Page 64 of Bad at Love

“You said I had to bring someone, so I brought my roommate.”

“Roommate?” my father asks, the same time my mother scoffs and says, “No, Gabriel. I told you to bring adate.”

The look on her face is… well, it’s something that would have had me cowering before, shutting down and internalizing. But Storm brushes his fingers along my thigh and I get this wave of bravery I didn’t know I was capable of.

“Thenheis my date,” I say before pulling my chair out and sitting down. The second I do it, my head gets heavy and a wave of dizziness washes over me. But, hey, I did it.

Storm follows my lead and takes his seat, his calm and cool demeanor not faltering for a second. My ears are buzzing. I hardly make out the smirk on his lips, but I do see it there. Most of all, I feel it. I sense how calm he is, and I latch onto that energy for dear life. Because I may start crying at any second. This is a lot. This is too much. It’s the exact thing I feared before coming here.

I think I’m going to throw up.

How the hell is he not bothered by sitting at a table full of people he doesn’t know, knowing no one wants him here? How isn’t he crying right now?

The table is quiet for a very long time as I look over the menu, knowing I need to order a drink even though I never drink alcohol. The waitress comes over, breaking some of the tension. I don’t even know when the hostess left…

My father orders bottles of wine for the table, but I order a whiskey because I need something stronger than wine. You could never tell something is wrong by my father’s tone, but with the way my mother is glaring at me, it gives it all away.

The tension returns at an all-time high when the waitress leaves. It’s choking me. The silence lasts a few moments before my brother, Winston, opens his mouth to speak.

“So, I have some news,” he says brightly, looking around the table. “Come the new year, I will be starting my own practice.”

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful,” my mother says, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s still annoyed with me. At least her gaze has moved and the likeliness of her making my head explode has dwindled.

“It is, actually,” he answers, reaching for his glass of water.

“Of course it is,” my father adds. “I’m so proud of you. Great job. Soon enough, the rest will follow.”

“Except Gabriel,” my mother adds, reaching for her water. I flinch and hate myself for it. Just the way my name comes out of her mouth is triggering. It’s an indication that more is to come.

“I’m happy with what I do,” I comment quietly.

“Happiness doesn’t pay the bills,” is my mother’s response, which is tighter than usual.

The waitress returns with a helper and our drinks. Those who want wine, get poured wine. I get my whiskey and take a mouthful, hissing at the burn and holding back a gag, because oh my god, that is disgusting. There’s a hand on my thigh, and when I look down, I see it’s Storm’s. He gives me a little squeeze, and I put the glass down and take a slow breath. I put my hand on top of his, curling my fingers under his palm. And we stay like that until all hell breaks loose.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Storm

I should have been quicker to pull my hand away from Gabriel’s. When I heard his brother excuse himself to use the restroom, I should have moved my hand. I should have. But I didn’t. Neither did Gabriel. Not that I’ll put that on him. He’s too stressed to think. It’s my fault, and I will take full responsibility for it.

“You’re gay?” his brother hisses, stopping just behind us and glaring down at our hands as if they’re performing witchcraft.

Since this is the first timethatword has been said at the dinner table, I’m assuming they got Gabriel’s point. That he was only introducing me as his date because he was told tobringone—and nothing more. But now that we’re caught red-handed, well, there isn’t much else we can do about it.

Gabriel pulls his hand away as if I’ve burned him, and I look up at his brother while Gabriel curls in on himself. Noone introduced themselves to me, but I have eyes. His parents and brothers all have similar features. Enough to know they’re related.

“How dare you ruin our parents’ dinner like this?” his brother scoffs at me. I have no idea which brother he is. He isn’t the one who said he was starting his own practice, but one who looks younger.

I wait for Gabriel to say something. Everyone around the table is staring at us, wondering what is going on to cause his brother to say what he just said.

“You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life, Gabriel, but this is by far the w—”

“I would not finish that word if I were you,” I say through gritted teeth, hands balling into fists.

He raises a brow, shock all over his face. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

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