Page 21 of Where She Belongs
She laughs, the sound echoing in the confined space. “A ringing endorsement for your amazing performance then. You make a very good plus-one, Dr. Vasquez.”
The way she says my title, a little breathless and with a hint of teasing, sends a shiver down my spine. I’m suddenly aware of how close we’re standing in the elevator.
“And you make a beautiful bride’s mother, Dr. Martin,” I reply, matching her playful tone.
Her eyes crinkle in amusement. “Just the bride’s mother?”
The elevator doors open before I can answer and we step out into the hallway. The silence between us suddenly feels charged as I fumble with the key card, hyperaware of Andrea’s presence beside me.
When the door finally swings open, we hesitate on the threshold. The enormity of sharing the suite with her suddenly hits me. It shouldn’t but it does.
“After you,” I manage, stepping aside to let her enter first.
Andrea moves past me, the scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. I follow, closing the door behind us with a soft click that seems to echo in the quiet room.
“I’m going to head to my room,” she says, cocking her head toward the master bedroom. “You sure you’re going to be okay sleeping on the sofa bed?”
“Of course,” I say, forcing a casual tone.
Andrea nods, but doesn’t move toward her room. She stands there, fidgeting with the strap of her purse, looking like she wants to say something more.
“Gabe, I...” she starts, then trails off. Her eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of uncertainty there. “Thank you. For everything tonight. For being here.”
“Always,” I reply, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
“Well, good night.”
“Good night, Andie.” Before I can say any more, she disappears into her room and closes the door behind her.
As I head to the guest bathroom, I hear the sound of her shower starting up. The sound of running water mingles with the distant crash of the waves below, a rhythmic backdrop that does nothing to calm my racing thoughts.
I splash some cold water on my face, trying to clear my head. But as I dry off, my mind drifts back to the way Andrea felt in my arms during that dance, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. I remember every detail with startling clarity—the curve of her neck, the…
Focus, Gabe. This isn’t why you’re here.
Exactly. The old Gabe would have already left the resort to meet up with Valerie at her hotel for drinks and more. It’s not like we didn’t run into each other at baggage claim and she told me which hotel she and her crew would be staying at.
“I’ll be at the bar if you’re so inclined,” she’d said and up until the moment when Andrea declared to everyone that we were sharing the suite, I had every inclination to spend the night with Valerie.
But something shifted when Andrea grabbed my arm and claimed me as hers. The familiar thrill of pursuit—theanticipation of a night with no strings attached—gave way to something more compelling. More meaningful. I realized I'd rather play pretend with Andrea than live out reality with Valerie.
Strange how a lie can sometimes feel more honest than the truth.
Was Simon right to say what he said?
I shake my head, trying to clear these dangerous thoughts. This line of thinking leads nowhere good. Andrea is my friend, my mentor. She’s still healing from Simon’s betrayal. The last thing she needs is me complicating things with misplaced feelings.
But as I change into sleep clothes and settle onto the sofa bed, I can’t shake the memory of her hand in mine, the way she leaned into me during that dance, the way her laugh made my stomach clench, the?—
I groan, rolling onto my side away from her bedroom door.
This is going to be a long four days.
SEVEN
I wake up disoriented,reaching for my phone before realizing the sound in my ears isn’t my morning alarm. Instead, it’s waves crashing against a Hawaiian shore.
I lay my head back down on the pillow and exhale. Twenty-four hours I go, I had a plan: keep my distance from Simon and survive the wedding. Then head back home.
