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With her body close to mine, her chest heaves against my own. I can’t help but allow my eyes to wander until she grabs my face with both hands, directing it back to hers.
“Eyes up here, mister. And fine, I was exaggerating.” Her tone softens, pouty lips telling me she’s sorry. “Seriously, put me down before I?—”
“Before you what?”
“Scream. And then everyone’s going to think you’re some sort of kidnapper. You’ll be arrested. Sent to jail. And you will be questioning why every time you bend down to grab a bar of soap, your ass is so damn sore.”
I laugh at her analogy. “Some mouth on you, Gabs. Prince Charming hear you talk like that?”
Her body relaxes in my hold.
“No,” she drags, trying to hide her smile. She drops her legs to the ground as I steady her waist.
“Okay, you done with the girly whine. I promise, one more mile.”
“Fine.”
We take the last mile slow, a painful jog as I like to call it. We make it down to the water, grabbing a smoothie along the way at Sally’s before sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling, watching the sunrise.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Her eyes sparkle as she talks—hazel with speckles of gold reflecting from the light. “I’ve always wanted to live by the ocean.”
It is beautiful here.
Different to back home, yet equally as mesmerizing as we both stare into the blue sea. Being beside her feels different than anything I’ve felt before. It’s almost effortless.
“Where is back home?”
“Colorado.”
“Nice. Never been.”
“Really?” She seems surprised. “It’s beautiful. I mean, it’s not like here, and there are no views of the ocean, but Aspen is gorgeous in the winter.”
“Sounds like you miss it.”
She sighs, her shoulders falling as her eyes wander across the sea in front of us. “I miss the place, not the lifestyle. My family is… they’re in politics and very wealthy. With that comes certain expectations.”
Gabriella has dropped hints here and there, though never confiding the complete truth. She always appears troubled, aside from moments like a few minutes ago.
“So, I’m trying to piece the puzzle again. You’re from Colorado. Your family is in politics and very wealthy. You’re ‘on a break.’” Raising my hands, I air quote which seems to irritate her. “And Prince Charming is okay with all this?”
“Nicholas,” she says, correcting me. “Agreed. You wouldn’t understand… the pressure and all.”
I let out a long-winded whistle. “If anyone understands, it’s me. I may not be from a family of politicians, but I had every die-hard soccer fanatic and media outlet keep their eyes on me. I got paid each time I scored. Ridiculous amounts of money were thrown at me providing I performed. If that’s not pressure, then I don’t know what is.”
“And then, what happened?”
I close my eyes. “I don’t like talking about it.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… pried.”
“You finished your drink? Maybe we can take it slow on the way back? Wouldn’t want to have you die of a heart attack on the way.”
She laughs, patting my shoulder. “Sounds good. I wouldn’t be opposed to piggy-backing on that steep hill near home.”
“Be careful what you wish for. I was in several piggy-back races as a child. I may have even won a local race.”
“What was the prize?”
