Josh

JOSH

We spend the next day helping Jax and Erin with the wedding prep, which means Gabriel and I are driving around town with a list of errands that mostly involves picking things up and driving them back to Gabriel’s parents’ house where they store them in the empty barn.

It’s a small wedding with only the family attending, but even so, there’s plenty to do before it. Luckily, Erin and Jackson are both incredibly well organized and also incredibly calm, so it all goes smoothly. Everybody gets their own tasks, and by early evening, we’ve all reported back to headquarters.

Gabriel and I were the last to get back, and by the time we got to the living room where everybody had gathered, they were all chatting excitedly.

“Finally,” Erin said. “We were about to send out a search party.”

“What’s happening?” Gabriel asked as he stopped behind me.

“We’re going out.” Jax bounced on the balls of his feet. “Sly’s has a two for one Christmas special.”

“Okay. Give us a minute to change, I guess,” I said.

Thirty minutes later, we had all piled into the family’s minivan.

And now we’re in a bar.

I’m standing in the corner by the pool tables with Gabriel, Erin, and Leo, as we all watch Jax at the bar. He’s talking about something while gesticulating wildly.

“Jax is clearly excited,” Gabriel tells Erin.

“It’s almost certainly wedding talk. He wants Mark to play the guitar when I walk down the aisle.”

She smiles, her gaze going to her fiancé for a quick second before they return to Gabriel.

“Jax is, like, goofy, but he’s also a traditional guy. He wants to get married. I couldn’t care less. It’s a piece of paper. It’s… whatever. But he wants it, so we compromised. We’ll have a small wedding with no extra bells and whistles with only the people nearest and dearest to us.” She purses her lips thoughtfully.

“That’s sweet,” I say.

Jax barrels into the group, followed by Ari and Devon, all carrying shots. Jax starts to hand them out.

“To Erin and Jax,” Leo announces, and we all raise our glasses and down our shots.

The evening goes from there. At one point more people pour into the bar. I get hugged by people the real Gabriel probably knows, but I have no idea who they are. But I also have a few rounds of shots and cocktails in me by then, so I don’t really consider it an issue. Plus, by now the music has been turned up, so it’s not like anybody can hear me properly anyway.

I’ll also blame the alcohol for the way my eyes keep searching out Gabriel. Despite his determination to stay glued to my side, he’s now standing at the bar, talking to Jax, Ari, and Leo.

My insides are a huge mess, and my brain is trying to make sense of everything, but it’s not going that well, so I end up with some incestuous mess that goes something like this:

Oh, there’s my twin. Looks like me but is not me.

And inside that twin is Gabriel.

The Gabriel I was checking out a little while ago in front of the mirror. And who told me about jerking off, which led to some very vivid images jumping into my brain.

So…

If that turns me on, am I turned-on because of Gabriel?

Or is this some extra weird shit where I basically turn myself on?

It shouldn’t even matter. It’s not like I should even be turned-on by Gabriel as Gabriel. He doesn’t like me.

My brain is starting to hurt from trying to puzzle this out or even make any sense of it, so I grab Erin’s hand because I desperately need a distraction.

“Let’s dance,” I say.

“Since when do you dance?” she asks with a laugh, then she shakes her head. “You know what? Forget I said that. Lead the way.”

The bar is packed now, and the Garcías seem to know everybody here. Erin and I are soon joined by Ari and Devon and then a whole lot of other people who are complete strangers to me, but I don’t really care. Whenever somebody asks me something, I either pretend not to hear them or just nod and yell out “Okay” or “Cool” or something in that ballpark.

Somebody turns the music up even louder. I can feel it pumping through my bloodstream until I’m pretty sure my blood vessels must be vibrating like guitar strings.

I’m vaguely aware that I haven’t seen Gabriel in some time by now, so I lean closer to Erin, who’s now wrapped in Jax’s arms.

“Hey, where’s Gab—?” I shout over the music.

“At the bar,” Jax shouts back, cranes his neck, and looks around before he rolls his eyes. “I think some idiot is trying to hit on him.”

I whirl around immediately.

There he is. Or, well, there I am, if we want to get really technical about it. And there actually is a guy standing next to him. Some dude with dark hair is standing way too close to Gabriel.

What the fuck?

I mean, this isn’t… I’m not outraged for me here. It’s for Gabriel. He likes his personal space, and this dude is clearly not getting that.

“Hey.”

I whirl around at Erin’s voice. She’s looking at me with a small frown on her face.

“You’re not really worried about some random guy, are you?”

“Pfft! No,” I say immediately, but my eyes still make their way to Gabriel again. If that guy leans any closer he might as well go ahead and sit in Gabriel’s lap.

Erin’s fingers wrap around my wrist, and she starts pulling me away from the dance floor. I follow like I’m a kindergartener being led by his teacher.

We only stop once we’re in the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. It’s quieter here. Not by much, but enough that we don’t have to yell to be heard. People stumble past us, some of them greeting Erin, some greeting us both.

Erin doesn’t pay much attention to them, though.

“What’s up?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

She rolls her eyes. “Would cheat on you? I mean, even if it turns out he is a cheater, is he dumb enough to do it in plain sight of half of your family?”

“What? No!” I protest. “ would never. He’s been cheated on before. He’d never do it to somebody else.”

Although… That’s about me. I’m defending me. I would never cheat. Gabriel is not me.

Then again, I’m kind of forced to scoff at that. Gabriel cheating? Not in a million years. The guy’s all about honor and doing the right thing. Actually about honor and doing the right thing, not like those smarmy assholes who preach one thing only to turn around and do the exact opposite. Gabriel is a good person. And wow, I never thought I’d get to the point where I’d willingly admitted that.

“Then why do you look like you’ve eaten something sour?” Erin sends me a knowing look.

Oh, fuck that. I’m not . I’m Gabriel. Whatever I say right now, it’ll be on him to figure out later on once we’ve magically solved this body switching issue.

“I don’t have to like seeing somebody hit on him, do I?”

Erin grins at that.

“Aww. You’re finally admitting out loud that you’re in loooove.”

That is just preposterous. Me? In love? With Gabriel? That’s just not?—

Okay, what does she mean with you’re finally admitting out loud?

“I told you you two should just fuck it out,” Erin continues.

My brain, which was buzzing with thoughts a moment ago, comes to a screeching halt.

I’m sorry, what?

“Don’t look so startled. It’s good. You finally got your head out of your ass and you admitted you like him. I mean, we all knew way before you said it, but I guess better late than never, huh?”

I just stare at her, mouth open, eyes wide, heart beating so wildly it’s starting to drown out the noise and the music of the bar.

“I—We—What?” I blurt after a few false starts.

Erin sends me another eye roll. “So we’ve established he’s not a cheater, but if it bothers you this much, just go out there and tell the dude to fuck off. You’ve complained, like, a million times that is too nice, so I bet he’s sitting there, trying to be polite and let that guy down easy. Well, nobody’s ever accused you of being too cordial, so go out there and get rid of him. He’s hitting on your man. Do something about it.”

My head is spinning. It’s too much information all at once and some of it makes me feel like I’m in the middle of an earthquake.

I turn around, still in that information overload daze.

“Gonna go get a drink,” I shout over my shoulder in the general direction of Erin, and then I push through the crowd of people waiting in the bathroom line. I don’t really stop to consider what I’m doing or even come up with a plan. I just move.

That guy might as well be giving Gabriel a lap dance at this point.

And seriously, what the hell? He’s just okay with this? Allowing this? Hello! We’re in a relationship here!

Well, no. Not that. Not officially. Not even for real.

Maybe he wants to be hit on?

But Erin said?—

I honestly feel like I don’t know which way is up right now.

And yet, my feet keep moving.

Whatever is happening with Gabriel and me, one thing’s for sure. That asshole has gotta go.

By the time I make my way to them, I’m in full-on indignant rage.

Only then Gabriel turns his head, and instead of looking startled or guilty or anything like that, he sends me a wide, loopy smile that takes the wind right out of my sails.

He gets up and swiftly slides his arm around me. He’s swaying like a tree in a storm. I’m tipsy, but Gabriel is clearly a step beyond that. It explains the happy smile, at least.

“Oh, hey! This is !” Gabriel says. “Have you met ? This is my .”

Oh boy.

I can’t really stop the grin that appears on my lips. “Gabriel,” I say. “I’m Gabriel, remember? You’re .”

He blinks at me, eyes wide, clearly more than a bit confused before he laughs.

“Oh yeah!” He turns to the guy. “Get this. I’m inside .”

The guy’s gaze flicks toward me. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

I open my mouth to reply, but Gabriel is already on it. “,” he says. “He’s my .”

I give a sigh that is somewhat resigned but mostly amused. This guy doesn’t seem to know Gabriel, so I guess that’s fine. I hold out my hand.

“,” I say.

He frowns. “You just said—” He stops and shakes his head, clearly deciding he just heard me wrong. “Casey,” he says.

I squeeze his hand just a bit tighter than strictly necessary.

Gabriel drapes his other arm over my chest.

“I think he was hitting on me,” he says happily before he glances at Casey. “Were you hitting on me?”

Casey looks comically startled by the question.

“I guess?”

“See, this lack of confidence is really working against you,” Gabriel says before he turns his attention to me. “People don’t usually hit on me. I think they think I look angry? But you’re, like, friendly, so they’re all over you. This is kind of fun.”

Casey’s eyes move from Gabriel, who’s still draped all over me, to me. “Who are you, again?”

“The boyfriend.”

Casey’s eyes move between the two of us. “So this is like an open thing between you?”

“No,” I say tonelessly and hold his gaze. I’ve seen Gabriel look intimidating as shit, so let’s see if I can pull it off too.

Casey takes a step back and holds up his hands. “Man, he didn’t say anything.”

Gabriel snorts. “I did too. I told you my boyfriend was here.” He glances up at me. “People hit on you. This dude is, like, the fifth one!” Then his brows knit into a scowl. “It’s highly annoying, actually.” He aims his scowl at Casey. “He’s taken.”

“I wasn’t hitting on your boyfriend,” Casey says indignantly.

“No, you were hitting on mine. Does that somehow make it better?” I ask.

“You were hitting on ,” Gabriel says. “It’s me inside him, sure, but you didn’t know that. You were hitting on me because you think I’m . You like the way he looks, so you figured you’d throw your hat in the ring, like all those other idiots.” He looks at me again, and his tone has that familiar, Gabriel-like exhaustion in it. “So many guys.”

At this point, the confused look on Casey’s face is just funny. I’ve given up trying to stop Gabriel from blabbering. He’s drunk, so whatever he says, nobody’s going to believe him anyway. Not that they would if he was saying any of it sober, but that’s not the point right now.

“We should get you home and to bed,” I say.

Gabriel hums and seems to consider it for a second.

“I like sleeping with you,” he says, then.

Oh my God, what the fuck is happening?

“Good to know.”

Gabriel jerks his thumb toward Casey. “I’m done with him. Even his pickup line was shit.” He throws Casey another quick look. “You should work on it. Can we go?”

“Yeah, we can go.”

We grab our coats and stumble out of the bar, into the cold winter night. It’s started snowing again. I look up at the soft flakes falling down around us and breathe in.

When I look at Gabriel, I find him swaying slightly, eyeing me with a curious expression. “What’s your deal with snow?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I just like it. Always have.”

“Fair enough.” He gives me an unconcerned shrug back.

I look around at the empty parking lot and listen to the noise coming from inside the bar before I turn to Gabriel.

“Now what?”

“You said you would take me home,” he says.

My gaze lands on the minivan we parked on the street in front of the bar earlier. “Don’t think any of us are driving tonight. I’m pretty sure I saw Ari preparing to go dance on the bar a moment ago,” I say.

Gabriel chuckles. “There’s this movie she likes. Ugly Wolves or something? They dance on the bar in it, so whenever we go out and she gets drunk, she tries to do that.”

“Good for her,” I say. “Do you want to get back inside?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Nah, I’m done. You really do get hit on a lot. It’s annoying.”

He takes a look to his left and then to his right before he starts to walk. I’m not sure where he’s going, but I follow him anyway.

“I don’t get hit on that much,” I say once I catch up to him.

“Please. I was trying to order a drink and I was interrupted three times while I waited for the bartender.”

“Interrupted isn’t exactly same as hit on.”

“Kind of is. It’s not like any of them had to come and stand next to you. There was room. And some of the lines were pathetic. Do you ever fall for any of those? Because I feel like I’d lose some respect for you if you did.”

“I don’t know. Depends on the line, I guess.”

He turns his head toward me and takes me in. “What’s the best one you’ve ever been hit with?”

I consider the question for a little while before I grin. “I was at this frat party in freshman year. Some guy stumbled into me while I was waiting in the bathroom line, and he said, ‘I’m too drunk to be smooth right now, but give me your number, and I’ll hit on you tomorrow.’”

“ That worked on you?” Gabriel asks.

“I was about twelve shots of tequila past sober, and he was very hot.”

He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head.

“And I do have a habit of falling for all kinds of bad lines,” I muse. “Because even a bad line requires some effort, so I’m flattered against my will.”

“Somebody’s easy.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t. What do you do? Set a list of conditions and hoops they have to jump through to prove their commitment to the challenge?”

“It just feels like there should be something more than a dick pic involved. Sue me.”

Drunk Gabriel is kind of mellow, and definitely more open than sober Gabriel. We turn a corner and keep walking. I don’t know where, and I don’t ask either.

“What kind of people do you usually date?” I ask.

He throws me a look over his shoulder. “I don’t know? The normal kind?”

I roll my eyes. “I mean, what’s your type?”

He stops, waits until I’m in front of him, and frowns. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen you with anybody, so I was just wondering, I guess.”

“Ha,” he says, which isn’t an answer. Then he starts to walk again.

“I get dumped a lot,” he says.

I’m honestly stumped for a moment by the fact that he’s willing to admit something like this to me .

“Why?” I ask.

“And by ‘why’ you mean what’s wrong with me?”

“I wouldn’t have put it like that.”

He doesn’t seem offended. Instead, he frowns, like he’s deep in thought.

“I don’t know?” he eventually says. “I mean, mostly I think things are working okay, but then I get dumped, so I guess they really aren’t, and I just don’t realize.”

“Working okay,” I echo. “That’s a pretty low bar, to be honest.”

He throws me a look. “Okay is good.”

“Okay is okay. Good is good. I figured you could spot the difference without me pointing it out.”

“That’s just nitpicking.”

“Don’t even try that. I’ve heard lengthy lectures from you about the importance of using the correct vocabulary to get the meaning across in the best, most precise manner. I mean, come on. My relationship is okay? It sounds lame.”

“I’m okay with okay.”

“Ask for more for yourself.”

“Sage words of advice from a guy who, by his own admission, falls for the stupidest pickup lines.”

“One of them might be the one,” I say.

“There’s no such thing as ‘the one.’”

I point at his face. “I knew you’d say that.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. The concept is insane. This idea that there’s one perfect person for you out there? Nonsensical and stupid.”

“Nobody would ever, in a million years, confuse you for a romantic, would they?”

“Because the only way to be romantic is by spewing bullshit?” he says.

“No, you’re right. Cold, hard facts for the win. ‘Oh, baby. You’re one of several thousands in this city who suits my needs.’ Be still my heart.”

He stops, whirls around, and stalks back toward me. There’s a look in his eyes, something burning and intense and almost angry.

Then he’s right in front of me, the same fiery look in his eyes. The toes of his boots are against mine, knees, thighs, hips.

I suck in a startled breath, eyes widening.

When he starts to speak, his voice is low and deep and intense.

“I love your face,” he says. “I love your eyes and the tip of your nose and the way you bite down on your lower lip when you try to stop yourself from laughing. I love it even more when it happens because of something I say in a situation where you know you can’t laugh. I love the mischievous look you get in your eyes when you’re about to take somebody down a peg. I love the way you care . About everything and everyone. And the way you always, always insist on doing the right thing, even if it’s inconvenient.”

I think I’ve stopped breathing altogether.

Gabriel’s eyes are still locked with mine.

And then he takes a step back.

“Which is better?” he asks. “That or some bullshit about you being the one?”

“You might have a point,” I manage to say.

He turns around and starts to walk again.

Just like that.

It takes forever before I feel like I can breathe again.