Page 16 of Gabriel's Album

“Three sisters. Celeste, Evangeline, and Dina. They’re the best.”

I smile as the image of my three sisters pops into my head. They’re all blonde-haired and blue-eyed like me. People used to joke that we looked like The Children of the Corn when we were growing up.

Ariana looks thoughtful and frowns before her expression clears and she laughs a sweet, amused laugh.

“Your parents went hard on the whole angel theme, then?”

I can’t help but laugh too. “You spotted that, huh. Yeah, Celeste was just a random choice, then they kind of kept up the whole celestial theme with the rest of our names.”

“It must be a lot of responsibility naming another human being if you think about it. I mean, that person has that name for the rest of their lives, and you don’t even know if it’ll suit them.”

“They can always change it if they don’t like it, though.” I shrug at her.

“No way; I know plenty of people who hate their name, but they’ve never changed it. They just go around in the world with a name they hate because their parents screwed the pooch when they were born.”

She’s put a lot of thought into such a random topic that I can’t resist teasing her. “Does the name Ariana mean ‘overthinks things way too much,’ by any chance?”

Ariana blushes and hands me a peeled carrot that I chop for the salad as she begins washing the tomatoes.

“No, it means ‘very holy,’ thank you, very much.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Very holy?” I stop cutting the carrot to look her up and down. “Accurate name. I certainly feel like worshipping at your feet.”

I’ll be damned if it isn’t the truth. I don’t know what it is about her. Maybe it’s that she seems so insecure, but if she could see herself the way that I see her, she would be strutting around with all the confidence in the world.

“Well, maybe you can, later. It depends on how tasty the chicken is, I guess.”

“Oh, really?” I raise an eyebrow at her in amusement. “If I can’t cook, you won’t consider sleeping with me?”

“Correct. Think of it as an audition. If your chicken is good, thenmaybeyou’ll get a callback.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on my capability of baking a chicken.”

I laugh and pray to all manner of gods that I don’t burn the garlic chicken tonight while I’m cutting up the cheese for the salad.

Ariana smiles at me. “Do you think you’re up for the test?”

I drop the cheese into the salad, wipe my hands on a towel, tilt her face up to look at me, and say, “Yes.”

I drop my lips to hers and kiss her. She tastes sweet, and I’m semi-hard and thinking about dragging her to my bedroom again like the damn caveman she keeps bringing out in me when the timer goes off to tell me that the chicken is ready.

“Saved by the bell, Ari.” I wink at her.

“You say, ‘saved,’ I say ‘thwarted.’”

I laugh again and marvel at her quick wit. She keeps making me laugh, and I like it. I grab the oven mitts and open the oven to pull the chicken out while Ariana finishes up with the salad. I get that odd feeling of déjà vu again, as though I’ve lived this night a thousand times before. Making dinner with Ariana feels natural and so right.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask, once again feeling disconcerted by the strange feeling.

“I’ll have vodka and orange if you’ve got it.”

I get her drink and get myself a whisky. Fucking Sebastian has gotten me into drinking Glenfiddich lately. I’m hoping that Ariana won’t realize that the bottle of whisky I’ve just poured from is worth most people’s monthly rent, if not more. I’m such a douchebag, but it tastessofucking good.

Luckily, she’s distracted by serving up our meals, and I place our drinks on the table before going back to the kitchen and getting my plate. She carries her plate and follows me, and we sit down next to each other at the table.

“How was work this week?” I ask her.

“Boring as shit. I hate it.” Ariana rolls her eyes.

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