Page 97 of The Wrong Groom

I don’t answer, because I don’t know if I have an answer. All I know is that my stomach feels fluttery, my chest is so full it seems to strain my ribs, and that I never want to leave this perfect little cocoon we’ve created.

As scared as I am of the feeling, of the words I’ve been wrestling with for days, I don’t know how to deny it anymore.

I’m falling for him. And I don’t think I can hide it much longer.

Chapter 31

Gabriel

I sit at my desk, the market research report open on my screen, but my mind keeps drifting. The graphs, projections, and data should be enough to hold my attention, but all I can think about is Alexis.

I tab over to FlashUp on my second monitor. The latest clip of Alexis is already playing, her familiar voice coming through the speakers as she introduces the Fashion For All workshop.

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I watch her move through her space with confidence. Alexis has proven herself to have a surprising amount of poise on camera. Even when she’s being filmed, she speaks with a natural ease. She’s found her rhythm, and it’s clear that she’s fully in her element here. No stuttering. No nerves.

Her hands move animatedly as she explains the various features of the workshop. She approaches a dozen rolls of fabric mounted to the wall, carefully organized by color and texture.

“All of our materials are chosen with the goal of reducing our impact on the environment,” she says eagerly. “We can create something beautiful without destroying the world as we do it.”

Nice, I think to myself. I wonder if she came up with that line on her own, or if someone behind the camera told her to say it. Most likely, it’s the former. Alexis isn’t really one for delivering lines. When she speaks this easily, it’s usually her own words, with her own passion driving them.

She radiates that passion, and people are responding to it on the platform. The comments section is already flooded with praise—people complimenting not just her work but the way she speaks about it. They can feel her sincerity, her energy. It’s infectious.

As Alexis pulls out a roll of emerald green fabric and begins talking about the material’s properties, my phone buzzes on the table. I glance at the screen. It’s a text from her. I mute the video and settle back in my chair to read it.

ALEXIS: Hey! Just wanted to check in and see how your day is going. *smiley face emoji*

ME: All good here. Just watching your latest video, actually. You’re killing it.

ALEXIS: Oh, nice! Do people seem to like it?

ME: They love it. You’re a natural.

She replies with a string of emojis—a grinning face, a pair of hands, and a couple of hearts. Emojis have never been my strong suit, but even I can figure out what the spinning hearts mean.

ME: A natural in more ways than one.

ALEXIS: Oh? What other ways?

ME: You’re naturally talented at sucking this cock…

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, I’m worried I’ve been too forward. Then the speech bubble reappears on Alexis’s side of the screen.

ALEXIS: It was easy… because something else was very hard.

ME: Fuck. Your lips were so soft.

ME: I’m still thinking about how warm and wet your mouth felt. I thought I was going to fucking die.

ALEXIS: Careful, you’re getting me wet just thinking about your hand in my hair.

ME: What would you do if I was rock hard in front of you right now?

ALEXIS: I’m at the workshop, so that might get a little awkward for the crew.

ME: Fuck it. It’s a fantasy. They can watch if they want.

ALEXIS: You have a dirty mind, Mr. Thorne.