Page 37 of Where She Belongs
The question carries a casual tone, but there’s something in his expression that suggests this is more than just idle curiosity for him too.
“Definitely,” I reply, matching his light tone while my heart races beneath it. “I’m very invested in thorough research.”
His smile—warm and genuine—follows me as I head for the shower. This is still pretending, I tell myself firmly. Just curiosity, just acting, just an experiment between friends.
Even if nothing between us feels like pretend anymore.
The ocean breeze rustles the edges of our napkins as I settle at the beachside café table, still flustered from rushing through the final dress fitting. I’d barely had time to change back into my sundress before hurrying to meet everyone for lunch. The mother-of-the-bride gown had fit perfectly after the seamstress’s adjustments—a sleek champagne-colored creation with delicate beading that had made Tristy tear up when she saw me in it.
“There she is,” Gabe says, standing as I approach. His smile seems carefully neutral, though something flickers in his eyeswhen they meet mine—the memory of this morning’s kiss hanging between us like an unspoken question.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say, taking the empty seat beside him, hyperaware of the careful distance I maintain. “The fitting took longer than expected.”
“Worth the wait, I hope?” he asks as I settle in.
“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see,” Tristy interjects with a grin. “But trust me, Mom looks amazing.”
I feel heat rise in my cheeks, remembering how I’d blushed furiously in the fitting room when Tristy had commented on how Gabe wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me. The memory of his lips on mine this morning, the weight of his body against mine, had been impossible to shake throughout the entire appointment.
“I don’t doubt it,” Gabe replies, his voice carrying that smooth confidence that’s charmed half the women in northern New Mexico. The same voice that had whispered “for science” before kissing me this morning.
I reach for my water glass, needing something to do with my hands that doesn’t involve touching him. Around the table, conversation flows easily—Tristy and Tyler discussing final wedding details, Dax and Harlow debating the merits of different snorkeling spots. It feels normal, casual, as if this morning never happened. As if everything between Gabe and me is still the same.
But it isn’t. The air between us vibrates with unspoken awareness, with possibilities neither of us seems ready to articulate.
“You are not going to believe what just popped up on my feed,” Tyler suddenly says, his face lit with unholy glee as he slides his phone across the table toward Tristy, shattering my thoughts.
Tristy’s eyes widen as she looks at the screen. “Oh. My. God.” She glances up at Gabe, then back at the phone, then at me. “This is... unexpected.”
“What?” I ask, trying to see what they’re looking at.
“Nothing,” Gabe says quickly, reaching for the phone, but Tyler snatches it back.
“Not nothing, dude. Definitely something.”
Dax leans over to look, then lets out a low whistle. “Busted, bro.”
“Will someone please explain what’s going on?” I ask, irritation edging into my voice.
Tristy bites her lip, glancing between me and Gabe with an expression I can’t quite interpret. “It’s, um, an Instagram post. From three months ago.”
“The exact time you two supposedly started dating,” Tyler adds, his tone suggesting he’s enjoying this far too much.
Gabe’s expression has gone carefully neutral, but I can see tension in the set of his shoulders. Something cold and anxious curls in my stomach.
“Just show me,” I say, holding out my hand for the phone.
With obvious reluctance, Tyler passes it to me. The screen displays an Instagram post from an account I don’t recognize—@SkyHighVal—dated exactly three months earlier. The image shows a hot tub at night, snow falling heavily around it. Two glasses of wine sit on the edge, and though the photo is artfully angled to show mostly the winter scene, there’s clearly someone in the water—a man’s broad shoulders visible from behind, dark hair gleaming wet.
The caption reads:Snowstorm silver lining. Stranded in Denver with the hottest doctor west of the Mississippi. Some layovers are worth the wait. #SnowDay #HotTubHottie #DoctorFeelGood
I stare at the image, recognition dawning slowly. The man in the hot tub is unmistakably Gabe. And the woman taking the photo—Valerie. The flight attendant from our flight to Hawaii, the one who’d greeted him by name, the one he’d been deliberately vague about when I questioned him.
“It’s going viral,” Tyler explains, a little too enthusiastically. “Someone recognized Dr. Vasquez from Tristy’s posts about youtwo, and now it’s getting reshared like crazy. The comments are... interesting.”
I scroll down to see the comments, each one landing like a tiny dagger.
Wait, isn’t this the same doctor who’s dating Tristy’s mom?
