*Sabrina*
Gabriel slides into the chair across from me, his eyes darker in the dim light, and I hate that I notice every detail: the way his shirt hugs the line of his biceps, the way his jaw tightens when he focuses, and the quiet confidence that clings to him like the Caribbean heat. He never slouches or fidgets. He always moves like he owns the room, like every decision he makes is one step ahead of everyone else.
I take a deep breath. “Thank you for helping me. Again,” I murmur, my fingers still wrapped around my half-empty glass. “Though I could’ve handled it.”
“I have no doubt you could’ve,” he says, not quite smiling. “But I figured I’d spare the man some bruises.”
I laugh. “I appreciate that too. I wouldn’t want to ruin my new dress.”
“Precisely.” He smiles. “Especially that o
