Page 68 of Forever & Always You
“Austin .?.?.”
“I know, Gabby,” he says with a defeated groan. “I know not yet. But one day?”
“One day,” I promise, and then flash him a teasing grin. “So I think this means you’re my boyfriend now. Or would you like to formally ask me? We can’t confessI love youin the shower andnotbe together. You’re stuck with me now whether you like it ornot.Forever.”
Austin’s shoulders visibly relax as the sound of his gentle laugh echoes around the bathroom. “There she is,” he says. “My goofy Gabby.”
“Your goofy Gabby.”
We smile at one another through the flowing water for what seems like an eternity, but an eternity I’d be happy to endure. And then he says, in a voice like silk, “I want nothing more than to be stuck with you forever, Gabrielle.”
I sit up on my knees, stretch through the water to grab a fistful of his soaked shirt, and pull his lips to mine.
24
There are pancakes available at the breakfast buffet in the morning, soof courseAustin and I exchange an amused smile before stacking some on our plates. It’s Sunday, and we’re together, and the rule is that when we’re together on Sundays we have to have pancakes. It’s literally an official agreement.
“Dad’s waving us over to join them,” Austin grumbles into my ear, and I follow the direction of his gaze to a table by the window where Caroline and Mike are already tucking into their breakfast.
“Then let’s join them.”
Austin raises an eyebrow at the suggestion. “Really?”
“Ignoring them at breakfast won’t do me any favors,” I point out with a shrug, starting forward in his parents’ direction. “I have to just keep trying my best to win them over. Since Iamyour girlfriend and all.”
We weave our way through the hotel restaurant toward Caroline and Mike, and I greet them with a timid smile. Surprisingly, Caroline seems rather abashed this morning. She nods meekly and then stares into her cup of coffee. Mike, on the other hand, was too drunk last night to have even noticed my chat with Caroline and is none the wiser to the tension. He pullsout chairs and keenly gestures for Austin and me to sit.
“Good morning, Champ!” he says, clapping a hand proudly over Austin’s shoulder. “Get any sleep or was the champagne flowing all night? Those glasses went down a little too easy .?.?. I’m feeling rather tender this morning.”
Austin blushes, just a little. We didn’t get much sleep last night at all, but it certainly wasn’t because we were popping more celebratory champagne.
“It was a great night,” is the only response Austin manages. He gives his mother a pointed look. “And how are you this morning, Mom?”
“I think maybe the champagne got to me a little too .?.?.” she mumbles. Lifting her gaze, she finds mine. “Gabrielle, I’d like to apologize for the things I said last night. Austin can make his own decisions, and I’ve taken on board what you had to say, and I .?.?. Well, I believe you.”
Mike furrows his brows and glances between Caroline and me with confusion. “What did Gabrielle say?” he questions. “Caroline? What did she say?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Caroline hisses, shushing him.
Mike rolls his eyes, then points a knife at Austin. “Have you seen the news?”
“No .?.?.?” Austin answers, narrowing his eyes with curiosity.
“The storm watch was changed to a warning.”
“There was a storm watch?”
“Oh, c’mon, get your head out of the stock market and check your local weather reports, for God’s sake,” Mike says with a disapproving shake of his head. “Winds are starting to pick up on the coast already, and it’s looking like the rain will pass over Wilmington in the early hours of tomorrow. We’re hitting the road after this to get the house secured and I suggest you do the same.”
“Shit, okay.”
“And stock up on supplies,” Caroline instructs. “Just in case your power gets cut off.”
I stare somberly at my plate of pancakes, because although I adore living on the east coast, I do not like our hurricane season. Hurricane Florence was the last major storm to hit the Carolinas six years ago, and coastal homes were submerged as widespread floods wrecked Wilmington. It was the September I started studying at Duke, so I was safe further inland in Durham, glued to the TV news in my dorm while my parents evacuated our home. There was extensive damage to the first floor thanks to the thirty inches of rain that was dumped over the city.
“It’s definitely just a tropical storm, though, right?” I ask nervously, glancing up at Mike in hope of some reassurance. I should really get out of my little Austin bubble and pay more attention to the news. “No chance of it being upgraded to a category one?”
“Definitely just a storm,” Mike confirms, but is there even such a thing asjusta storm?
