Smile for the Camera & Strike up the Band

Alessandria

“I can’t believe how beautiful Kara looked in her dress,” I murmured absently, focusing on pinning back a curl so it would no longer hang in my face. After the wedding, most of the women had gone back to their dwellings to change for the reception (since it was black and white themed, most of the men were already dressed for the occasion), and Erica had joined me back at Jack and Alex’s house to change dresses while our respective dates went ahead without us.

My friend nodded and unzipped her garment bag, running her hand over the fabric of her third dress and smiling. “I can’t believe how happy Rian looked. I mean,” she corrected herself, “The dude’s always happy, but that was just off the charts.”

“He’s in love,” I sang with a chuckle, undoing the back of my dress and letting it slide off, pooling at my feet. In a quick motion, I tugged my replacement dress up to my chest, then reached back. “Hey, Ric, can you get this for me?”

“Hm? Oh! Sure,” she took a few short steps toward me and pulled the zipper up to my shoulder blades, then raised an eyebrow at me. “How’d you get that scar?”

That scar. I’d almost forgotten about it. I reached back and ran my fingers over the thick white scar at the base of my neck--the one that looked like a tree, branching out in all directions. “It’s, um,” I cleared my throat, “From where he slammed my head against the ground.” I didn’t need to name names or places or dates; we both knew who, where, and when I was talking about.

“Oh,” she said, her voice softening, “Ria, I’m so sor--”

“It’s okay,” I told her with a shrug, turning to face her. For once, it was true. For once, that horrible scar wasn’t the heart-wrenching reminder that it used to be. “It’s just a scar.”

She studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly and looked me over. “That dress looks great on you.” I smiled and ran my hands over the black circle-patterned lace, and the black bow belt across the stomach; it was definitely my favorite of the dresses I’d brought along for the week-end.

I swapped out the grey pumps for some black ankle boots and shrugged on a long, black wool coat with a cinched belt and nodded to her, “Thanks. Now, put yours on so I can see how truly girly you are.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned, changing into her third dress in record time before turning to face me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. She frowned and looked down at herself, “What?” She demanded, “What’s wrong with it? I look ridiculous, don’t I? I knew it.”

“No, no,” I waved my hands, “It’s not that. It’s just…it’s super-girly, but somehow, it’s very you.” It was a strapless number, pleated and gathered, with an empire waist, white at the bodice and black below. Paired with black flats on her feet and blonde hair piled in casual bun, she looked…unnaturally natural.

She looked down at herself and gave me a small, tentative smile. “Yeah? This is the only one Cass let me pick for myself; I didn’t know if it was… Well, I mean, I just didn’t know.”

I patted her shoulder and told her, “You did good. And you,” I glanced up at what was left in the garment bag--a knee-length black peacoat--and raised my eyebrows, “You ripped off my wool coat idea!” I shoved her playfully and let her finish getting ready before looping my arm through hers and sighing lightly, “Well, if Gabe has the same taste as Patrick, this is going to go really well for you, that’s for sure. Outfit thief. Oh, and don’t think I can’t see that blush, missy!”

“I think I liked it better when you were mute.”

Erica

Alessandria and I made it to the Pier 5 hotel in Inner Harbor around the same time as everyone else that had gone to change, and it took us a while to locate our dates through the sea of bodies that was filtering through the doors. Luckily, they were standing together near some ridiculous ice sculpture of two swans, waving us over as soon as we squeezed through the crowd. Alessandria immediately went to Patrick, who held her by the arms and looked her over with a mixture of love and desire, all while I shuffled awkwardly a few feet in front of Gabe, who just stared at me.

After several long beats, Dacian tugged on Gabe’s shirt sleeve and said, with a furrowed brow, “It’s not nice to stare, Gabey.”

Gabe glanced at him with a little grin and said, “Sorry, little dude.” Then he looked back at me and smiled, “You look great, Erica.”

I looked down at my feet and blushed. “Thanks,” I mumbled, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my coat and rocking back and forth on my heels.

He touched my shoulder and I looked back up to see him looking at me softly, “Everyone’s sitting down to eat now. We saved a place near the head table; c’mon,” he slipped his hand in mine and started leading me through the dozens of tables in the large ballroom. Behind me, I could hear Alessandria snickering as she, Patrick and Dacian followed. I ended up in a seat between her and Gabe, while Patrick, Dacian, Deveraux, Jocelyn and Matt occupied the other seats and the wedding party filed in behind the head table. As Leslie started tapping her fork against her glass (seriously, what was with this woman and toasts?), Gabe reached under the table and covered my hand with his, sending electric shocks through my entire body, though I tried not to let it show, focusing all my attention on the mother of the bride.

“Thankyou all so much for being here today,” she said, voice already thick with unshed tears. “I won’t bore you with a long, boring speech; I just wanted to say how much it means to both of our families to be surrounded by such good friends on this very special day. Now, ladies and gentlemen,” from our seat, I could see tears begin to stream down her face as she lifted a glass of champagne, “It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you… Rian and Kara Dawson.” There was a roar of applause and cheers as the bride and groom entered the ballroom, hand-in-hand, matching piano-key smiles stretched across their faces.

Gabe took his hand from mine to clap, and I was more than a little unsettled by how disappointed I was at the absence of his fingers through mine. I tried to cover it by clapping and cheering along with everyone else, but I couldn’t quite manage. I wanted to be holding his hand again.

Luckily, it returned to mine as soon as the noise settled down and the wait staff began bringing out plates of food.

“This,” Alessandria said a while later, pointing with her fork to the eggplant parmesan she was devouring, “Is heaven on a plate.”

I shook my head and chuckled, “Uh oh, Alessandria. You’re not going the way of vegetarian like your boyfriend, are you?”

She made a face at me and continued to eat. Gabe leaned in and asked quietly, “How’s yours?”

“Dry,” I frowned down at the juiceless roast beef in front of me, “And a little rubbery.” I pushed it away, stomach growling angrily as I did so.

He chuckled and cut off a piece of his own eggplant parmesan (I was a carnivore in a land of herbivores, apparently) and speared it through with his fork, holding it out for me. “Here,” he said, “Try this.” Tentatively, I took the bite of eggplant and chewed, never taking my eyes from his, which were practically glittering pupils with a thin strip of gold around the edges.

“It’s good,” I muttered, voice barely audible.

He didn’t even note this. Instead, his face remained serious and focused. “Erica, I--”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” with a sigh of irritation, Gabe looked toward the head table, where a graying man with bright us was standing, holding a microphone. “At this time, we would like to invite up two very dear friends to my son-in-law--” Oh, so that was Henry Diakoulas. “--Patrick Stump and Annette Vader.”

“That’s my cue,” Patrick said, pressing a kiss to Alessandria’s cheek and ruffling Dacian’s hair before heading to the large section of floor where a PA system had been set up around the baby grand piano that I could only assume was a regular piece in the ballroom. Annette met him there, smoothing her hands over her black and white dress, and they exchanged a few last-minute notes as Henry continued.

“At this time, my beautiful daughter and I,” he gestured to Kara, who was standing, already with tears in her eyes, “Would like to invite all fathers and daughters to join us in a father-daughter dance.”

Alessandria

“Ahem,” Annette cleared her throat into the microphone, then smiled as Henry and Kara made their way to the dance floor. Patrick was seated behind the piano, sheet music spread out in front of him, while Annette held a guitar to her chest, ready to play. “This song was written by a good friend of ours,” she gestured in my direction, “Alessandria Stollson. She wrote it, specifically, for Kara and Henry, and we all sincerely hope you enjoy it.” As soon as the father and daughter were posed on the floor, Patrick began playing a soft, slow melody on the piano, and Annette joined in on guitar, then began to sing.

“‘Daddy’s little girl,’ she says, ‘I’m daddy’s little girl
And ain’t nothing in the world I’d rather be
‘Cause once daddy’s little girl, always daddy’s little girl
And you can’t take that kind of love away from me’

Pretty pink dresses and long dark curls
Smile for the masses - a smile for the world
Looking ‘round everywhere - limitless, the sky
And never a lovelier in her daddy’s eye
‘They grow up so fast,’ he says, ‘They grow up so strong
And pretty soon, she’s gonna see she can make it on her own’
And she knows she’s smart, and she knows she’s tough
But it don’t mean a thing to her without her daddy’s love”

Dacian climbed over his seat to Patrick’s, then wrapped his arms around me, smiling as he leaned his head against my chest. I, on the other hand, was watching all the other fathers and daughters take to the floor, and my heart hurt. I couldn’t imagine even inviting my father to my wedding, let alone sharing a special dance with him. Beside me, I could see Erica staring with the same defeated expression.

“‘Daddy’s little girl,’ she says, ‘I’m daddy’s little girl
And ain’t nothing in the world I’d rather be
‘Cause once daddy’s little girl, always daddy’s little girl
And you can’t take that kind of love away from me’

Right down the aisle, going hand-in-hand
Smile for the camera and strike up the band
It don’t hurt at all as he takes his hand from hers
‘Cause everybody knows that her daddy loved her first
‘They grow up so fast,’ he says, ‘They grow up so sweet
And pretty soon she’s gonna have everything she’ll ever need’
And she knows she’s ready, and she knows she’s wise
But it don’t mean a thing without a smile in daddy’s eyes

‘Daddy’s little girl,’ she says, ‘I’m daddy’s little girl
And ain’t nothing in the world I’d rather be
‘Cause once daddy’s little girl, always daddy’s little girl
And you can’t take that kind of love away from me
No, you’ll never take that kind of love away from me’”

As the song ended and everyone began clapping, and Henry pressed a lingering kiss to Kara’s forehead, I felt a sting in my stomach and a prickle behind my eyes. Gabe reached behind the chairs and tapped my shoulder to get my attention, saying, “Hey, great song, Alessandria; you’re a talented songwriter.”

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing a smile and putting an arm around my son.

He nodded and leaned back, studying his date, “Erica? Hey, you okay?” My friend said nothing. She just continued to stare at the families that were walking away from the dance floor, hands clenched into fists on the tabletop.

I cleared my throat and told him, “Gabe, um…Erica and I…we don’t really have great fathers, you know? Stuff like this,” I waved around aimlessly, “It’s not the easiest thing in the world.”

“Oh,” he noted with understanding, putting a hand over Erica’s and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “Ric, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, Mommy?” Dacian asked, looking up at me with wide, curious eyes, “Is there such thing as a dance for boys and mommies?”

“Sometimes, baby,” I told him with a nod, “Sometimes.”

“Good,” he said, looking forward, “’Cause I ain’t gots a daddy to dance with.”

I immediately felt a pressure behind my eyes, and I knew I couldn’t hold it back, no matter how hard I tried. “Ric,” I said quietly, “Can you keep an eye on DJ for a minute? I’ll be right back.” As soon as she nodded, I was out of my chair and across the floor, pushing open the door that led outside and taking in a few deep breaths of cool air. It did me no good, however, and soon tears were streaming down my face and I was shaking, collapsing onto one of the stone benches outside. A few minutes passed, and the door swung open, and then I was in Patrick’s strong arms and he was running his hands over my hair again and again, rocking me.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, holding me tightly as I cried, “Alessandria, what’s wrong?”

I took a few shaky breaths and tried to calm myself, then told him, “Dacian said something about…not having a father to dance with, and… I hate my parents, you know? They never did anything good for me. But they were there, and I know who they are, and they were part of my daily life for eighteen years.” I sniffled and wiped at my eyes, trying to salvage what was left of my makeup job, “But DJ, he’s never going to have that; good or bad, he’s never going to have a father.”

There was silence for a moment, then Patrick said carefully, “Well, that’s not necessarily true.”

I pulled away and looked at him, trying to figure his words out. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and biting his lip. “Alessandria, I care about Dacian just as much as I care about you. I have fun with him, I worry about him, I make plans for him…I love him. Now,” he sighed, “I know I haven’t been in your lives for very long, but--if you’d let me--I’d be happy to be there for Dacian. Like a father,” he added quietly, like a child that was asking for something he was sure he’d be refused.

I could barely breathe, and I definitely couldn’t get my thoughts straight. “Patrick, that’s incredibly sweet, but I… What I mean to say is, you and I--”

“It’s got nothing to do with you and I,” he cut me off, though not unkindly. “I love you, and I want to be with you for a long time. But even if we don’t work out, for some reason, I would always be there for him. I’m not talking about some stupid stand-in that just pretends to care; I’m talking about the real deal.” Now I really couldn’t breathe. I just sat there, staring at him, trying to slow my heart down; trying to love him just a little less, so it would stop feeling like my chest was going to explode. After a moment, Patrick took my hand and smiled at me excitedly, “Alessandria, move to California. You don’t even have to move in with me--we can get you a good apartment nearby--but just…move to California. There’s nothing for you in Colorado, now that Ilaria’s gone. But California has the label, the studio, good schools, good work, your friends, Dr. Lorne--”

“You,” I finished for him, smiling and cupping his face between my hands. “Let me think about it, okay? Dacian and I will go back with you and stay for a while, and we’ll see how it goes; ask me again in a month or so.”

“Will do,” he said with a light laugh, touching his forehead to mine. “And the other thing?”

I bit my lip and sighed through my nose, “I’ll think about that, too. But ultimately, it’s up to Dacian.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said before pressing a kiss to my lips and taking both of my hands in his. “Let’s go back in, shall we? I’m due to sing Rian and Kara’s first song soon.”

Erica

Sometime between Alessandria running out and dessert being served, Gabe’s hand found mine again and this time held on relentlessly, even as we ate. He made casual conversation, like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on, and I had to admit that it was sort of nice. It reminded me of the (rare) good days with Daniel, when we could just hold hands and talk and have the words carry no heavy meaning. Just lighthearted conversation and some physical contact.

“There goes my fella again,” Alessandria said, popping up behind me and sliding back into her seat, tugging Dacian onto her lap. She had a little less makeup on than before, which I made a note to ask about later, but otherwise looked bright and happy. She was pointing to Patrick, who was making his way back to the PA system and picking up the guitar Annette had left leaning against the piano.

I put down my fork and watched as he adjusted the mic, “He’s singing?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Rian and Kara’s first song; did I not mention that?” I shook my head and she shrugged, “I thought I did.”

Rian walked up to Patrick and said a few words in his ear, then smiled and held a hand out for Kara, who quickly took it and walked with him to the middle of the dance floor. “Everyone,” Patrick said into the microphone, “If I could have your attention, please. The bride and groom would like to invite all of you to join them on the dance floor, and celebrate their marriage by sharing with them their first dance.” He began to play a very slowed down melody of a song I knew well.

“Why can you read me like no one else?
I hide behind these words, but I’m coming out
I wish I kept them behind my tongue
I hide behind these words, but I’m coming out”

I squeezed Gabe’s hand unintentionally, and he smiled at me. “Is that your way of telling me that you want to dance?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Well then, let’s go,” he said with a wide smile, pulling me up out of my seat and toward the dance floor. Once we were there, he put one hand in mine and the other on my hip and gazed at me with amusement, “Remember what I taught you?”

“It was last night,” I said with a roll of my eyes, “I’m not a goldfish.”

He laughed and nodded, “All right, let’s go. 1, 2-3, 1, 2-3.” I fell in step with him, keeping perfect rhythm as his strong arms held me in place, leading me where I needed to go.

“All the ways you make my stomach turn
And all the long drives with my friends blur
I wish I kept them inside my mind
I hide behind these words
And think of all the places where you’ve been lost
And then found out
In between my sheets
In between the rights and the wrongs”

It was almost too quiet to hear, but with his chest so close to mine, it was impossible not to hear the vibration in it; Gabe was humming along to the song, beautifully and melodically, and it calmed me. I smiled and leaned in, resting my head on his chest and abandoning all count, instead just swaying with his body on reflex, and he didn’t seem to mind. Both of his arms soon wrapped around my waist and held me close, chin rested on my head. And I was overwhelmed with the unfamiliar feeling of comfort, and security.

“Put your hand between an aching head
And an aching world
We’ll make them so jealous
We’ll make them hate us
Aching head and an aching world
Think of all the places where you’ve been lost
And then found out”

Patrick continued to play a soft melody on the guitar for a while after the vocals were finish, and it seemed to stretch out to forever as I melted into Gabe’s arms. As the song came to a close, I looked up, and the moment seemed perfect. I could just go up on my tiptoes and press my lips against his; it would be so easy. And he’d let me, I knew it. All I had to do was gather my courage, set my jaw, and go for it.

“Erica!”

I jumped, surprised, and instinctively took two steps back and looked at Alessandria, whose face was a little pink and eyes were wide. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I, uh,” she looked between me and Gabe and bit her lip, “Oops, I’m sorry, I suck so much.” She rested her forehead in her palm and laughed to herself, shaking her head.

I waved a hand and lied, “It’s fine; what’s up?”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, looking a little nervous, a little excited. “Could you, maybe, watch Dacian for the rest of the night? Take him back to the hotel with you?”

“Sure,” I shrugged, “But, um, why?”

“I,” she started slowly, glancing up to where her boyfriend was passing things off to the hired DJ. “I just sort of feel…ready.”

“Ready?” I felt my eyes widen as the full weight of her words dawned on me, “You mean, like, ready-ready?”

She bit her lip again and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think so? Maybe? I’m at least ready to try.”

Despite my own romantic interest and opportunities for the night, I had to smile for her and help her out. “Well hell, blow out of here whenever you’re ready. I’ll keep an eye on the little dude for you; I haven’t got to hang with him much this week-end anyway.”

“Thanks, Erica; you’re the best.” She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek before walking back to her table to say a few words to her son, to which he nodded happily.

Gabe came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder, “What was that about?”

“Alessandria and Patrick are cutting out early,” I told him, sighing quietly, “I’m going to watch Dacian for the rest of the night. I, um,” I inhaled deeply and shrugged helplessly, “I understand if you just want to do your own thing for the rest of the night.”

He made a face at me like I was an idiot and said, “Ric, you know I love that kid; why would I ditch you and let you get all the face time to yourself?” Before I could respond, he clapped his hands loudly and made a quick pace over to the boy in question, kneeling down in front of him as Alessandria gathered her coat and purse and putting his hands on his shoulders. They exchanged a few words before Gabe lifted him in the air and settled him on his shoulders, walking back to me. “We’re headed to the bar,” Gabe said with a nod, “Gonna get this kid liquored up on Shirley Temples and extra cherries!”

“And you, of course, will be having--”

“Ginger ale!” Gabe finished for me proudly, taking my hand in his once more and leading me toward the bar.

Perched on his shoulders, Dacian giggled. “Whatchoo guys holding hands for? Is you friends like Mommy and Patrick are?”

Gabe looked at me from the corner of his eyes, lips pressed tight together, and laughed dryly. “Kids say the darndest things, eh?”

“Sometimes.”

Alessandria

I was almost breathless with anticipation as I caught up with Patrick, who was crossing the ballroom to get a drink from the bar. “Hey,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him, “Hold up.”

He smiled at me, then looked at my coat and purse in hand, “You going somewhere? Is Dacian okay?”

“Dacian’s fine; he’s staying with Erica tonight.” I smiled and took his hand, “What would you think about leaving early?”

“Already?” He raised his eyebrows at me, “Why? What’s up?”

I bit down on my bottom lip and grinned to myself, saying in a small voice, “I don’t know, I just thought we could have some alone time before everyone gets back to the house.”

His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline now. “Really?” His voice was quiet, tentative, and hopeful. “I mean, I don’t want to assume anything, but--”

“Assume,” I told him with what I hoped was a cajoling smile. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

He gazed at me for a moment--sizing me up, I assumed--and then said quickly, “Let me go grab the keys from Kal.” He kissed me deeply before jogging off to find the guitarist in question.

Erica

“I’m really sorry about this, Gabe,” I said in a whisper, “I didn’t think he’d crash so early.”

Gabe shifted Dacian--who was fast asleep--on his hip and fumbled to get his keycard out of his back pocket, sliding it in the slot and opening his hotel door. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered back, stepping inside, “I’m not really into the whole congratulating-every-member-of-my-friend’s-family-on-his-nuptials thing anyway.”

“Amen,” I murmured, flipping the lights and moving to clear some bags off of the couch. “Who else is staying with you?”

He shook his head at my efforts and went to the first door of the suite, nudging it open with his foot and putting the boy down on the bed inside. Once he’d slipped off Dacian’s shoes and jacket and covered him with the blanket, he came back out to the main room and told me, “Just Vicky and her boyfriend. The other guys are a few floors up. We sort of just wanted a quiet week-end, instead of partying.”

“You’ve changed so much,” I noted, sitting down on the couch and tucking my feet underneath me, making sure my dress kept me covered.

He shrugged, “Finally growing up, I guess.” He looked me over and smirked, “Want something to change into?”

“Yeah, but I can just run up to my room--”

“Nah, don’t do that,” he said, waving a hand at me, “I’d miss you too much. One sec.” He ducked back into his room before popping out with two changes of clothes, one for me and one for him. I excused myself to Vicky’s room to change into the track pants and sweater he provided me, freeing my hair from it’s tight bun but leaving my makeup in tact…just in case. God, when did I become a just-in-case kind of girl?

When I reentered the main room, tossed my dress over the back of the couch and collapsed on the cushions, Gabe looked me over and smiled. “You know, you look kind of nice in my clothes.”

“Hey, now, buddy,” I joked to cover up my heated cheeks, “Don’t go getting any wise ideas.”

“No?”

I looked at him and my heart started hammering in my chest at the intensity in his eyes. Slowly--painfully so--he reached out and put one hand on the side of my face, thumb running over my jaw. He stared at me for a few moments before he began to lean in, a centimeter at a time. Then, when he really started to get close…

The door swung open, banging against the wall in the process.

“Woops!” Vicky giggled, stumbling through the threshold with her boyfriend--Dennis--on her heels.

“Victoria,” Gabe hissed, irritated as he pulled away from me, “There is a four-year-old sleeping in my room; could you make a louder entrance?”

“Sorry, man,” Dennis apologized for her, trying to corral her into their room, “She had a few too many glasses of champagne at the reception; that’s why we’re back so early. I’m really sorry,” he said again, seeming genuinely so.

Gabe waved a hand and sighed, “It’s okay. Just try to keep her quiet, okay?” Dennis nodded and finally led her into their room, shutting the door with a gentle click behind them. My date for the evening finally turned back to me, “Ironic, isn’t it? I roomed with her because we didn’t want to get all liquored up, and she comes home was--”

I couldn’t control myself. With all of the interruptions and all the pent-up emotions and desires, I thought it was better to just go for it. One quick, sudden movement to get the initiation over with. I slid my arms over his shoulders and pressed my lips tight against his before he’d even finished the sentence, and felt an odd sense of satisfaction when he responded immediately, looping his arms around my back and kissing me with as much passion as I put out. This wasn’t like any of the kisses we’d shared before. The first was an unexpected (and mostly unwanted) surprise, and mostly just instinct and experience. The second was sweet and new, full of feelings waiting to be explored. The third was just a few hours before, and just a hard, brief peck in a parking lot. This wasn’t like any of those. This was raw, unadulterated emotion. Yes, there was lust, and sexual frustration, but it was more than just a means to an end. In fact, it wasn’t an end at all; this kiss--and everything we were both pouring into it--was the beginning of something between us.

But like I said, there was lust.

My hands moved down to grab at the collar of the t-shirt he’d changed into, arching against him, twining myself closer to him. He reciprocated this as well, pulling me in even closer, fingers trailing along my sides as he tilted his head to kiss me deeper, breath warm and quick against my skin. Then he leaned against me and I took the hint and went back until I was laying on the couch and he was holding himself above me, still kissing me, still holding me tightly against him. I could feel his muscles straining through his shirt, feel their tension under my hands as I ran them over his arms and chest and neck. It felt like I was a quarter step away from going crazy; like I was drowning and clinging desperately to anything that would keep me above water. I couldn’t even explain it, but it felt right.

“Erica, Erica,” he said, breaking away abruptly, panting against my neck, “Wow, okay, wait.”

“What?” I mumbled absently, trying to pull him back in.

He shook his head sadly, “This is going a little too fast, isn’t it?”

“What?” I repeated, this time with coherent incredulousness. I sat up, forcing him to lean back against the opposite arm of the couch, and ran a hand through my hair. “You don’t--I mean, I thought you wanted t--I mean…” I sighed, unable to form the words.

He leaned into me again, quickly and held my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m dying to just let this happen. But I like you, Erica; I really, genuinely like you, and I don’t want us to dive into anything physical before we’re on a more familiar mental level first.”

“That sounded way too intelligent,” I said with a breathless laugh. “My brain is working at a more ‘me woman, you man’ capacity right now, so could you dumb it down for me?”

He smiled and kissed me lightly, then smoothed a hand over my hair. “I think we should date.”

I sighed and pulled away from him, but took both of his hands in mine. “And how is that going to work? You live in New York and I’m…between homes right now.”

“So stay in New York until you decide where you’re going to live,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Gabe--”

“Listen,” he cut me off, “I’m not asking you to move in with me--you can stay in a damn Motel 6 for all I care--but I just want you to be there. I want to be able to spend time with you.”

I bit my lip to hide the smile that was trying to creep through, and I shoved him lightly, “You’re such a girl; when did you get all mushy?”

“I blame Dacian,” he shrugged, “He made me realize that I kinda like being a grown-up, you know? Taking care of a kid, having responsibilities, being in a stable relationship with a beautiful, intelligent, talented, stubborn woman.”

Not knowing what else to say, I just shook my head, “That damn kid.”