Page 47 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
I peeked over Gabriel’s shoulder at a group of teen boys walking past with a boombox blasting hip hop.
“I’d bang her against a wall, too, if I had the chance,” one of them called as they crossed the street. He punched the air. “Keep up the good work, dude.”
Gabriel’s forehead dropped against mine. Silent laughter shook his body. “Fuck. Maybe we should get a room.”
“There’s a flophouse just a few blocks away on the Bowery.” I jerked my thumb in the general direction. “Only ten bucks a night.”
“Your local knowledge issucha turn-on.”
We laughed and he kissed me once more before lowering me to my feet.
“Jesus,” he said, running his hand down his face. “That was…” He blew air out of his cheeks, temporarily at a loss for words.
My brain was mush so I couldn’t be of any help.
“Better than my wildest dreams,” he said finally, coming back in for another kiss, this one softer and sweeter but all too brief. “Hey, did you see Lou Reed?”
“I knew that was him!”
Gabriel nodded. “I didn’t want to bother him. He looked like he needed some space,” he said, tucking a lock of hair into my hat and looping the stray end of my scarf around my neck to keep me warm. “So what are you doing tonight? Devin’s band has a gig?—”
I held up my hand to stop him. Reality had encroached on my little fantasy world.
“I can’t. I really need to go home,” I said reluctantly.
He looked down the street with his jaw clenched.
With a loud exhale he tipped his face up to the sky like he was praying for patience.
“You’re killing me, you know that?” he said, his voice strained. “Do you know how many times I had to stop myself from picking up the phone and calling you? Do you know how many times I’ve walked past House of Simone on the off chance I’d see you? And then I walked into Monks last month and there you were, and it felt like maybe,maybeour time had finally come. But the very next day you took off. And today…today I told myself this is it. There’s a reason our paths crossed again and I?—”
I put my hand on his chest right over his heart. “Gabriel.” That was all I said. Just his name. It sounded like a plea or a prayer but I didn’t know what I was praying for.
“Cleo.” He gave me a sad smile. “I want to drive my chariot down your street.”
I put my fingers over his lips. “Don’t say that,” I said. “How did you know?”
“I saw your face. I havealwaysseen you. Even when I wasn’t supposed to, I saw you, Cleo.” He kissed my fingers and lowered my hand to my side, still holding it. “This isn’t an infatuation. This isn’t some superficial thing just because I’m physically attracted to you. Which I am.Obviously. But I could sit and listen to you talk for hours. I could kiss you for days, nights, weeks. I want to dance in the rain with you and read you poetry and sit next to you on the rooftop under a creamsicle sky and shout to the world that Cleo Babington chose me. I want you to choose me.”
My throat closed up and I forgot how to breathe.
All my life I’d been waiting forhim.
The one I could talk to about everything and nothing.
The one who got me like no one else ever had.
The one who gave me butterflies and kissed me like it was the main event, not the prelude, and set my soul on fire.
Now here he was.
Right person, wrong time.
It was too much. All of it. I wasn’t ready for him. For this. For us.
Even so, a big part of me was tempted to say,Fuck it, let’s do it.
Let’s swap life stories and dance in the rain and share a toothbrush holder and a life. Who cares if I have to backstab a friend to be with you?
