“No, I grew up in upstate New York. My mom has a strong accent, but the rest of us don’t.”
“So are you glad to be back down here?” I asked.
“I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really wanna come back. I was supposed to be starting college this past fall, and I had everything all planned.”
“How did you end up here?”
“My mom’s brother died, and he left us the house and everything. Since it’s the family estate, my mom refused to sell it, and she insisted that I postpone all my plans for higher education and come back here. Selena was more than happy to drop out, but I’d been looking forward to NYU.”
“That seems like a weird thing for a parent to insist,” I said. “I don’t have any experience with higher education, but I thought that parents usually pushed for you to go.”
“Yeah, my mom can be strange sometimes.” He shook his head. “What about you?”
“I’m mostly just passing through.” I evaded the question as best I could. Things always went much better when people didn’t know I lived with a traveling carnival.
He leaned back, and I felt his eyes searching me again. “So, what are you, some kind of vagabond?”
“What?” I laughed to cover up how caught off-guard I felt. “Why do you ask that?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “You implied that you’re traveling soon, and you kinda look bohemian.”
“How do bohemians look?” I asked.
“Like you?” he asked, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s the earrings.”
My earrings were dangling feathers, and I touched one. “The feathers? Madonna has an earring like this.”
He looked down and pointed to my arms. “What about those? Do they mean anything?”
All down my left forearm, I had tattoos of little black paw prints leaving a trail from my inner elbow down to my wrist. I touched them when Gabe leaned over to get a better look. He was so close, I could smell the mousse in his hair, clean and fresh.
“Not really. I just thought it’d be cool.”
“They are pretty cool,” Gabe agreed.
He reached out to touch them, and the light umber skin of his hand was nearly as dark as my own. His fingers trailed across my skin, sending small tingles down my arm everywhere he touched.
Then he stopped and leaned back to look up at me. His eyes were mesmerizing, but it was his mouth that really caught me. His lips seemed to have this permanent smile at the edges, even when he wasn’t really grinning, like he knew some kind of private joke.
His eyes weren’t enchanting because of the rich color, but because of the wicked glimmer to them. Somehow, even when I was outside and too far away to really see, I’d noticed that gleam—a promise of something a little sinful and dangerous—that made my heart pound loudly. As he looked at me now, I felt my pulse quicken and heat flush my skin.
That’s what I’d thought I should’ve feared when I was downstairs, but in truth, it was that glint of something else that had actually brought me here.
“Do you have any more tattoos?” he asked.
“A couple. But they’re hidden under my clothes.”
He smiled crookedly. “Maybe I can see them some other time then.”
I laughed but didn’t disagree with him. “What about you? Do you have any tattoos?”
“None yet, but it’s for the best. My parents would kill me if I got one.”
The music stopped, followed by the sound of the tape clicking a few seconds later. Gabe got up and went over to the stereo so he could switch it over. While he was up, he took off his blazer and tossed it on his hamper, leaving him in just a white T-shirt that fit nicely over his toned frame.
The music started playing again, and Gabe sat down next to me again, sitting closer than he had before, but I didn’t comment on the mere inches between us. He leaned back a bit so he propped himself up on his elbows.
When he did, his shirt rode up just a little bit, exposing the smooth flesh above his jeans. I saw the hint of the outlines of his muscles before he pulled his shirt back down, covering himself, and I looked away before he caught me staring at him.
“I just realized something,” Gabe said. “We’ve been talking about me the whole time, and you’ve hardly said anything about yourself.”
I shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Oh, I really doubt that. You’re all dark and mysterious.” He swirled his hand in front of me, as if to emphasize the mystery. “I bet you’re filled with untold secrets.”
I laughed. “I’m not, really.”
“Prove it,” he challenged me. “Tell me a secret. Any secret.”
“Okay.” I bit my lip, thinking. “What constitutes a secret?”
“Something you’ve never told anyone before.”
“Not anyone ever?” I asked.
He shook his head resolutely. “Nope.”
I leaned back and crossed my leg over my knee as I thought. Truthfully, I had plenty of secrets. But it was hard to think of something that I would want this guy to know.