Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2 (6 page)

“Since always. I just decided to mention it tonight is all.” She goes back to flipping through the magazine.

“Um, who are you and what have you done with my feminist sister? Hot guys? Bitchy girls? What the heck, Beth?”

She sighs, tosses the magazine on the floor next to the bed, and stands up. “When’s the last time you and Marc had sex, baby sister?”

“Oh my – I can’t believe – I’m just –” I sputter to a stop.

She smirks at me. “That’s what I figured. Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you give up on how you look, Lex. If you’re going to be with him, maybe a new sexy you will jumpstart things, huh? Jesus, you’re not even twenty-one yet. You should be having sex like all the time. You two act like you’re forty. Live a little. Show some skin, hang on your boyfriend at the bar, lick his neck, and grab his dick under the table. You’re going to kill each other from boredom before you hit your thirties.”

I turn and look at myself in the full-length mirror that hangs on the bathroom door. Here I am, unstyled dark hair hanging down my back, frumpy peasant blouse concealing my figure entirely, and worn jeans tangled around my ankles. Maybe she has a point.

“Okay,” I say hesitantly. “So what should I wear?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” she squeals a little too excitedly.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m putting the final touches on my makeup as Beth wanders out the front door to stand on the elevated walkway that runs along the side of the building. I take one last look in the mirror. I have on a tight black knit skirt that comes to mid-thigh, a pair of black cowboy boots with multi-colored stitching, and a silver sleeveless mock-turtleneck with glittery threads woven through it. My sister has curled the ends of my hair and put the front up in a ponytail that cascades from the top of my head down to my shoulders. I’ve added big silver hoop earrings, smoky eyeliner, black mascara, sheer lip gloss, and a stack of silver bangles on my arm. I look pretty damn good if I do say so myself.

I grab my tiny shoulder bag off the dresser and head out to the living room. The front door is partially open and I hear Beth’s voice from outside.

“So you must be the infamous Gabe. I’m Alexis’s sister, Bethany.”

Oh what the hell! How has she managed to find him in the last five minutes? Shit. I frantically grab for my keys hanging on the wall and run to the front door. There, in all her flirty glory, stands my sister, yelling down to the parking lot while Gabe and some huge guy wearing track pants and a t-shirt stare up at her, both of them grinning.

I hesitate in the doorway, afraid to let Gabe see me. But he seems to have special powers, because as his friend is saying something to my sister, I see him lean ever so slightly to one side. His eyes travel past my sister and right to me. He very slowly looks me up and down, and his lips purse briefly before he breaks out into a huge wolfish grin.

Seeing his face, Beth turns to look behind her. “Oh! There you are. I’ve met Gabe! I mean, finally. After everything I heard about him, it’s so great to see him in person.”

I gape at her like a fish struggling to breathe out of water.

Her left eyebrow lifts, challenging me to say something – anything. My eyes shoot over the railing to the parking lot where Gabe and his friend stand. His friend is saying something to him quietly and Gabe nods but keeps his gaze fixed on me.

“Well!” Beth says loudly so the guys will hear her. “Lock your door and let’s go introduce me properly!”

By the time we’ve walked down the stairs to the parking lot, I’m steaming mad. My face is hot, my stomach is jittery, and there’s a shooting pain traveling up my neck and into my head. I wonder briefly if there’s a special term for killing your sister or if
fratricide
covers it. Whatever the word, I’m going to do it. Yes, after tonight, I’ll be down to only a younger sister, because the lovely Bethany will be dead. My parents will be sad, but they’ll get over it. Just think of all the money I’ll be saving them.

When we reach the parking lot, Gabe and company stroll over to meet us. He’s wearing a pair of faded jeans that ride his slim hips and a tight black t-shirt that says
Hilo Bar and Grill
. It molds to his chest perfectly, and I can see the edges of the tats I know cover his shoulders peeking out from beneath the sleeves. I try not to remember what it felt like to have those shoulders under my hands as I straddled him naked, wet, and hot. Apparently my sister likes those shoulders too because as he approaches us, her face erupts into a giant smile and she walks straight up, throwing her arms around him.

What. The. Hell.

“Thank you, Gabe Thompson,” she says, keeping her arms around his neck as she leans back a bit to talk to him. “Thank you for saving my sister’s life. My family was inexcusably rude for not thanking you earlier, but I hope you can forgive us and know that we are
really
grateful to you.”

Did I just imagine that she put an extra emphasis on the really part? Gabe’s hands are resting on Beth’s hips, and I feel my fingers twitch to brush them off. He doesn’t need to be touching her like that. And she certainly doesn’t need to be touching him like
that
.

He gives her a charming, panty-melting smile as she finally steps back from him. “Well, Beth,” he says in a husky
I just got out of bed
voice, not even flicking a glance at me, “you’re very welcome, and I’m glad I was there to help her out.”

“So, how’d you save her life, man?” Gabe’s giant friend asks, looking between me and Beth a couple of times.

“Oh, this is my friend, Mike, from work,” Gabe says to Beth. “And Mike, this is Beth and her sister Alexis.”

Mike puts out his hand and Beth and I each shake it. I mumble something reasonably appropriate, but Beth is suddenly like a damn debutante, her manners are so ingratiating.

Mike looks at the three of us. “Story, y’all. Saving her life?” He points at me.

Gabe’s smile turns feral as he focuses all his attention on me. “You tell it, Alexis. You know it best, don’t you think?”

Beth watches as she stands next to him. Then she reaches over and loops her arm through his, looking up at him and giving him a dazzling smile.

I feel my stomach sink as he smiles back and basks in her admiration. This is so wrong. Really, really wrong. And they are all three standing there, waiting for me to answer the damn question.

How did Gabe save my life?

Gabe

Amores, dolores y dineros no pueden estar secretos.

Love, pain, and money can’t be kept secret.

A
LEXIS’S
sister is friendly. She’s also not hard on the eyes. I mean, how can I not find her attractive when she looks so much like the woman I love? But as much as I wish it were Alexis latched on my arm right now, my heart knows it’s not. However, as I look over at the babe in question, who is dressed to the nines and so fucking sexy it makes my chest ache, I notice a glint in her eye. A glint of green. I feel the rush of vindication through my veins. You don’t get jealous if you don’t care.

I throw Beth my best smile then lean down and whisper in her ear, “You and I need to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”

I see Alexis visibly pale, her lips compressed into a thin line, and she takes a deep breath before she speaks in a rush.

“So, Gabe saved my life because we were caught by insurgents in a cave for three days, and then we escaped and all’s well that ends well. Beth, c’mon. We have to go.
Now
.” Alexis reaches out for Beth’s arm, but Beth neatly avoids her sister’s grasp.

“Just chill, Lex. Gabe and I are getting to know each other.” She levels a stern look on Alexis. “And aren’t you leaving a
lot
out of that story?”

“Yeah, no offense, but that sucked,” Mike complains. “I want to hear about the guns and the danger and shit. There’s got to be more exciting stuff than sitting in a cave for three days.”

I finally take pity on Alexis, who looks like she is ready to rip her sister’s arms out of their sockets.

“Yeah, man, there was more. They trapped us in the first place by laying an IED in the road and nearly blowing up our supply truck. Then I had to kill a guy who came after us in the middle of the first night. Then I got shot when I tried to get us out in the middle of the second night.”

I pause. Alexis is breathing rapidly, and her cheeks are pink.

“Alexis had to be my nurse and bandage up my shoulder.” My voice is rough, and I can feel my body heating as I remember that night. Our first night together.

“But the third night, we walked out and my guys were waiting for us at the mouth of the canyon the insurgents had closed off. So it all worked out fine.” I stop and Alexis finally looks straight at me. I see a brief flash of something – pain? Lust? Guilt? Whereas once I was able to read her so well, now I have no idea.

“So you got shot, man? Show me! Did it hurt?” Mike is like a kid in a candy store. Jesus, guys who’ve never been in the military always think it’s so glamorous. Getting shot is no different than any other injury that hurts really fucking bad.

“Nah, it was just a scrape. No biggie,” I say, trying to pass it off.

Beth pouts and jumps up and down, bouncing her chest against my arm. I get the feeling she’s overdoing it on purpose. Maybe she likes to see her sister jealous too? “Nooo, you have to show us now! Please, Gabe. I want to see if my sister did a good job patching you up.” She bats her eyelashes at me and purses her glossy lips. “Pretty please?”

With my free hand, I scratch my head. Yeah, this is humiliating. Utterly and completely humiliating. But I can’t see any way out of it without being a jerk, so I disengage myself from the tentacles of Bethany and slowly lift up my shirtsleeve to reveal the shoulder that took the hit in Afghanistan. There is total silence for what seems like hours although I’m sure is mere seconds. I can feel my face heating up. It’s kind of like tearing open my heart and exposing it to the outside air. It feels like a stinging, hot wind is blowing on my raw organ.

“Oh!” Beth squeaks. “Um, wow.”

“Nice work, dude,” Mike says, looking at me a little more sharply than before.

Alexis stands there in total silence, her eyes glistening with what I recognize as tears. Goddammit. She cries over everything. She always has, and it’s always torn me up to see it. I’d do virtually anything to keep her from crying.

She reaches out a hand as if she’s going to touch me then pulls it back, just like she pulls her love back every time I’m near her.

“You never told me,” she whispers.

“You never let me,” I reply.