I can't get them out of my head. We've been sleeping together, you know. Literally. It hasn't been a problem so far, but sometimes I lie awake watching him, thinking this can't last.
The longer it does . . . I feel like . . . like I'm standing on a high wire, with Gabriel at one end and me at the other.
We're trying to reach each other, but one misstep, one breeze, one side-glance, and I'll fall over the edge. And keep falling and falling.
I took in a shaking breath when I finished.
Scholes leaned toward me and brushed the hair away from the side of my face.
"Don't look down then," he whispered.
Bastien had returned, catching the end of my soliloquy.
"Who's Gabriel?" he wanted to know later, once we were back at my apartment.
"Long story." Yet I found myself spilling it anyway.
