“Really? I’ll add it to my list of places to visit, then.”
“I’ll take you one day,” Gabriel says in a casual voice, as if he hasn’t just implied a future between us.
Moving my eyes to a painting, I fight the smile that wants to break free. “I’d like that,” I answer, trying to match his easy tone.
Gabriel meets my eyes for a second and smiles, before looking away himself. He squeezes my hand. “Me, too.”
We stop in front of a bunch of grapes and a clock. Reading the caption, I see it’s a piece by a Californian artist called Cloud. I tilt my head, trying to work out what the hell I’m seeing.
“What do you think?” Gabriel asks me after a few moments. I’m not sure if I’m imagining the hint of amusement in his voice.
I pause, trying to collect my thoughts. One of the things I’ve enjoyed most about this afternoon is Gabriel’s sense of humor. He’s passionate and educated about art, but doesn’t make me feel stupid because I’m not. We’ve laughed over the pieces we don’t understand, and debated our interpretations of the ones we do.
And just like he’s doing now, he encourages me to have an opinion and develop my own voice.
“Honestly?” I ask, glancing back at him.
“Of course.” His full focus is on me, as if my opinion is the most interesting thing in this room. As if I’m the most important person in this room. It fills me with confidence and a deeper emotion that I’m not ready to analyze.
“I’m sure it has some profound meaning, but I don’t get it,” I murmur out of the corner of my mouth, not wanting to be overheard.
Gabriel chuckles and leans in closer to me. I try to not shiver when his lips brush against my ear. “Me, neither,” he whispers before moving back with a boyish grin.
“Really? You don’t have some big poetic theory about the artist making a comment on society?”
His soft lips twitch, distracting me for a second. He lifts an eyebrow. “Are you mocking me?”
I laugh, drawing disapproving looks and tuts from some of the people around us, who are taking this piece very seriously. “I wouldn’t dare,” I lie.
Gabriel and I sport matching grins as we look at each other. We’re sharing a private joke with our eyes, but we’re also sharing more. Emotions like tenderness and respect. For a moment, it feels like it’s us against the world. When Gabriel speaks, he confirms I’m not the only one experiencing it.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He holds his hand out to me again.
I don’t have to think about it. I place my hand in his, like I’m slowly placing pieces of my heart. “I’d love to.”
Gabriel leads me to a magnificent garden at the back of the museum. The calm, quiet air is soothing as we walk around the lush green space. We’re the only people out here right now, which adds to the special atmosphere.
Raising our joined fingers, Gabriel kisses the back of my hand. “Happy?” he asks me, searching my eyes.
I swing our hands between us and release a contented sigh. “Can’t you tell? It’s so beautiful here. I had no idea this place existed.”
“Most people don’t. They just come for the art.”
“And the gift shop,” I joke.
Gabriel’s velvety laugh flows right through me. “That, too.”
We head further into the garden, and walk down a winding cobbled path to a stone fountain. Spotting a nearby bench, we take a seat and soak up the tranquil atmosphere. “I’ve had such a great day,” I tell him, watching birds dip their heads in the fountain for a drink.
“Me, too.”
“Thank you for bringing me here. It’s been so nice to see you in your element, talking about the things you love.”
Gabriel glances out at the garden before saying in a quiet voice, “It’s nice to have someone to share them with.”
I link my arm with his and lean my head on his shoulder. Gabriel kisses the top of my head. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the fragrant scent of flowers and smile. Gratitude for the small pleasures in life runs through my veins.
After a few minutes, I straighten. A broad smile forms on my face when I notice a beautiful blue butterfly perched on a bright pink flower. I slide along the bench to have a closer look. Watching the butterfly, I marvel at its colorful, delicate wings. It’s amazing that something so fragile can do such incredible things. A lot like, hearts, I guess.
I glance back at Gabriel with an excited grin. He’s already watching me with that soft look in his eyes that I’ve come to love.
“You know, I never gave much thought to butterflies before you told me my story reminded you of them. Now, I feel this connection to them,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the animal in question. “They fit several different lifetimes into a short period, which I can relate to.”
He nods. “I know. They’re also much stronger than they look. Just like you.”
My warm cheeks have nothing to do with the sunshine. “Thanks.”
I don’t just like Gabriel for the man I see in him; I like him for the woman he sees in me. We’re each other’s mirrors, reflecting back the best in each other. Seeing each other in a way no one else does.
When the butterfly dances away into the air, Gabriel speaks again. “I mean it, Ava. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting you. Such a bubbly, innocent spirit to crash into my life and turn it upside down.”
“I’m sorry.” I smile, not sorry at all.
“No.” Gabriel moves down the bench and closes every inch of space between us. One arm curls around my body, while the other cups the back of my head. Noses brushing, we leave our lips a breath apart. Gabriel’s thumb strokes the back of my neck. “I’m the one that should be sorry. You deserve a better man than me. One who adds to your light, instead of selfishly stealing it.”
I lean my head into his touch. “What are you talking about? You’re not stealing anything. You said I’m stronger than I look. Well you’re a better man than you believe.”
Gabriel’s head lowers. His long eyelashes caress my cheeks as he kisses across my face before returning to my mouth. With a quiet, tortured moan, he consumes me whole. It’s strange to be in a peaceful place, with such violent emotion racing through me. But it’s also perfect. It’s us.
I frown and pull back when something wet brushes across my cheeks. “Gabriel?”
Not acknowledging the tiny droplets on his thick eyelashes, Gabriel grips my face in his warm hands. “I know I shouldn’t, but I want this, Ava. I—” He huffs and lowers the last wall between us. “I want you.”
My smile stretches, but I want to remove the tension on his face. “You have me. This isn’t one-sided, you know. I’m taking just as much from you as you are from me,” I reassure him.
His deep frown suggests he’s struggling to make sense of my words. I stroke it away with my fingers. “I mean it. The only way this relationship is going to work is if we’re equals. You said it yourself, I may look delicate, but I’m strong. Trust me to know my own mind. I can deal with doubt from Finn and my mom, but not you, too.”
Gabriel’s eyes soften in understanding. He kisses me. “Okay.”
“I’ll believe in your goodness, and you believe in my strength.”
“Where are we going?” Gabriel asks for the second time in as many minutes.
“You’ll find out in just a second. We’re almost here.”
Gabriel and I have been an official couple for three months now, and I’ve never been happier. The glass isn’t just full, it’s overflowing.
Our joined hands swing between us. Scanning the building numbers, I smile when I find our destination. “Here we are.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrow as he takes in our location. I hold my breath, waiting for realization to sink in. I know when it does because his head swings in my direction. “You brought me to a poetry club? This is your surprise?”
His tone gives nothing away. I shift on my feet and shrug. “Yes. I know you’ve lost your words, but you told me that
poetry was in your veins, so you must be missing it. I just thought it might help to be around other people’s words. Maybe you’ll get some inspiration. You’re always going out of your way to do special things for me; I wanted to do something for you.”
My cheeks are burning. During my rambling speech, Gabriel hasn’t moved an inch. He stares at me as if he’s never seen me before. His mouth opens and closes several times.
Wincing, I help him out. “If you don’t want to go in, we don’t have to. It was just an idea. I wanted to make you smile, not sad. Let’s go. We can see what’s on at the movies, or we can just go back to your apartment—” Gabriel pulls on my hand as I start to walk away.
“No. I just… Ava, I…” He clears his throat and looks down at me with glazed eyes. “Thank you.”
I frown and tilt my head. “For what?”
Gabriel leans down and kisses me. It doesn’t last long enough. He pushes my hair off my face and holds my cheek in his palm. “You have no idea how special you are; do you?” he asks. I warm at the compliment.
“Thanks, but it doesn’t take a genius to bring a poet to a poetry club.”
“You’ve done more than that and you know it. You’re feeding a starving man. That’s what makes you special.” I lean into his touch before kissing him again. The sound of clapping from inside the building brings me back down to earth.
“We should go inside. It’s supposed to start soon. The website made it sound like it was the poetry version of an open mic night, so I can’t guarantee what kind of quality the poems will be. There might be some terrible ones.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Gabriel is so talented, I don’t want to offend his artistic sensibilities.
He smiles. “Don’t worry, Ava. Good company makes bad poetry better. What is it you call it? We can make out to distract ourselves.” He fires a lascivious grin my way.
Gabriel and I have been making out a lot lately. For such a sensual man, he’s been nothing but considerate of my inexperience. Things have been heating up in intimacy over the last few months. But as scorching as our chemistry is, he’s never taken me further than I’m ready to go.
Instead, he’s helping me learn about my body and desires at my own pace, and encouraging me to express them however I want. Thanks to Gabriel, I’m more confident in my skin than ever before.
Even so, the conversation about losing my virginity to Finn was still awkward as hell. To Gabriel’s credit, he took it better than I expected and seems to be over it now, even if he does hold me a bit tighter in Finn’s presence.
Watching Gabriel’s eyebrows waggle, I laugh. “And here was I thinking an evening of poetry would be a classy affair.”
He lets out a low hum. “Poets are good with words. Which means we are good with our tongues…” As if demonstrating his prowess, he wraps an arm around my waist and bends his head to lick against a spot on my neck. I shiver before coming to my senses and pushing him away. With space, my rationality returns.
“I had no idea poetry was such a turn-on.” That’s a lie. From the first time I read Gabriel’s words, I started to fall in love with him. Or at least, he became far more attractive.
“You’re a turn-on.”
I chuckle. “Let’s save the smooth words for inside the club, shall we?”
He grins, unrepentant. Every time I’m rewarded with one of his smiles, I feel as if I’ve won the lottery. They were so hard to come by when we first met that I don’t ever take them for granted now.
“Okay, mariposa. Have it your way. Let’s go.” He takes my hand again.
“Oh! Before I forget.” I reach into my purse, pull out a beanie hat and glasses, and hold them out to Gabriel. “Here.”
He takes them from me and studies them with a bemused frown. “What are these for?”
“They’re for you.”
“For me? I don’t want to offend you, baby, but these are not my style. I’m five years too old to wear this.”
I laugh. “No offense taken, old man.” He scowls at the nickname I love to tease him with. “I thought you could use them as a disguise.”
“A disguise? Why?”
“Well, you’re kind of a big deal in this world, aren’t you?”
I watch understanding battle with humility. Modesty wins, and he shrugs, blushing.
“You won’t say it, so I will. You’re a big deal. But you also hate people.”
He laughs. “That’s true. I l—” Gabriel coughs. “—like you, though.”
“Thanks, boyfriend. I’d hope so.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I know you won’t want to be approached by anyone, so I figured you should wear some sort of disguise. Let’s be honest, it’s a poetry club in San Francisco. It’s going to be Hipster Central. These clothes should help you blend right in.”
He lifts up the thick framed black glasses. “These won’t hurt my eyes?”
“No. They’re plastic.”
His brow creases as he taps it. “Why would anyone wear plastic glasses?”
“Don’t ask me. Ask the people in there. They do it all the time. So what do you think? Genius, right?”
“I think you’ve spent too much time with Finn.”
Realizing this is just the sort of crazy thing my best friend would come up with, I giggle. “I think you’re right.” I know it’s silly, but the truth is, I just want to keep Gabriel smiling. If this ridiculous “disguise” achieves that, I’ll be happy.
Maybe Gabriel also recognizes my true motives, or maybe he just wants to make me happy, too. Grumbling, he puts the beanie hat and glasses on. “I look ridiculous.”
I fight my laughter when he looks up and crosses his arms. “No. You look hot.”
He must see the truth and desire in my eyes, because his glare eases. “I do?” He has to push the glasses back up his nose when he looks down to check himself out.
“Yeah. This is a good look for you. A really good look.” My voice is huskier than I’ve ever heard it. His thick dark waves curl out from the grey beanie hat. He still radiates untamed masculinity, but he looks younger and fresher. Hotter. Like a guy on campus all the girls would go crazy for. “Who knew I was into geeks?”
At my words, his glare reappears. Without warning, he bends down and lifts me over his shoulder. Uncontrollable laughter spills out of my lips as he taps me on the behind. “There’s only one type of man for you, Ava, and he’s holding you right now. You say the club will be full of men dressed like this. Perhaps we should go back home.” He swings me in the direction we came from. His smiling voice lets me know he’s joking, but I surrender in between my giggling.
“No! I’ll be good, I promise. Besides, I only have eyes for you.”
He stops walking and slides me down his body. I wrap my arms around his neck. My face is flushed, but my smile is bright. Gabriel takes my lips in an earth-tilting kiss. His mouth tastes like gratitude and hope, and I breathe it all in.
“All four of my eyes are for you,” he jokes, winking behind his glasses.
Shaking with laughter, he wraps his arms around my shoulder and pulls me into him. Where I belong.
Gabriel was right. Good company does make bad poetry better.
But I was right, too. Even with the disguise, a steady stream of people has come up to us all evening, asking Gabriel to sign their books, or to check out their work. They seem oblivious to the fact we’re sitting in the darkest, most secluded booth, in the furthest corner from the stage. Gabriel has been gracious and humble, though, which makes me fall for him even more.
Despite the interruptions, we’ve had a great time. And as bad as some of the poetry has been, Gabriel has come alive in a way I’ve never seen him, not even at the art gallery.
His silver eyes shine in the dark room, his attention focused on the stage as a middle-aged woman shares her soul. A few times, I’ve caught him closing his eyes, letting the words wash over him. There’s something vulnerable about him tonight; he’s allowed me to share in his quiet, private moments, and it’s an ho
nor I treasure.
The woman finishes her poem and receives the strongest applause of the night so far.
“She was great. It takes so much courage to open yourself up like that and share your pain with total strangers. I could never do it,” I tell him.
“Perhaps she doesn’t have a choice,” Gabriel says.
“How do you mean?”
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth like he always does when he’s trying to find the perfect words. “If you keep art like that inside and don’t let it out into the world, the words will eat away at you until there is nothing left. She has to share it to survive. It’s not just poetry, it’s therapy.”
“You sound like you can relate.”
Avoiding my eyes, Gabriel plays with a beermat on the table. “I can.”
He doesn’t offer any more answers, and I don’t ask any more questions. I notice his tense posture relax. Taking a sip, he sends me a grateful smile over his beer bottle.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” he says, a few minutes later.
I smile. “You’re welcome.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize just how much I missed being around poetry. Even if I didn’t write it.”
“We’re all guilty of neglecting the things we love most sometimes.”
“And what do you love most?” he asks me. The loaded question bridges the space between us.
“Myself,” I answer in a quiet voice. Gabriel has given me the strength to tell my truth. No matter how ugly or painful. He always says I’m changing him, but he’s changing me, too.
He nods and smiles, as if my answer makes him happy. “Good. Don’t ever neglect yourself, Ava. You’ve come too far and sacrificed too much not to be your own priority.”
Just like that, I receive the same understanding I gave him earlier. To the outside world, we’re mismatched in a lot of ways. They may choose to see nationality, or heritage, or age. But they don’t see what we see in each other. Acceptance. Encouragement. Light.
Our eyes are open, while their minds are closed. I know which I prefer.
This Old Heart of Mine Page 12
