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I attempt to reclaim my hand again, pulling it out of his grasp. This time, Gabriel lets himself be jerked forward and knocks me onto the grass. He laughs as he rolls on top of me, pinning me down.
‘Gabriel!’ I cry, trying to sit back up. ‘Gabriel, this isindecent.’
‘Oh no, I have fallen,’ he says in the most monotonous French accent I’ve ever heard. ‘Oh dear, what an accident.’
I roll Gabriel’s dead weight off my body as he laughs, clearly pleased with himself. He crawls next to me, sweet-faced and unbelievably cute, looking like he just wants to be kissed senseless. God, I’d love to kiss this man senseless.
I poke Gabriel in the ribs and he squirms away from me. ‘You wanna go check out those lemurs?’
‘Definitely, yes.’ He smiles, and quite simply, it’s everything. It’s the way the sunlight streams through the changing leaves in autumn; it’s the way it feels to get into bed when you’ve just washed your sheets; it’s the way wood smells when it burns, even though you know wood fires are a fucking environmental nightmare.
This man will ruin my life when he leaves, but in this moment, he is everything.
The lemur walk-through is a delight. They scatter throughout the enclosure, and at one point, one of the small creatures cuts in front of Gabriel to snatch a juicy fig from a platter. He stumbles backwards, running into me, and we laugh.
At ten-thirty, Gabriel holds his first ever koala—whose name is George—and I take just under a million photos (no exaggeration) for his Instagram. I find Victor’s number in Gabriel’s phone and shoot one of the best pictures off with the message,Having an unbearably cute time!—Noah.
And maybe I send a few to myself, too. Just for safekeeping.
It’s lunchtime by the time we leave the zoo.
‘I’m training this afternoon. A private booking,’ Gabriel says as we step onto the train and find a seat. ‘You can come if you’d like. Dad’s making burritos afterwards, and if you want, you could stay and watch a movie.’
Renting a movie, having dinner at each other’s places—it sounds mundane, but so wonderful. ‘I’d love that.’
Gabriel pulls out his phone. ‘I’ll text and let them know.’
At the apartment, Victor’s cooked lunch: salmon bowls with white rice, vegetables and a creamy sauce that Gabriel’s not ‘allowed’ to have, but he still sneaks a taste.
‘When we are fuelling for a tournament, every macro counts,’ Bernard says, clocking my dubious look.
‘Once the tournament’s over, I’m ordering the biggest, juiciest, cheesiest burger ever,’ Gabriel replies. In the kitchen Victor pulls out four mugs from the cupboard and begins making coffee. Bernard takes the dirty plates from the table and stacks the dishwasher. Watching them work, it’s clear they’ve spent a long time living together; their bodies move in sync through their lunchtime routine.
‘Noah, do you take sugar?’ Victor asks as the kettle whistles.
‘Just one, please,’ I say. On the far wall, there’s a chart of all the players in the tournament, and where Gabriel sits in the draw. Studying the brackets, I trace his path to victory.
I turn back to Gabriel. ‘Will you face Lukas in the next match if you win this one?’
‘Unfortunately,’ he deadpans.
‘You can beat him,’ Bernard replies as he starts the dishwasher cycle. ‘You’ve done it before.’
‘Have to get through Ruiz first.’ Gabriel gives me my coffee and turns to the board. ‘Then, I’ll worry about Lukas.’
‘Is it hard playing your friend?’
Gabriel lets out a long sigh. ‘Unfortunately, yes, but it also means I know him. There are benefits and . . .’ He searches for the word. ‘Not-so-benefits.’
‘Drawbacks,’ I supply. Why is it so cute when he fumbles for a word?
‘It’s hard speaking English when you’re tired,’ he admits. ‘It is mind-draining.’
‘You’re doing better than me,’ I say, taking a sip of coffee. ‘I lost all my hearts in Duolingo yesterday trying to figure out all the ways to ask a question in French.’
He nudges my shoulder, jostling me a little. ‘That is actually very difficult.’ And then quietly he adds, ‘Thank you for doing it for me.’
His acknowledgement makes my cheeks heat. Gabriel’s gaze meets mine and something electric passes between us; desire licks up my spine. I wish, desperately, that we were alone.
