Page 10 of Good Guy Gabe

“Your model isn’t going to be walking down the catwalk with her arms like this.”

“First of all, I still want you to be the model, and don’t give me thattoo oldshit. Second of all, Gabe liked you so much he subscribed to your channel. I saw him in the comments. He was flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t flirting with me! He was asking for demonstrations.”

“And considering you don’t even have a phone right now, that was the closest thing to flirting he could do without being a creeper. You should ask him out when he comes to get that quilt.”

“Too late. It’s today. I left it with Barb in the shop.”

“You sneaky bitch, you,” Cora gasps. “That’s why you wanted to do this today. So you could hide from him.”

“I am absolutely not hiding! I am—” I’m interrupted by a knock on the door downstairs.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, did Tilly lock herself out and forget the passcode?”

“Pregnancy brain?” I reason, not sure if that’s a thing at only six weeks. She’s having a rough time in general, has for a few years now. The pregnancy was a one-night stand gone wrong. She’s excited but scared, and she’s a contractor, so there’s no maternity leave. Thankfully, the baby will have two aunties right here. One of them even has a nursery.

That’s been dormant for six years.

My apartment is mostly normal. Nice kitchen, little breakfast nook that’s more than enough for me, two whole bedrooms anda comfy living room I’m hardly ever in. But that nursery is the one thing from my past I will not let go.

“9317!” I yell down as Cora smacks my underarm to get it up in the air again. “Why could you possibly need me to do this?” I grumble over heavy stomps up the stairs. “It’s the dumbest—”

“Oh no,” someone who is definitely not Tilly says, and through the reflections in the mirrors set up around me, my eyes meet Gabe’s a dozen times.

I shriek, attempting to cover myself. One of my stupid heels slips. I start to tumble, only to be caught in Gabe’s arms.

His massive, strong, secure arms.

I see his eyes first, of course, noticing this time that they’re the sort of hazel that starts blue in the center before feathering out to an earthy green.

His beard has been trimmed up, the ginger frizz tapered down to a long but tidy strip on his chin.

He’s in a tux.

He smells really nice.

I swallow hard and cover my chest with my arm. “Um, hi.”

“You gave me the code.”

“I thought you were Tilly.”

“I’m not.”

He gently sets me back on my feet, his hands skimming my sides to make sure I’m solid before he lets go of me.

“That was fucking hot,” Cora whispers.

I give her the most pained look while Gabe scrubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I thought you’d be ready by now.”

As Cora mutters something about how he’s even bigger in real life, I bring my hands up to my mouth to cover my gasp. “Oh my god, no, this is my fault. The quilt’s ready. I told Barb where it was. She must have forgotten.”

“Oh, she gave it to me. I meant you. I thoughtyou’dbe ready now.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going.”

He furrows his brows, and then his face goes red, his eyes giant, and he juts his hands out.

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