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9
Gabriel
The last rays of the sun stream through the glass roof of the old arcade, scattering rainbows onto the delicate mosaic flooring.
Noah opens the door to a small but chic bakery and the heavenly scent of vanilla and cinnamon hits me. Trays of doughnuts line the vintage glass cabinets: cinnamon, classic glaze, jam-filled, custard-filled, chocolate glaze. As we browse the selection, the flavours get more eccentric: ‘Summer Fields’—a classic glaze with musk filling; ‘Piña Colada’ with rum and coconut filling; and the ‘Mike Wazowski’: a green-iced doughnut with a large fondant eye where the hole should be.
‘I’m thinking the “Coyote Ugly”; the whiskey-glazed caramel,’ Noah says. ‘Get two and split them?’
What calories Papa doesn’t know about won’t hurt him. Besides, it’s not like I won’t burn them off tomorrow. ‘I’ll have the Nutella and pretzel.’ I reach behind to grab my wallet. ‘I buy this time.’
After I purchase the doughnuts, Noah leads me through a secret passage beneath Flinders Street Station that opens onto the delta of the Yarra River. We sit on the edge of the boardwalk, our legs dangling above the water but not quite touching the surface. Lights glitter on the river; the sun is now almost gone and the sky is a marble of navy blues and baby pinks. Noah grabs his doughnut from the bag and, without ceremony, breaks it in half. Custard oozes down his fingers as he hands me half.
‘Mind the fingers,’ he says.
I take the half from him. ‘What do you mean?’
Noah grins as he sucks custard from his fingertips. I don’t know why but something in me goes hot at the sight of his lips wrapping around his finger, I—
—I need to get a grip.
‘It’s a way of apologising for using my fingers,’ he explains. ‘’Cause it’s not very polite.’
‘Oh, it’s okay.’ Strange Australian sayings.
As I bite into the doughnut, I’m immediately hit with the strong whiskey-flavoured custard. Then comes the sweetness, the sugar, the cinnamon. As we eat, Noah points out a few landmarks: the casino and its flame towers; an island named Ponyfish; the lights of the MCG.
‘Melbourne Cricket Ground,’ Noah explains helpfully. ‘I’m not big on sport, but it’s a big deal here.’
I grab the Nutella doughnut and break it in half the same way Noah did. As we both bite into it, he groans in appreciation.
‘Your pick wins,’ he murmurs through a mouthful of doughnut. A gentle breeze tousles his hair, and he pushes a stray lock behind his ear. Noah has a very lovely profile; long, dark lashes, a thin angular nose with an upturned tip, full lips, chiselled chin.
‘You wanna do something tomorrow, too?’ Noah asks, and before I can answer, he has brought up a list of tourist experiences on his phone. ‘We could do the Skydeck, or a tour of the MCG? Looks like they just built a new sports museum if you like sports.’
‘I don’t mind tennis,’ I admit. ‘But you don’t like sports.’
He chuckles, shaking his head. ‘This isn’t my tour of Melbourne, Gabriel.’
For a moment, I wonder if Noah’s playing with me. If he knows exactly who I am, and this is all a ruse.
I hate to be the one to scream, ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ but seriously, if Angelos knew who I was, and deemed me worthy to go on the wall next to Chris Hemsworth, then what game is Noah playing?
Suddenly, I’m frustrated. Frustrated that he might be playing this long con and I can’t tell if he is or not, frustrated that I’m suddenly the kind of guy who thinks,Don’t you know who Iam?, but most of all, I’m frustrated that I think the possibility of a guy liking me for me isn’t an option.
Tennis.
Tournaments.
Glory.
Everything’s getting confusing, fast. The only option I have is to extract myself from this entire situation. I get up. ‘Noah, I have to go.’
Noah stumbles to his feet, clearly taken aback by my emotional one-eighty, which makes two of us. ‘Oh, okay. So I’ll text you about the MCG tour?’
‘I’ll message you,’ I promise, even though I know I won’t, and because that thought feels so completely arsehole-ish, I add, ‘I had a nice time.’
Immediately, I don’t know why I said it likethatbecause this wasn’t a date. There was no way this was a date, and Noah’s not gay and I’m not falling for a straight guy, and—
