It’s late afternoon when we all decide to pack up and call it a day.
On the ride back home, everyone remains quiet, exhausted from the sun exposure and heat. Even Pixy is snoring in the back. I somewhat hate silence, it gives me too much time to think.
When we reach home, I help Chance and Aubrey unload as Gabriella waves goodbye. She pauses for a moment as if she’s going to say something but decides against it and says goodbye with a warm smile.
Inside, Chance calls starvation and orders us some pizza much to Aubrey’s disapproval.
An hour later, I answer the door, paying the delivery guy when I glance over and see Gabriella’s house. Placing the boxes on the kitchen countertop, I yell out that I’ll be back in five minutes, slipping my sneakers on before walking outside.
I knock on her door, unsure of why I feel compelled to see her. Moments later, the porch light flashes on, and behind the glass window, I see Gabriella’s face peeking through. Her confused expression pulls away as the sound of the locks click, and the door is opened.
“I just came to say it wasn’t my decision to be an ex-soccer player,” I mumble, unable to make eye contact with her. “I got… I got in a motorcycle accident and was injured. So there, piece to your puzzle.”
I don’t want her pity, I’ve carried enough of that on my own. I just don’t want any more speculation. She has the facts, and whatever she does with them is now her business.
As I walk away with my back turned, she calls my name. I spin around, stopping just shy of the gate.
“I need to figure out if the life my father has planned for me is the life I’m willing to settle for.” She sighs, slumping her body against the door frame. “So there, the piece to your puzzle.”
It’s not the entire piece, but for tonight, it left me with a glimmer of something. In a world full of fine, we both are not fine. We all have our crosses bearing heavily on our souls, but sometimes, there’s this unexplainable presence of someone who makes life worth living again.
Like a breath of fresh fucking air.
I walk back home, unable to stop thinking about Gabriella. She has an unusual predicament being controlled by her father. Honestly, it’s like something out of a 1950’s movie. I had questions, lots of them. But there would be a time and a place when the puzzle would make a complete picture.
Sitting on the lounge surrounded by Chance laughing obnoxiously over some commercial and Aubrey almost passed out on wine, I scroll through my phone and see the lists of girls’ numbers I collected today.
Not a bad haul, I think.
I could get laid tonight.
Or score a good blowie since it’s been forever.
Yet, only one thing replays on my mind, and it’s the one thing I can’t shake off.
I’m missing her number.
Gabriella Carmichael.
And with that thought consuming me, I know I have to do whatever I can to get it.
Even if it means being the biggest pain in her beautiful arse.
Gabriella
The familiar brown-uniformed driver pulls up to the curb first thing on Monday morning.
Jamie, as he introduced himself last week, has got his job down to a T. A quick stop, then run to the back of his truck where he sorts out the packages until he pulls out a large box with both his hands and begins to walk toward me.
“Hey, Gabriella,” he greets, juggling the box until he places it on the porch directly by my feet.
“Hi, Jamie.” My eyes wander toward the large box wondering what on earth could be inside. Sebastian is relentless with showering me in gifts. “It’s a big one today.”
James chuckles beneath his cap, handing me his device to sign my name. “A dime for every time I’ve heard that.” He winks, walking away with a slight skip in his step as I thank him, unable to hide the smile from my embarrassing comment.
Curiosity gets the better of me. Tearing off the tape, I pull out the flaps, and inside the box sits a large giraffe. Struggling to remove it, I finally pull it all out and place it in front of me.
The stuffed giraffe sits at over three feet tall, reaching the top of my chest. At the rate he’s going with stuffed animals, soon I will be able to open an imaginary zoo.
My eyes hazily wander to the envelope, removing the card to read what it says.
How about our honeymoon in Africa?
Love, Prince Charming.
I let out a sigh. A smile wavering as the internal conflict of the whole situation rests heavily on my shoulders. As if the weight is bearing me down, I take a seat on the old wicker chair, staring blankly at the giraffe and trying to acknowledge the word ‘honeymoon.’
Sebastian is trying his best, I have to give him that.
It was a joke. One day over dinner, a friend of his was talking about Africa, and I mentioned how much I loved giraffes but have never seen one.
A honeymoon.
My chest begins to cave in, while a sense of overwhelming thoughts floods my brain within seconds.
Where will we live?
Sebastian’s family owns a ranch not too far from us. He has his own quarters, but the thought of living with the Kings is enough to make me run away and change my identity for good. They are nasty, ruthless, and I have overheard on more than one occasion that his father is part of some underground mob.
“Planning a trip to Africa?” The familiar voice startles me, my hand instinctively covering my chest to calm my racing heart. Oliver is leaning over the fence curiously watching me. I’m not immune
