curtly. “I’m just here to drive your ass around when you get drunk.”
“Maybe you’d be a little friendlier if you did hook up,” he notes.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
“Yeah, that’s what all the girls say to you.”
Up ahead I see the lights of Margie’s – iconic Austin bar and live music central. The line to get in runs out the front door and down the block about twenty yards. Mike, however, appears to know the secret password, because he swaggers right past the line and up to the front door where he lays a half-hug and a handclasp on the doorman.
“This is my buddy from work, Gabe. Gabe, this is Rick. We grew up together.”
I shake hands with the guy, who’s almost as big as Mike. I definitely want these guys on my side if the shit hits the fan.
“Good to meet you, man,” Rick says. “Carla and Denise are already here, so go on in before they get wasted and do something stupid.”
Mike laughs, and we squeeze through the double doors that are stuffed with humanity.
As we shuffle through the throng of people bottlenecked at the entrance, I find myself scanning the crowds for a glimpse of silver or black, the colors Alexis is wearing.
When she walked down the stairs at our apartment building, it felt like an eighty-pound weight had settled on my chest. She was gorgeous in Afghanistan in cargo pants and t-shirts, her hair in all its natural wildness. But I’d never seen her decked out. A war zone doesn’t have many clubs. Watching her in that tight, glittery top and the black mini-skirt was almost more than I could take. All I could think was what those long legs would feel like as I stroked my tongue along them from ankle to someplace higher and even sweeter. My mind rushes to the thought of her in those cowboy boots and not much else. I’d volunteer to give her a ride. Fuck. Even in the middle of a raucous bar slammed between sweaty college kids, the idea of her makes me hard.
When we finally push through the crowd at the door, I realize the building is a lot larger than I thought viewing it from the outside. The room we are in has an open roof and two-story-high limestone walls. A set of stairs runs to our left up to what looks like more tables and a lot more people.
Mike leads me straight through the courtyard space until we enter a more traditional enclosed bar area. It’s three deep along the bar itself, waitresses piling up at the servers’ station to load trays with pitchers of beer and dozens of shots. I think briefly about the bar Nick’s fiancée, Lyndsey, manages back in Hilo. I’m wearing the t-shirt she gave me before I left, and for a moment I miss her and Nick painfully. Shaking off my nostalgia, I follow Mike to a high table with two blondes sitting at it.
Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2 Page 4