Page 60 of Yours, For Now

"My mom!" I exclaimed and gulped. "My mom. She insists we all have emergency kits in our cars. First aid, blankets, hazard triangles, the whole thing. If not for us, it could help us help other people, she said. So we all have one."

Lina didn't respond right away. "That's sensible, and not at all a complicated story."

"Well, it's also because there are sections of road near the lake house without phone reception, and it was the emergency kit or a satellite phone just in case."

She laughed. "Now, that would be a rich person's kind of overkill."

"Or the kind of precaution that a socially-oriented person might think of. She's a social worker, you know?"

"I didn't know, but that helps me understand how she raised a guy like you, somehow. You're done, Gabriel. I think you might get a few bruises, by the way." She got up and passed me the kit; I locked the clasp while she put the used-up towelette and gloves in the biohazard bag. She made a knot at the top to close it and gave me a stern look. "Shower when you get home to make sure the whole system is clean before you change clothes." She waved a hand in circles in front of me, like my body was the system. "And make sure to add new gloves to the first aid bag."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you always this good?"

Her playful smile made me chuckle, because I hadn't been that good, the past few minutes, when I thought of her sucking my cock. And in bed, I wasn't all good, either.

"Can't say that I am," I admitted. "Not always."

She squinted at me, as if guessing what accounted for bad in my books. Worse of all, I couldn't even promise myself to behave, when potential energy continued to increase around my gut.

A few days after my greatest piece of acting to date— when Gabe had gotten hurt and I'd pretended to be mostly unaffected— I lounged on my fake boyfriend's sofa. We'd both spent our usual long hours at each of our offices, followed by a couple more hours working together at his place. Now that my laptop lay closed on the coffee table, I rested my head on the back of the couch and stared at the textured white ceiling.

I interlocked my fingers on my stomach; the soft clicking of Gabe's typing mesmerized my brain into a lull. Music played softly in the background, and my eyes unfocused. In my growing relaxation, it seemed easier to think of the other night when I'd helped him take care of his eyebrow cut.

The knee-jerk reaction I experienced seeing Gabe get hurt surprised me, just like the intense drive to take care of him. I'd let myself help him, but I didn't kiss his forehead like I'd wanted to, or run my fingers through his hair after I'd discarded the gloves. At best, I'd shown him friendship, which was something I could live with. More than that and it was too vulnerable. Too soft of a spot.

Aside from what it said about my growing… interest in Gabe, I didn't want to get used to taking care of him. That seemed like a direct gateway to becoming the kind of woman my family expected of me, and giving Gabe the wrong impression of who I was as a person. I pushed my comfort levels a lot already by asking him for this huge favor and being a fake girlfriend. The risk of confusing fiction with reality was too high, and I needed to keep my limits in sight.

Gabe's phone rang. "Mom? Hi, yeah. Mmh."

I closed my eyes as Gabe chatted with his mom. His voice wasn't particularly deep nor high, and it soothed me.

"Right." He chuckled, the sound throaty. "Oh, no. You could have come. Just text me ahead of time."

He let out another laugh, this once also low and breathy.

I shook my head and it lolled toward him; I opened my eyes for a second, catching the way he smiled and winked at me. I closed my eyes again and let out a small snort.

"She's good. Falling asleep on my couch."

"I'm not," I mumbled.

"Wait— what?"

While I had been close to dozing off as he talked to his mom, the way he exclaimed those words had me opening my eyes to track his face.

His eyebrow still sported purples and yellows from the injury, but he didn't wear butterfly stickies anymore.

"No, I didn't know." Gabe arched an eyebrow at me. "I guess Edgardo had Dad's number from before, right? Are you going to go to this barbeque?"

I closed my eyes again, this time for a different reason, and groaned. From the sound of it, my family had been up to some shenanigans.

"Mmh. Give me a sec. I'll ask her." He tapped on his phone. "It's on mute. Do you mind if my parents and Vi go to a barbeque your family invited them to? Apparently it's to celebrate that the two businesses are seeking opportunities together. My dad thinks that they'll have to invite your family for the day to the lake house, when we're there. You know, to be polite, in return for their invitation."

I sighed. "I told them about the weekend at your family's cabin. I think I gave them the inspiration."

"We have to say yes, don't we?"