Chapter 27

“Will you get a load of this place?”

Seb raved on about this restaurant located high above the city in the Sydney Tower. He went on and on about the food being a culinary experience, and what better way to experience the amazing food than with revolving views of Sydney’s skyline.

Thank fuck his rambling took the heat off the tension at the table.

Lana is sitting beside him, and on her left, Ace is wedged in a small chair. The little tyke is busy on her phone, watching some video which keeps him quiet.

Gabriella is beside me, quiet as a mouse. The corner of my eye gazes at her arms resting on the table. Her skin looks soft, just like I remember it. I can smell her perfume lingering in the air. It is intoxicating and makes it impossible to concentrate.

And the dress she wore—fuck me.

It’s black, strapless, and pushes her tits up so there’s nothing else you could possibly focus on.

I’ve smashed one bourbon down, the only drink I have allowed myself in the last eleven months. It went down smoothly, instantly relaxing me to a point that Seb doesn’t irritate me anymore with his culinarytalk.

“So, this is nice.” Lana bares her teeth with a wide smile. “I think the last time we were together like this was when…”

Seb shrugs his shoulders, oblivious to the tension. “The night Olly got pissed ‘cause Gabbo was dancing with that dude at the bar.”

“Sebastian… enough with the nicknames.” Gabriella cringes. “I gave you Gabbie, although you know how much I despise it.”

I snicker behind my fork, shoving the expensive seafood into my mouth. The food is good here, surprisingly.

“What’s so funny?” Gabriella asks, placing her fork and knife down. “This I’m-Aussie-so-I’ll-abbreviate-your-name is just downright annoying.”

I’m quick to remind her of her newfound heritage. “But you’re half Australian now, are you not? You need to welcome the traditions with open arms.”

Seb nods in agreement, a sinister smile playing on his lips. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. We need to initiate you. Let’s see… perhaps we should order you the kangaroo.”

Gabriella’s lips curl, her nose wrinkling as she shakes her head. “Kangaroo? You mean people eat kangaroo?”

“C’mon, Sebastian...” Lana exhales. “No one eats kangaroo. They’re cute and carry their baby joeys in their pouch.”

“Australians certainly do. It’s a culinary experience,” Seb informs her.

I bow my head, hiding the smirk plastered on my face.

“How about a shoey,” Seb exclaims, goading a reaction from Gabriella.

“A shoey?”

“You pour a can of beer into a shoe and drink from it.”

Seb is on a roll, the twinkle in his eye gesturing he’s enjoying riling the girls up. The bastard will probably get into a fight tonight with Lana then end up screwing her. Fighting is their foreplay.

“Right.” Lana places her drink down. “Now you’re just making things up.”

I quickly interject, “Preferably someone else’s shoe.”

Gabriella flinches beside me while shaking her head and muttering something beneath her breath which I’m unable to decipher.

“Okay, so you’re not quite the daredevil,” I state matter-of-factly. “How about we just buy you a pair of stubbies and thongs?”

Seb bursts out into a fit of laughter while Lana sits beside him with a confused expression.

Gabriella immediately reaches out for her glass, downing the wine in one go. “I don’t know what a stubby is, but I... um… I have thongs.”

“Au contraire, Gabs,” I sneer, cocking my head to the side. “While I have no doubt you wear American thongs, Australian thongs are on your feet.”

“And stubbies are short shorts,” Seb adds.

“Okay, the two of you can stop now,” Lana warns, letting out a huff of annoyance. “Australian thongs are flip-flops. Why they call them thongs is beyond me.”

“Oh… flip-flops,” Gabriella roars. “Well, then, sign me up. I don’t know about the stubbies, but I’ll give it a try.”

In this fleeting moment, Gabriella looks happy. Her shoulders relax as she eagerly eats her grilled chicken. It could be influenced by the wine, but nevertheless, she’s just as beautiful as I remember her. Maybe even more so.

Lana switches topics and tells us about all the things they did during their trip here and her desire to return. Seb admits they have spent some time house hunting, nothing too big, but something they can stay in with the purpose of jetting back and forth when time permits.

“What about Bubbles?” I ask with a chuckle.

“He’ll have to stay with Lizzie,” Lana says while Seb shakes his head with an annoyed expression. “Like a bunny vacay.”

“The bugger will be spoiled by Lizzie.”

“It’s fine… listen, it’s late, and we need to pack for tomorrow.” Lana gathers Ace’s belongings as Seba offers to pay the bill which I downright refuse. We argue some more until the pretty waitress finally accepts the credit card out of my hand.

“Thanks for dinner, Olly,” Lana and Seb say in unison. “So, I guess we’ll leave you two?”

Gabriella shuffles awkwardly.

“Thank you for dinner, Oliver. I have somewhere I need to be, so I guess I’ll see you another time.”

That’s it?

After everything we’ve been through, I guess I’ll see you another time? And where the fuck is she going? It’s nine o’clock. Shouldn’t she be packing like Lana and Seb?

My pent-up anger distracts me from her leaving the table without a hug or even a kiss on the cheek.

Seb instantly notices my not-so-relaxed expression. “Let it go, mate.”

I can’t fucking let this go.

We say our goodbyes and promise to catch up when they’re back in Australia later in the year.

It only takes me fifteen minutes to walk to my apartment. Inside the confinement of my own space, I pace the polished tiled floors in short bursts, clenching my jaw with crazy thoughts derailing my rational thinking ability.

I stand on the balcony, staring out over Sydney Harbour for almost an hour. Somewhere in this city she is roaming around. Her plans may have involved her father, but if they did, why didn’t she just say that? Why did she have to go and put thoughts in my head?

Perhaps I’m overreacting.

Deep fucking breaths, Olly.

My phone vibrates inside my pocket. I pull it out, and an unknown number texted me.

Unknown

You know what? I don’t need you Oliver. I have Byron. He is way less stuck up than your arrogant ass.

Gabriella.The anger ripped through me like a wild storm on the brink of a cyclone. My knuckles turn white from clenching my fists way too hard, combined with the grinding of my teeth unstoppable as I try to suppress the rage to no avail. I need to find her and now.

Me

Where are you?

Gabriella

What do you care? Me coming out here was a waste of time.

I call the number. No answer.

I call Seb who doesn’t pick up.

Fucking hell!I’ve mentally snapped, desperation fueling my unwanted jealousy. How the fuck am I back here?

Then I call Lana.

“Olly?” Her voice sounds breathless. For fucks sake, they were probably fucking. “What’s wrong?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Gabriella,” I grit.

“Oh… um… some bar, I think. Tang… Tink…”

“Tank?”

“Yeah!”

I hang up without a goodbye. Still dressed in the clothes I wore to dinner, I grab my wallet and run straight to the bar. Tank Stream Bar is only a short walk from my apartment. It’s hidden in an alley away from the main streets through the cobblestones. It’s also known as a meat market.

The Aussie men will eat her up in there.

This Byron has it coming to him.

Thankfully, an old mate, Manuel, is working the door. He knows me from my clubbing days, letting me in even though I cut the small talk to a bare minimum.

Inside, it’s crowded but typical of a Saturday night. The crowd is of mixed ages with couples together, some in groups, a bunch of girls giggling at the bar with their extremely short dresses and over-the-top heels. The single guys are easy to spot—they hover near the hot women.

Music plays loudly, drowning out the sea of voices from the tight crowd.

I spot her immediately. Gabriella leans on the bar, her copper curls lying over one shoulder of her black dress. There’s a man beside her, he looks familiar, but I can’t figure out from where. He’s definitely not the older man she was with the other night in the hotel lobby.

She motions for the bartender, a young bloke, who serves her in a flash. As she leans in whispering in his ear, his eyes drop momentarily to her low-cut neckline.

Pulling back with a sway in her stance, I know well enough she’s drunk.

What the fuck is this woman thinking?

The man beside her latches onto her arm, pulling her onto the small area where others are dancing. His hand wraps carelessly around her waist.

Yeah, I’ve fucking seen enough.

I burst through the crowd, swerving in and out without a single apology. This is a déjà-fucking-vu moment. The first night I met Gabriella, I was doing the exact same thing.

“Get off her, mate,” I seethe.

Gabriella’s mouth slackens, her hands dropping to her sides as she distances herself from this fucker. “God, you’re such a stalker. How did you know I was here?”

“Never mind. Let’s go.” I latch onto her arm, ignoring her only slight struggle.

“No, Oliver. We are not doing this again.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. The second you texted me, you left me with no choice.”

“I’m not your girlfriend. I’m your nothing because technically we never dated,” she slurs with a satisfied smirk.

There are so many things I can say to her right now, but all I want to do is get her out of this place. I could have sworn her arm relaxed within my tight grip, or perhaps it’s her nonverbal stare which tells me otherwise.

“Gabriella,” the fucker calls. “You can’t leave me here?”

The guy looks pissed. Serves him fucking right. Who does he think he is touching my woman.

“Sorry, Byron.”

Outside, in the cool night air, the pale face haunts me. With possibly only seconds to spare, I push her down the alley.

“Ow,” she yells, almost stumbling to the ground. “Why the hell did you push me?”

“You’re gonna hurl.”

“I’m not going to hurl.” She straightens her posture, letting out a drawn-out breath. “It’s just spinning.”

After giving her a moment to breathe in fresh air, I grab her hand again, dragging her to the main street. The walk is not far, but somehow, I need to get her to my apartment.

Walking in the Quay with an intoxicated woman is now officially my least favorite thing to do. The amount of times we stop is ridiculous. Gabriella has the need to stop and stare at everything, have almost three near-vomiting incidents, and still continues to wave hello to everyone who walks past and calls them mate.

She tried to get me to go on a ferry, threw American coins into the buskers hat, and then she insisted we go to McDonald’s for fries.

By the time we reach my building, I breathe a sigh of fucking relief.

Inside my apartment, I lay her on the sofa, placing two painkillers and a glass of water beside her. Forcing her to drink it, she does so but mumbles something about being ungrateful, then accidentally spills water on her dress.

For fuck’s sake.

I grab a spare tee in my closet, demanding she change into it to be more comfortable. She argues, of course, until I lift her dress above her head, leaving Gabriella in her lace bra and panties.

Don’t fucking look.

I try my best to ignore the way her tits swell in her black lace bra or the way her panties are sheer against her skin. Quickly, I place the tee on her, controlling my own desires and more so worried about her.

She instantly falls asleep. I sit on the chair beside her, silently watching her sleep. Every so often, she blinks her eyes, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like wings. I’m mesmerized by her beauty, her flawless skin, and the colorful pink of her lips. I ache to run my fingers along her bottom lip, press my mouth against hers, and taste her sweet tongue against my own.

But I know the second I touch her—all walls will come crumbling down again.

I didn’t sleep a wink, watching her until the sun begins to rise. Her face twitches, and she begins to move, opening her eyes at a slow pace and shifting her glance to where I sit, still watching her.

“Did you… why am I half naked?”

“Relax, you’re wearing my T-shirt, and it’s because you spilled water on your dress.

She stands, only to spin in a circle before falling onto the sofa. Her face pales, and the moans leaving her lips can only describe the agony she’s in.

“Drink this.”

“No.”

“Stop being stubborn.”

“Sebastian’s drink is?—”

“Awful but does the trick,” I remind her.

Raising the glass to her lips, she drinks the whole glass, almost dry retching as the liquid disappears. Moments later, her color comes back.

“What… what happened last night?” she asks faintly.

“Do you really want me to tell you?”

“Argh… no. Spare me the humility.” She closes her eyes, only to open them wide, panicked. “Wait, what time is it? My flight!”

“Relax,” I tell her. “You’ve got hours. It’s five in the morning.”

“Five?” She drops her head to the pillow, closing her eyes again. “I feel so…” She doesn’t end her sentence, lying perfectly still. I suspect she’s fallen asleep, and I watch her tiny breaths increasing slowly. But moments later, she opens her eyes again and stares blankly at the ceiling.

My lips press together in a slight grimace. There’s so much history between us, so much damage that feels irreparable.

Struggling to find the right words, I sit in silence until I can no longer wait.

“Tell me what happened… after you left my hotel that night,” I ask in a calm voice.

She shuffles, leaning on her side. Letting out a sigh, she pulls the blanket to her chest and clutches onto it. “I told my father I wanted out. He threatened me, called me a disgrace, and warned me I’d have nothing and you would pay the price. So, I agreed to marry Nicholas. I was terrified of having nothing and I didn’t want him destroying you.”

“You married him?”

“I left him at the altar… I can’t explain it. Seeing him, then Lana and Sebastian, I knew I couldn’t live the lie any longer. I was miserable.”

My muscles become rigid beneath my dress shirt, the revelation a complete shock. “Then what happened?”

“True to Father’s word, I was shunned. Got on a plane and stayed with Lana and Sebastian. He froze my accounts and disconnected my phone, all within hours of me walking away.”

“So, you live in Manhattan Beach?”

“Yes, in your old room.” She smiles softly. “I’m working at a law firm, helping out with admin stuff, and at nights, I work some shifts at a bar near the beach. Just keeping myself busy and trying to save enough to move out.”

It’s so much information to take in. She had finally done it, learned how to stand on her own two feet. I’m fucking proud of her, but judging by the way she’s distanced herself from me on the sofa, our friendship is far from repaired.

“Listen, I should go, right?” She tugs on the hem of the T-shirt. “I feel so seedy. Can I use your bathroom?”

I motion for her to follow me as she grabs her dress, pulling the tee down to cover her bare legs as she walks.

Opening the door to the bathroom, I point to the spare towels and toiletries.

“Wow!” She whistles, scanning the room. “Nice bathroom.”

“Enjoy,” I say before closing the door behind me.

This is going to kill me.

Go get a coffee or make breakfast. Don’t just stand here and imagine what’s happening on the other side.

“Oliver,” Gabriella calls. “I don’t know how to work your fancy shower.”

I let out annoyed huff, rolling my eyes because it’s not that hard.

“You press the button, swivel left, then push.”

“What?”

“Let me come in.”

“You can’t come in,” she blurts out.

“Stop being a baby. Put on a towel.”

I hear her cursing me until the door unlocks.

Standing behind the door, my charcoal-colored towel is wrapped around her body. It takes every fiber of my being not to make a comment or even imagine what that towel would look like on the floor with her body stark naked in front of me. My boxers become increasingly tight with the shaft of my dick refusing to settle down. I’d be lying if I said she hasn’t invaded my dreams and fucked me senselessly. The mornings when I would wake up from such a dream, I would train until I couldn’t breathe.

Leaning into the shower, my hand reacts out to start it, the water falling instantly.

“How do you take it?”

“Take what?” she asks, removing herself from behind the door.

“Your shower? Soft, hard…”

“Soft... hard? I don’t know.” Gabriella shrugs, drawing in her brows. “What kind of question is that?”

“A very valid one. I, for one, take it hard.”

She bursts out laughing, her hand moving toward her mouth until the towel slips, and she pulls it up in a panic. “Okay, nice piece of information. This shower is massive… you could fit a whole soccer team in here.”

“I guess. But wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Yeah, for you. I wouldn’t say no to your team. Bow chicka wow wow.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Sebastian’s drink helped?”

“Sadly, yes. The guy is always right.”

My eyes glaze over hers, something passing between us. The ache is too much for me to stand here and resist her like she’s nothing to me.“So, I should go…”

“Yes, you should,” she breathes, her gaze still fixated on mine.

I hesitate at the door. Turning around, I want to take her, all of her again, but I know my heart won’t be able to cope with the loss again. Gabriella has a power over me no other woman has even come close to. She’s a magnetic force, and right now, I am fighting all odds, trying to walk away.

“Olly?”

“Yes, Gabs?”

“Stay,” she whispers.

“Stay?”

Gabriella unravels her towel until it falls on the floor. She climbs into the shower, her beautiful naked body completely bare in front of me. My lips part at the sweet sight, eye contact firm on her perfect tits.

“Fuck,”I groan.

The water cascades in droplets down her skin, slipping past her hard nipples and dripping off, teasing me as they stand erect. I lick my lips, imagining my teeth grazing against them as she begs in agony for me to take her.

Leaning against the door, I unzip my pants and place my hand on my shaft. Every fucking stroke feels like heaven, an ache on the verge of combusting.

Her hand glides past her tits, settling between her legs. The desperation is fueled by desire, so she doesn’t hesitate, sliding her fingers against her clit as a long-winded moan escapes her lips.

The steam inside the room begins to rise, my body hot beneath my clothes. Watching her against the shower wall, rubbing her pussy with a sweet delight drives me to a maddening finish until I can’t cope any longer, exploding all over my hands in a pleasurable climax.

Closing my eyes, all I see is fucking stars as my breathing remains ragged.Her finish is hard and fast with a string of moans until the high pitch levels out to just heavy breathing.

This moment had been what we both needed. I want to bare my soul to her and tell her the air around me is nothing without her in my life.

But we both remain silent.

So many words, yet not enough can ever be said.

I close the door behind me and retreat to my bedroom to clean myself up and gain some clarity.

Rubbing my hands through my hair, I walk into the lounge room where she’s gathering her things.

Looking downward, she stops. “I need to go, Oliver.” Her voice sounds strained. “I can’t be just friends with you. I’m selfish, spoiled, I know, but I want it all. And you… you need to focus on you.”

“Gabriella,” I murmur, torn at the sight of her leaving. Again.

Her gaze meets mine, staring back at me with a conflicted expression. I know that no matter what I say, Gabriella will walk away.

With a wavering smile, she walks toward me and stands on her tiptoes to reach the side of my cheek with her lips. “Goodbye, Oliver. It’s time for you to shine again.”

She’s right. It is my time to shine again. I’ve worked myself to the grave to be the best I can be to fulfill my needs. Soccer will always be my life.

I have to say goodbye.

The love I have for her will never fade away, no matter the harsh words or the failings of the moment. Gabriella has imprinted her soul on my own. We’re two people destined to be together yet torn apart by the force of our own foolish actions.

I know she’s deeply sorry for her actions. I just can’t see past my arrogant ways to accept my own faults.

And so, I let her go.

My choice.

My decision.

My way of fighting against what my heart wants.