Page 100 of Gabriel
I wasn’t surprised he’d found me here.
Gabriel had a habit of appearing wherever I was. He was always observing, always present in a way that made you feel noticed and catalogued.
“Hello, Amara.”
It was the first time I’d heard his voice. Warm gravel, smooth and low.
“You shouldn’t be in dark libraries alone,” he drawled.
I paused, tilting my head. “Is that meant to be a greeting or a warning?”
“A greeting,” he replied easily. “But it could be both.”
I crossed my arms, schooling my expression into something unreadable. “You’ve been watching me.”
“I have,” he said without shame or remorse. “You walk like you’re one decision away from taking over the school. I find it compelling.”
I lifted a brow. “Is that supposed to be flattery?”
“No.” He stepped closer, hands deep in his coat pockets, like he didn’t want them doing anything else. “Flattery is for people who want something. I just enjoy making observations.”
“Careful,” I said. “You’re two compliments away from sounding rehearsed.”
He tilted his head, mock-considering. “Would it impress you if I said I don’t rehearse anything?”
“It would concern me,” I said, the mahogany desk the only thing separating us now. I fought the urge to stand up, because seated like this, I had to tilt my head up to watch him. “People who don’t plan are usually dangerous, arrogant, or just plain stupid.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised there’s a sharp tongue behind those lips,” he said, and then added, “I find it very… attractive.”
Of course he did.
The worst part? It didn’t sound like some clumsy line. Gabriel Santos didn’t speak like a flirt. He spoke like someone who already knew your pressure points and was choosing, for now, not to press them.
“Funny,” I said coolly, though I could feel the heat rising beneath my collar. “I don’t find you attractive at all.”
He didn’t flinch. Just watched me, eyes glinting. “I wonder if you always lie to yourself.”
“I expect about as much as you do,” I replied, “what with telling yourself you’re charming.”
He blinked, and then he laughed again—lower this time, like he was genuinely enjoying himself.
“So we’re trading jabs now?” he asked, stepping just a little closer, enough that the shadows danced between us. “Alright. You’re sharper than I expected.”
“Of course I am, I’m my parents’ daughter after all.”
“That,” he said, his gaze dragging over me, “was never in question.”
It wasn’t surprising that he knew who I was, but the fact that my face flushed with heat definitely was. Of course, he noticed. I saw the flicker of amusement twitch at the edge of his mouth. He enjoyed seeing me flustered, and even more, he enjoyed being the cause.
“I’m not interested in your flirting,” I said quickly.
“Sure you are,” he replied. “You just haven’t decided what to do with that interest yet.”
My jaw tightened. “You think you’re so clever.”
“I know I am.”
I pushed the chair out of my way, the old wood creaking. Books were still scattered around me, open and waiting. I didn’t give them a second thought.
