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Authors: Jane Charles

Between the Lines (6 page)

BOOK: Between the Lines
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Gabe – 7

 

The leg
is feeling better, now that I’ve walked around on it a bit and able to stretch
out the cramped muscles from riding on the train. My legs are long enough that
they would have cramped whether I had a bum knee or not and it’s always been a
pain in the ass.

I smile
over at Ellen. She’s so concerned, and really, this is nothing. I’ve been in
far worse pain. But, I’ve been a downer since we got off the train and should
make it up to her. “What else do you want to do? Central Park is nice and all,
but there are far more exciting things to do in New York.”

“What
about your leg?” She’s biting her bottom lip and I find it absolutely adorable.
Plus, it makes me want to kiss her.

“It’s
fine. Really.”

She looks
me up and down. “Well, you aren’t limping as much.”

“All I
needed to do was stretch it.” Though ice about now would be great, but I’m
afraid to tell her that.

“Why
don’t we head back to the apartment, we can dump our stuff and then see what we
want to do.”

“Sounds
like a plan.” Besides, I don’t really want to be hauling my backpack all over
New York, and I’d like to hang my clothes up for tonight. I can’t go to the
theatre in jeans and a t-shirt and if my dress clothes stay in this pack much
longer, they’re going to look worse than what I’m wearing.

We make
our way back to the entrance, stopping only long enough to get an ice cream and
then hail a taxi. Ellen gives an address but I don’t know the city well enough
to know where we’re going.

It pulls
up before an older building, several stories tall, and this time, I pay for his
services, and we get out. The doorman greets Ellen the minute she steps into
the marble foyer, and we get into the elevator, taking it to the sixth floor. I
follow her out and to the end of the hall, where she unlocks and opens the
door. “Paige is on tour and I cleaned out the fridge before I left so there’s
no food in the place.” To my left is a living room with a fireplace, and wooden
floors that have to date back to the time the building was built. From the
windows you can see the river. The room is huge and most people would use the
other half as a dining room. Not this Paige. There’s a wall of mirrors and a
barre that runs the length of them.

“She’s a
ballerina,” Ellen explains and goes out another door, and we are back in the
hall off of the foyers.

“You can
use my room and I’ll take hers.” She gestures to the one to the left. “The
bathroom is right there, and the kitchen is around the corner.”

I don’t
know much about New York apartments, but we are in Manhattan, this is a pre-war
building, and the apartment is huge. I could save every dime of what I make at
Baxter and still not save up enough for a down payment before retirement. “Does
she own the place?”

“Actually,
it’s her parents, but they moved to Florida. Paige can live here as long as she
can pay the bills, fees, taxes and support herself.”

“There’s
another small bedroom off of the kitchen, with a tiny bath, where her parents’
maid lived. Paige lets me use it for my office and the dining room is hers.”
Ellen laughs.

I give a
low whistle. Paige has to come from money. Or, maybe the real estate wasn’t
that high back in the day her parents bought the place, but it has to be worth
well over a million today.  I suspect Ellen is kind of rich too, which is why
they’re probably friends. I don’t know she’s wealthy for a fact, but the Audi
she drives couldn’t cost less than forty grand and she hasn’t really worked
since she graduated last summer.

My
stomach knots. She is so out of my league. What the hell am I doing here and
with her?

 

Ellen

 

He’s
getting weird on me. I should have expected it. How much more weirded out would
he be if he knew that I have more money in the bank that Paige? She may have
property worth 1.5 million, but only makes enough money to barely scrape by.
Instead of rent, I pay all the bills. It’s a win-win situation for both of us
and absolutely nothing is in my name.

Paige’s
probably the only true friend I have and the only person who knows the truth. I
had to tell her. It was for her safety as much as mine. It didn’t feel right to
move in with someone without telling them that at one time someone had taken a
hit out on you.

I thought
that was behind me. I thought I was safe.

My hands
begin to shake and I push away my fear. I will not give into it. I will not
give them that power.

I grab an
icepack out of the freezer and take it to Gabe’s room. He’s unpacking his
clothing for tonight and hanging it up. “We’ll put those in the dryer with a
damp towel. That should get most of the wrinkles out.” I hold out my hands.
“Let me toss them in.”

“Thanks.”

 “I’ve
got an ice pack. Do you want to kick back for a bit?”

“Yes!” He
groans. “Any Ibuprofen?”

“I’m sure
there is in one of the bathrooms. Go into the living room and I’ll see what I
can find.”

Gabe goes
past me and I duck into the bathroom, open the medicine cabinet and gasp. Shit.
I’d forgotten I had prescriptions here. Some of my anxiety meds. What if he
went looking for toothpaste or something? It’s one thing to have generic over
the counter stuff, but I don’t want him to see these. I don’t want him worrying
that I’ll wig out on him or something. People who don’t have anxiety rarely
understand it. Hell, he won’t even take a prescribed narcotic when he’s in
pain. I can’t imagine how he’d react if he knew I had once been prone to panic
attacks. People may say they understand, but they never really do. He’s
probably never been around anyone remotely unstable in his life and I’m not
about to let him think that maybe I am.

I grab
the bottles and hide them in the hamper under some clean towels and then do a
close inspection of the bathroom and the bedroom, just so no other surprises
come up.

Paige has
got to have some painkillers in her bathroom so I head in there and stop in the
middle of the room. This bed is larger. Should I have given it to Gabe? I just
figured Paige would be more comfortable with me sleeping here than a guy she
never met.

But, the
bed is bigger and he has long legs, one that is injured. There’s plenty of room
for both of us.

“Stop
it,” I hiss to myself. “You will not invite Gabe Kent into your bed, or
Paige’s, no matter how much you want him there. You’ve only known him two days.
What are you thinking?”

 

 

 

 

 

Gabe – 8

 

I’ve
never been to a Broadway show, ever. Until I met Ellen, and she invited me, I
really had no desire to attend either. But I like it. At least, I like the
theatre. We’re in the balcony and I lean over and watch all the people come in,
taking their seats in the rows that gradually slopes to the stage. There are
box seating areas to either side of us and those are filled too. But out of all
the seats in the theatre, I think we have the best ones. “How did you snag
front row balcony seats on such short notice?” What I really like is that there
are no seats in front of us and I can stretch out my legs.

“I know
people,” she grins at me.

I’m not
buying it for a minute. She knows it and rolls her eyes. “Okay, I changed the
tickets. It was this or the front row. I wanted you to have leg room, but I
can’t stand sitting up front. I like to be back so I can see the entire stage.”

That was
very sweet of her. I lean over. “Thank you.” Placing my hand against her cheek,
I lean further in and gently kiss her. I’ve been wanting to do that all day but
I was too afraid to kiss her at the apartment. After last night, we might not
have made it to the theatre.

“You’re
welcome,” she smiles back at me.

The
lights dim and the orchestra begins. I slip my hand in hers and relax. This is
a new experience, one I intend to enjoy, even if it is only because of the
woman sitting next to me.

 

 

Ellen is
humming as we leave the theatre. “I think we need a bottle of champagne.”

“You
aren’t going to sing about the night they invented it, are you?” I joke.


The
night they invented champagne
,” she sings out as she skips to the curb so
we can get a taxi.

I tug on
her hand, pulling her back to me. “I’d rather
Thank Heaven for Little Girls.
They grow up in the most delightful ways
.” I wink at her.


Without
them, what would little boys do
?” She laughs and twirls away. “You liked
it, didn’t you?”

She’s so
happy that even if I hated it, I wouldn’t tell her. “Of course. I’ve a mind to
stay in New York a little longer and take in a few shows.”

Ellen
stops, her eyes wide. “Really?”

I meant
it as a joke, but she’s so excited. “I don’t have another change of clothing.”

“We’ll go
shopping. I know some great bargain places.” Ellen rushes to me. “Can we? Stay
a few more days?”

She’s
leaning into me and I want nothing more than to grant her this. “Why not?  I’m
on spring break and don’t have to be anywhere until Monday.”

Ellen
gives a squeal before going up on her toes, wrapping her arms around my neck
and kisses me.

I fish my
phone out of my pocket.

“What are
you doing?”

“Calling
Mateo and telling him that I won’t be back for a few days.”

 

Ellen

 

I can’t
believe Gabe wants to hang out in New York for a few days. It’s the perfect
place to disappear. I did it for six years. But the best part, I’ll have Gabe
all to myself. “We should celebrate. Where should we go?”

“Celebrate?”
He laughs. “What are we celebrating?”

I turn,
looking into his blue eyes. “Meeting each other.”

The smile
slips from his face, and the blue in his eyes darkens. “That’s an excellent
reason.” He grabs me by the waist, pulls me close and lowers his mouth to mine.
I nearly melt on the spot. Man, he can sure kiss. I get hot each time he
touches me. I’m liable to go up in flames if we ever have sex.

And,
we’ll be having sex. Of that I don’t doubt. I want him and I’m fairly certain
he wants me, and there’s a very comfortable apartment only a cab ride away.

I break
the kiss and thread my fingers in his. “I think there’s a bottle of champagne
at the apartment.”

“Then why
are standing here?” His voice is low and gruff, sending shivers down my spine.
Heat pools in my girly parts that have been ignored for far too long.

We grab a
cab and head back to the apartment. Gabe has pulled me close and has his arm
around my shoulder. This is
the
night and butterflies have suddenly
decided to take up residence in my stomach. What if he’s disappointed? What if
I’ve forgotten what to do? It’s been so fucking long.

I’m going
to need that champagne just to calm my nerves. It’s not that I don’t want to
have sex with Gabe because I can’t think of another thing I’d rather do right
now, but what if he hates my body. I’m thin, but at least I’m in shape, so I
have that going for me. But my boobs, what there are of them, are an entirely
different matter. Practically non-existent. If it wasn’t for padded and
uplifting bras, he’d think I was a flat as a pancake. I practically am.

I’ll just
keep the bra on. Whenever couples are in bed on television, the lady always has
a bra on. A very pretty one, but she’s wearing it nonetheless, and I have a
very pretty lace one on right now. I know it’s not normal to wear a bra during
sex, but I’m using it, just to save myself the humiliation of his
disappointment. And, if Gabe suggests a boob job, like my last boyfriend did
almost constantly, then I’ll know he’s not for me.

Oh, I do
hope there’s still a bottle of champagne in the wine fridge. There’s one in the
back corner, filled with reds and whites, their separate sections set at the
perfect temperatures. My contribution to the apartment. When your grandparents
own a vineyard in Napa, you tend to appreciate good wine.

He
follows me inside. I kick off my shoes and to straight to the kitchen. Gabe
hasn’t said a word since we got into the taxi. Then again, I didn’t either
because all I could think about was what would happen tonight. Was he thinking
about the same thing? I’m pretty sure he isn’t filled with nerves and fear of disappointment.
He’s hot, was a college football player, and probably banged more cheerleaders
and groupies than I could count.

My
stomach flips as I grab the bottle. This is a mistake. He’s going to see me
naked, be disappointment and then it’ll be over. I’ll have to see him at the
house for the short time I’m living there.

Hell, I
don’t even know him. Not really. I went to his apartment because of my
investigation and then practically threw myself at him.

What the
hell am I doing? Should I even be getting involved with a guy who might be
harming kids in some way at Baxter? Not that I know exactly what that is, but I
can’t ignore what that girl said.

But, this
is the first time in so fucking long that I’ve felt a connection to someone of
the opposite sex. Something inside me recognized something in him. I know it
makes no fucking sense, but in my gut, I know this is right. Nobody has felt
this right before. It’s as if my soul recognized his in an instant.

Yes, it’s
crazy but I have no other way to explain it.

But, what
if it’s all ruined once we are intimate?   There’ll be nothing to learn about
the other. Worse, what if that’s all he’s after?  I can’t really blame him for
thinking I’m an easy lay. Had we not been interrupted, I would have probably
fucked him within a few hours of first meeting him.

This is
insane, but I want him. It’s as simple as that.

But, what
if he is disappointed, and it’s back to my boobs again.

I can’t
do this. No matter how much I want it to. I don’t want whatever this is to end
right now, or so fast.

“Hey,” he
says, coming into the kitchen. “You okay? You’re breathing like you’re about to
hyperventilate.”

“No,” my
voice squeaks and I clear my throat. “I’m fine.” I pull the bottle from the
fridge and hold it up. “And, we have champagne.”

He just
laughs and grabs two crystal flutes off the glass shelves and sets them on the
marble counter. “Let me.” He takes the bottle from my hands, removes the foil,
twists the wire off and then pops the cork without losing a drop.  Wow, has he
done this a lot? Probably, when his team won championship games, which I’m
assuming they did. Don’t football players usually pop a lot of champagne before
pouring it on everyone’s head? Such a waste! Unless it’s cheap champagne, then
it isn’t worth drinking.

Gabe
fills each glass and hands one to me. “To the door.”

I blink
at him. “Door?”

“If it
wasn’t such a pain in the ass to open, we might not have met.”

We click
glasses and drink. Now what? Do we just stand in the middle of the kitchen
drinking?

“Come
on.” He grabs the bottle and heads back down the hall. I simply follow, glad
he’s taking the lead. But, instead of going to a bedroom, like I assumed, he
goes to the living room and sits on the couch. I try not to blow out a sigh of
relief.

I join
him and he pulls me against him. We’re facing the old fireplace, unlit, but it
reminds me of last night and where that led. Already my blood is heating in
anticipation.

Crap. I
was going to tell him no, but I’m pretty sure that word won’t be uttered
tonight.

We sip in
silence as he strokes my upper arm. 

“I like
you Ellen,” he says after a minute.

“I kind
of like you too.”

“That’s
why we aren’t going to have sex.”

I pull
back and look at him. “What?” He doesn’t like me that way. Damn. He wants a
friendship. It’s probably because of my small boobs. Even the best bras created
can’t fake an A cup.

“I would
like to sleep with you though.”

Isn’t
that the same thing?

Gabe puts
his glass on the table and turns toward me. “Things have happened really fast.”

That’s
the understatement of the year.

“I’m not
going to deny that I want you. Badly. I’m hard right now.”

My face
grows warm and I forbid my eyes from glancing in that direction to see if he’s
telling the truth.

“But, I
just met you yesterday. I don’t fuck girls I barely know.”

“Yet, you
want to sleep with me.”

“Yeah, in
clothing, but it’s still intimate. Let’s spend these days getting to know one
another better and see what happens.” He leans in, brushing his lips across
mine. “I don’t want to ruin a good thing by rushing it.”

At that
moment my heart melts and the rest of me turns to mush. This guy’s a keeper but
will he want me if he ever learns the truth?

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