His Mafia Queen

Again the Magic

Oh, god, what's happening? I flatten my back against the wall, wishing I could evaporate into the brick.

I don't know what to say or do. I've never been so nervous before. Every part of my body is alert—my skin tingling with anticipation, my heart beating wildly, breath catching in my throat.

He stops about a foot in front of me and jams his hands in his pockets.

The air in this alley is charged with electricity and need. It feels as though all the oxygen has been sucked out of the city as we stand there silently, staring into each other's eyes. His piercing, dark gaze bores into me like a laser beam, and I can feel myself melting.

His dark hair is slicked back from his face, and his eyes are deep pools of mystery. He has an air of confidence about him that borders on arrogance, but also something else. Something more dangerous and thrilling.

It isn't longing on his face. It's the thrill of pursuit. And I am the prey.

I don't say anything, not because I don't have anything to express, but I can't find the words.

But neither can he.

He stands there looking down at me like he's trying to read my thoughts. As if sensing my angst, Gabriel reaches out a hand and gently touches my cheek with his fingertips before cupping it in his palm.

The warmth of his touch sends shivers through my body. I shudder in a breath while every nerve ending in my body comes alive. I tilt my head, welcoming his familiar touch.

He leans in closer, his eyes still locked with mine. My heart speeds up so fast that I have a brief, fleeting thought that it might burst right here in this alley.

He brushes his thumb across my cheekbone and I feel the intensity of this moment deep within me. His touch is almost too much to bear.

My breath hitches as he grows nearer, our faces now inches apart. His lips are so close I can feel their warmth, but he doesn't kiss me. He just stays there, looking into my eyes and taking in every detail of my face.

Our earlier arguments fall away, and I am once again under his spell. I allow my eyes to flutter shut, waiting for one of his inevitable, sublime kisses.

It doesn't come.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Gabriel wraps his arms around my body and pulls me close.

I cling to him tightly, burying my face in the space between his neck and collarbone.

His scent, the spicy, delicious aroma that is uniquely his, washes over me. I almost start weeping when I smell it, and for the first time I realize why scent is so intertwined with memory. His essence tonight will be burned in my brain forever.

We stand there for what feels like forever. No words spoken, no kisses shared. Before, had we been alone in an alley, we would've groped each other. By now, we'd be devouring each other, touching parts that shouldn't be touched in public, going all the way out of sheer sexual desperation.

It isn't that those feelings have evaporated for me. I want him just as much now as I did when we were together. But something is different tonight. Is this a goodbye hug? Or something else? I can't figure it out, but I also don't want to disentangle myself to face him and ask.

We hug for several long minutes, each one more glorious than the previous one. This is all I want. To be in his arms without problems, without crime, without the horrors of the outside world. In his arms, there's a quiet magic. One that captivates me and leaves me craving more.

Maybe it's not magic. Maybe it's more like a drug. One whose effects are so sublime and dangerous that it will eventually kill me.

Gabriel rakes in a breath and pulls back. While keeping me in his arms, he stares at me with a serious expression. I feel my heart swell two sizes. He still has feelings for me. I know it.

"Riley," he finally says. His voice is hoarse, as if he's been smoking, or yelling. For the first time, I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted.

Suddenly, the sound of the back door to the alley echoes and bounces off the brick buildings. It creaks slowly, an ominous noise that interrupts our perfect moment.

Without moving my head, I glance to the side. Oh, shit. It's Beckett.

"Riley?" he says, confused. Then it obviously registers: I'm in another man's arms. I'm not inside with him, eating pizza like I'm supposed to.

Gabriel and I step away from each other reluctantly as Beckett stares at us. A look of disapproval is on his face.

I open my mouth but still can't say anything. It's like I've been rendered mute.

Beckett shakes his head and returns inside, the back door banging shut.

I look over at Gabriel, wanting him to say something — anything — that would make this moment okay. I wait for a signature Gabriel quip or comment, something arrogant and snarky about how I'm his and fuck that guy, and we're going home together no.

He'll call me Blondie and grab my hand, pulling me to the car. He'll playfully swat at my ass as I climb in and then once it's just us inside the vehicle, he'll lean over and plant a big kiss on my mouth.

But none of that comes out of Gabriel's mouth. He doesn't take my hand. There are no playful flirtations. All he does is stare at me in silence before finally turning away.

He doesn't say goodbye or make any promises about seeing each other again. He does nothing. Says nothing.

He walks away into the night, leaving me standing there alone in the alleyway feeling hollow and empty and like a big fucking loser.