“Too bad,” I said with a grin. I unpaused the movie and settled back into the couch. “What are we watching again?”
“It Happened One Night,” Bridget said immediately, sounding defensive. “It’s… Gabriel said I could choose something. I know it’s old, and I’ve seen it a thousand times, but I promise it’s still good.”
“What’s it about?”
As Bridget ran through the plot, I scooted infinitesimally closer, and she relaxed out of the tiny ball she’d scrunched herself into.
“This is the best part,” she announced. “They have to share a hotel room because there are no more buses. It’s like… the origin of the ‘they’re forced to share a bed’ trope. And yes, I know there are twin beds,” she put her palm out to forestall my imagined challenge, “but that’s only because it was 1934.”
I smiled at her passion. Onscreen, Clark Gable, whom I recognized vaguely, was taking off his shirt. Bridget’s shoulder touched mine, and I tried not to tense up.
“This film was one of the last released before the Hays Code, which added a ton of rules to what you could depict on screen. That’s why it still feels so fresh, I think,” she whispered, her eyes still glued to the screen. After a moment, she must have felt my attention. “Sorry. I… really like movies.”
“Don’t apologize. I really like hearing you talk.”
We kept watching. She explained things here or there, and her commentary was funny and thoughtful. By the end of the film, I was invested. And Bridget was tucked under my arm.
As the credits rolled, Bridget moved carefully away. “Thanks. For watching with me.”
I tried not to show how disappointed I was to no longer be touching her. “Thank you for the film education.” The blanket was still around her shoulders, but the tantalizing view of her bare knee made my heart race. I imagined how soft her skin would feel under my fingertips.
“Right. Sure.” She swallowed and met my eyes again. “So… goodnight?”
I wanted to kiss her, but I also wanted that to be her decision. So I just smiled. “Goodnight.”
Her scent trailed after her as she went to her bedroom, and I couldn’t second guess it any more. It was getting more potent.
Gabriel was still awake and reading. I’d felt him in the bond, amused and pleased, and he was smiling slyly as I undressed for bed.
“You are molto carino, mi amore,” he said, when I settled next to him, propped on the headboard. “Your nervousness is so adorable.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for letting me have some time with her.”
“Of course,” he said with a brilliant smile, but I felt his brief uneasiness.
“What’s wrong?”
Gabriel sighed, and a thread of guilt flowed down the bond. “Allora… I think I am giving Bridget the wrong idea. Earlier, she… it was not a perfume, I think, but... I was touching her, and her scent grew stronger.”
A strange mix of jealousy and lust poured through me. “Touching her how?”
Gabriel’s eyes went molten. He slid his hand into the hair at the base of my head. I couldn’t stop my instinctive purr as his fingers brushed my skin. “Like this, mi amore.” His thumbcaressed my ear, and my purr became a growl. “Is it not an innocent touch?”
“Not from you,” I said darkly. “Are you sure you meant it to be innocent?”
Gabriel’s thumbnail scratched lightly against the shell of my ear. “I think so, yes.”
He had to stop touching me, or I was going to ravage him. And I couldn’t do that with Bridget sleeping in the other room.
“We should sleep,” I said, grabbing and placing a kiss on his wrist. His own cedar scent was laced with Bridget’s sweetness, and I groaned against him. “Oh god, you smell like her.”
“I will shower,” Gabriel whispered.
“No,” I growled before I could stop myself.
Though we lay quietly, I could tell Gabriel was as wide awake as I was. I was almost vibrating with pent up desire, a delayed reaction to Bridget’s earlier proximity, and her remaining scent. I knew it was affecting him, too.
“Fuck it,” I whispered and pulled him on top of me.
