by Jessica Roe
“You saw me at lunch,” she reminded him, sighing as he pressed hot, wet, open mouthed kisses along her jaw. “Remember? You stuck your middle finger up at me across the lunch room and yelled at me to sit on it and spin. Lame insult, by the way. I didn't even get it.”
Nicky laughed into her neck. “I know, I could tell. Your face gets all scrunched up and adorable when you're confused.” He sent her his most devilish smile, and then frowned. “Anyway, that didn't count. You were sat with your idiot jock buddies, I was sat my friends, and I couldn't do this.” Cupping her cheeks with his large hands, he kissed her again, softer than before. Usually when they sneaked away from everyone to hook up their kisses were hurried and passionate and horny, so it always surprised her how gentle he could be.
“You taste like cigarette smoke,” she told him.
“I'm sorry. I'll quit.”
“Don't. I don't mind it.” Because she cared about him, and that meant accepting him, faults and all. She wasn't even sure why she cared about him, because he could be the most annoying dick goblin on the face of the earth, and they fought like cat and dog, and he dressed totally stupid—what was with all the rips in his clothes anyway?—but sometime since they had first randomly started hooking up after detention one day, Gabrielle had gone and fallen for Nicky Pierce. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Don't you dare leave a mark,” she warned him when he bit down on her neck. And then, “Nicky, have you ever thought...”
“Have I ever thought what? About you naked? Yes.”
“No, it's...shut up. Never mind. It's nothing.”
He pulled back and looked at her disbelievingly, raising a pierced eyebrow. “Gabrielle baby, it's never nothing when it comes to you. If you didn't have something to say, the world would probably stop turning. That's why I hate you. It's also why I want you so damned much. You're maddening.”
She huffed. “Fine, a-hole. I was gonna ask you if you'd ever thought about just telling our friends about...this.” She waved a hand between the two of them. “Then we could do this whenever we wanted, instead of hiding in storage closets and changing rooms. It's hardly romantic.”
The fingers stroking patterns on her waist froze and he dropped his hands away like he'd been burnt. Stepping back until there was at least a couple of feet between them, Nicky stared at her like she'd just declared that she wanted to bear his freaky punk ass babies. “You want to tell our friends that we're...”
“Dating,” she finished for him.
“Hooking up,” he corrected, ignoring her flinch. “Babe, do you really think the two of us going public is such a good idea? I mean, it's not like your friends are gonna be cool with it. They hate me.”
It wasn't going at all like she'd hoped it would; he was supposed to have been happy. She shrugged and leaned back against the locker. “Whatever. I'd make them be cool with it. You should know how persuasive I can be.”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking unreasonably stressed out. It wasn't as if she was asking him to get down on one knee or anything. Gabrielle had to fight the urge to cry; she'd never felt so rejected.
“Well, my friends wouldn't be cool with it. And I doubt you'd be able to persuade them.”
It was a cold, hard reality slap in the face. She was good for a quick fumble, but no more than that. Nicky didn't like her enough to risk ridicule from his friends for dating her.
Nicky seemed to realize that she was genuinely upset because he was watching her incredulously. “You're actually serious about this, aren't you? Have you been taking crazy pills? We can't go public, Gabrielle! Do you know how that would make me look? Just like one of those stupid jocks you hang with.”
That was it! She shoved him in the chest, roughly enough that he stumbled back a step, and then she kicked him as hard as she could in his stupid shin. It wouldn't hurt too badly because of his chunky biker boots, the ones that she totally didn't secretly think were sexy, but it would at least bruise a little if the way he yelped was anything to go by. “You're a stupid jerk, Nicky! I guess if you think I'm so crazy then we shouldn't be fooling around together at all any more!”
“Gabrielle...” he groaned. He was bent over, clutching at his ankle.
She whipped around and slammed shut her locker. “See you around, Nicky.” She stalked towards the doorway, and stopped. “By the way, those jocks are my friends, you ass.”
It wasn't like she wanted him to follow her, but it still hurt when he didn't.
“HE BROKE YOUR young heart then?” Pablo asked. He had watched her speak with rapt attention.
Gable pasted a smile onto her face, praying that the longer she held it, the more real it would become. “Naw. I was just sixteen. It was puppy love, that's all.”
His face showed no signs of disbelief. “So having the boy around won't cause us any unnecessary problems with you?”
Ha, boy. That was an understatement of epic proportions. Whatever Nicky had been doing in the eight years they'd spent apart had obviously paid off. His face had narrowed and his jaw had sharpened, and he'd grown taller—she'd put him at least a couple of inches over six foot. His body had matured in all the right ways—she'd been able to see the way the muscles in his arms strained against his shirt as he'd tried to fight off his captors, even through all the blood stains. But his short hair was still as black as she remembered, and his skin still as olive and his eyes still sparkling with hidden things. Still, Nicky was all man.
“There'll be no problems,” she promised, and she was pretty sure she was being honest. Nicky Pierce was from a completely different lifetime. “We were just kids. The world we lived in back then is gone for me. That little girl who fell in love with Nicky ...” She shook her head in wonder; sometimes the changes she had gone through surprised even her. “God, I wouldn't even recognize her if she appeared right now and sat down on my lap.”
Pablo nodded his approval, smiling tenderly at her. “Good, good. Because those foolish enough to allow emotions to cloud their judgement get sloppy and make mistakes. I don't have room on my team for those who make mistakes. Do you understand?”
It wasn't a subtle threat. Nobody in Pablo's employment quit. Nobody got to walk away. She wasn't quite sure what happened to the employees that disappointed Pablo, but she knew she didn't want to become one of them. Pablo allowed her to be close to him, closer than anyone else, but she wasn't sure that would stop him from from...doing whatever it was he did with the others. “I understand completely. Is there anything else you need me for?”
“Not tonight. Go on home and get some rest.” He slipped his glasses back on and picked up his abandoned papers, and Gable knew she was dismissed.
“Gable,” he said, just as she was reaching for the door handle. She turned back, but he didn't look up. “Tonight's events were unexpected. You handled them well. Well done.”
“YOU NEED A life,” Gable told Chase as he drove her home. “You work too much. When was the last time you went on a date?”
He took his eyes off the road for a moment to grin at her. “Wouldn't you like to know.” It was a conversation they'd had so often that it had become a weekly routine.
He pulled up outside her apartment block and she kissed him on the corner of the mouth. “Cheerio, poppet!” she called behind her as she climbed out of the car. She wasn't really sure what either of those words meant.
“Evening, Miss Xanders,” called out Leland the doorman as she passed him. The grin she sent his way made him blush.
The night had filled Gable with a nervous kind of energy, and with the desire to dispel it, she ignored the elevator to jog up the stairwell. Her apartment was on the top floor—a penthouse suite, bought for her by Pablo when he'd first employed her. By the time she reached her floor she was sweating and panting, but feeling slightly better.
Once inside, she unzipped her boots and padded into the large bathroom to wash up. Resting her hands on the edge of sink, she leaned towards the mirror and studied her tired reflection. Wide brown eyes
stared back at her, lined with dark make-up and filled with weariness. When she'd been a teenager—blonde and bubbly and full of pep—she wouldn't have dreamed of wearing so much eyeliner. But whatever, it went with the dark hair and the dark eyebrows, and as she'd pointed out to Pablo, she wasn't that teenage girl.
If anything, Nicky seemed to have undergone an opposite transition. At sixteen, he'd been all about the black clothes and the smudged guyliner, which Gable had secretly found kind of sexy, in a punk rocker kind of way.
Nicky at twenty four was no punk. Gone were the piercings and the ripped clothes and the spiked hair, and left in their place was an incredibly well built man who knew exactly how to wear the hell out of a suit. He'd looked deliciously good, but honestly, she kind of missed the punk. She wondered whether he was still a smart ass, or if he'd gone all righteous and bitchy like those other Guardians. She'd only come across them a few times, and fists were usually swinging, but once they opened their mouths, things usually got very annoying. Especially when the bitchy blonde one was around, her permanent sneer in place.
Try as she might, Gable just couldn't imagine Nicky as one of them.
AS SOON AS she arrived home, Gabrielle ran straight up to her bedroom and flopped down onto her bed, cursing Nicky Pierce for being able to make her cry like a stupid, love sick girl. She hated him! Hated that she loved him.
A knock sounded on her door. “Honey?”
“Go away, Daddy!”
He ignored her, of course. Mainly because he was a dad, and dads were annoyingly ignorant in general, but also because Sal Xanders just didn't understand personal boundaries. She loved him, but when he let himself into her room anyway, she could have kicked him.
He winced when her saw the tear tracks on her cheeks—she'd always been a daddy's girl, and he hated when she cried. “What's the matter, Gabbycat?” Sitting down beside her, he pulled her up and let her rest her head on his shoulder.
“Nothin'.”
“Are these tears over a boy?”
She shrugged and picked at a hole in his sweater. “There's just this stupid boy I like, and I guess I thought he liked me too, but I was wrong. He doesn't like me, or at least not like I thought he did.”
Her dad squeezed her shoulder tightly. “Want me to show him what for?” He shook a big fist and attempted a menacing face.
Laughter bubbled from within her and she buried her nose into his thick sweater. It smelt just like him, of oranges and aftershave and the faded hint of the cigarette he'd sneaked when he'd thought his wife wasn't looking. The idea of her dad showing anyone, never mind bad ass Nicky Pierce, what for was just funny. He did look scary, with his large frame and his dark eyes and his thick eyebrows, but her daddy was the softest, gentlest, kindest man Gabrielle knew. “That's okay. Don't scratch your knuckles over me.”
“Well, he obviously is a stupid boy,” he declared. “You're the best girl in the world, and if he can't see that then he isn't worth the dirt your sneakers walk on.” He brightened when she smiled up at him. “Come on, your mom's made pasta for dinner. I can't pretend it doesn't taste like cardboard on my own.”
GABRIELLE AND HER parents always tried to sit down together for dinner as often as they could. Her mom and dad insisted on it, but Gabrielle didn't mind all that much. They all had such busy schedules, and she liked having time with them.
Ten minutes into dinner, and right after Sal had just been scolded for a second time by Gabrielle's mom for feeding Venus the dog scraps of food under the table, the doorbell rang throughout the house.
Sal left to open it and when he returned to the dining room, he was wearing a very amused, knowing grin. The reason for this became evident when Nicky, looking all kinds of sheepish, followed in behind him.
Gabrielle's appetite vanished. Why was the jerk at her house? Her safe place? What, he hadn't kicked her heart hard enough already and he was back for round two? Her fork dropped to her plate with a loud clatter. Before she could tell him to leave, her mom had jumped up from the table.
“Nicolas!” She smushed his cheeks together and kissed them—something she'd been doing since he was a little boy.
Gabrielle's and Nicky's parents had been friends for years, and for some reason, her mom and dad had always adored Nicky. Maybe it was because they were two of the only people he'd ever shown any respect, but more than likely it was because they were just the kind of people who liked everybody.
“Have you eaten? Sal, go get Nicolas a plate. You can sit down and eat with us, hon. I made plenty.”
“Run while you still can,” Sal hissed, and his wife swatted at him playfully.
“Sure, that'd be nice.” An awkward Nicky had been trying to catch Gabrielle's eye, but she was making a point of ignoring him.
“Mom!” she protested. “He can't have dinner with us!”
“Gabrielle! Don't be so rude, he's always welcome.”
“But—”
“Hush, Gabrielle!”
“God!” She wasn't about to sit and watch her parents fawn all over Nicky like he was the prince of all delightful things. She knew she'd probably end up grounded, but she pushed herself away from the table anyway and stormed from the room and then right out of the front door, slamming it forcefully behind her.
She should have known Nicky would follow straight after her—she didn't exactly imagine he'd shown up to eat undercooked pasta with her parents. He reached her just as she stopped at her car, and when she tried to open her door he span her to face him and pressed her against it, resting his hands on the metal on either side of her and boxing her in.
Gabrielle sighed disdainfully. “What do you want now? I'm not embarrassing myself again for you if that's what you're here for.”
“I figured out why you were so mad at me!” he exclaimed earnestly.
“Wow,” she countered. “Totally awesome. How good for you. I'm so glad you came all the way to my house to bug me with that.”
“Listen to me a second, you snarky bitch. The reason you got so mad at me is 'cause you like me. Really like me.”
Sometimes boys could be so incredibly dumb that it actually made Gabrielle's head throb. “Duh! Why did you think I kept letting you stick your tongue in my mouth? And I don't just let any guy grope my breasts, you know! I'm not that easy.”
“You're a little bit easy,” he joked, and then he cringed. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Wrong time to kid. I know you're not easy. In fact, you're about the most difficult girl I know.”
She tried to push him away, but he wouldn't let her.“Nicky—”
“Don't, Gab, please. I'm sorry, okay? I'm an idiot and this is all coming out wrong.” He leaned his forehead against her shoulder for a moment, and then lifted his head to look at her. “I didn't realize that you like me. I thought you were just into the whole hooking up thing. I didn't get that you...you actually care about me.”
Was he messing with her? Like she needed to hear about her stupidity out loud, from him of all people.“Go screw yourself!” She pushed his arms away from her car, but he just moved them to her waist, gripping her desperately with his hands. His fingers held tightly onto her skin, and he was almost trembling.
“Come by my place and have dinner tomorrow,” he suggested. He sounded nonchalant, but Gabrielle could hear the strain in his voice. “You could meet my folks or somethin'. Whatever.” And then his shaking hands and tenseness made sense...he was nervous!
Something that felt a lot like hope bloomed within Gabrielle's heart, but she was still cautious. “Why?”
“Do I really need to say it?” he asked uncomfortably, and she could have sworn he blushed, but it was too dark to really tell. She nodded eagerly, and he sighed. “Because I care about you too.”
Gabrielle made a happy 'squee!' noise and jumped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She kissed him, or he kissed her, but then it didn't really matter because they were kissing passionately and he was making the best kind of noises in t
he back of his throat. He held her butt with one hand and her head with the other, and she really hoped her parents weren't watching through the window because they way he pushed her against the car was just sinful. Wonderfully, wonderfully sinful.
Pulling back suddenly, she said, “You do realize I've already met your parents like a gazillion times? I've know them forever.”
“Yeah, but...I was making a statement.”
“Oh. It was a good one.”
He kissed her again. “Happy now, you crazy bitch?”
“Ecstatic, you dumb ass punk.”
GABLE BLINKED. ALREADY her heart was hurting as the memories resurfaced. No more. Nicky needed to be placed in a box in the back of her mind to be forgotten all about.
No more.
NICKY PRODDED AT his toast the next morning, knowing he should make an effort to eat breakfast but not feeling hungry at all. By the time he eventually took a bite, it had gone cold and the butter had congealed into a horrible, lumpy mess. He threw the rest of it down in disgust.
“Does anyone else think it's weird how easily Pablo's guys let us go last night?” he finally asked, pushing his plate away. Zay and Walker, also up and eating, looked at him speculatively. “It would've been easier for them to kill us and get us outta the way.”
Zay finished slurping the milk from his cereal—ignoring Walker's annoyed glare as he did—and shrugged in a way that was clearly supposed to be casual, though he didn't quite pull it off. “Pains me to admit it, but we're hardly a threat to those guys right now. You know how underfunded and understaffed we are. Dad thinks we might be better equipped to fight them when you're trained up a bit more, but until then, we're just pesky flies buzzing around Pablo's shoulders. But Pablo's not an idiot; he knows that if he killed us off, it would finally force the rest of the Guardian empire to take action, declare war against him.”
