Brunch Society

2: Of Sparking Orange Juice

I am rudely awakened by a bouquet of flowers being shoved into my face. I wrench my arms free of my cozy cocoon of bedding and make contact with the appendage that is holding the flowers. I attempt to push away the arm, but that would require me rising a smidgen out of bed. Which won't happen.
I squint at the opposing form looming over me, noticing the charming smile adorning his face.
"Where the hell is my coffee? Why are there roses instead of a latte?"
"Would you rather I wake you by pouring hot coffee onto you? I can't melt your ice cold heart just yet. It will be useful later on once you drop this cheery act."
Running a hand down my numb face, I attempt to sort my thoughts before managing a conversation with the ever eloquent egotistical ass. Glancing over at my clock which reads 11:35, I realize that he is here because I didn't show up sharply at eleven. I sit up and clutch the coral sheets to my chest.
"If only your obnoxious attitude came off as easily as clothes do." Gabriel's glittering eyes give me a once over and a shiver runs down my spine. I allow my gaze to follow his.
Guess who dresses for bed like a minimalist? Me.
At first I am pinned in place by awkwardness. His suffocating look is filled with amusement and interest.
      Melting all the way under the covers, I internally deny the affect Gabriel has on me. Well, I try to. But that doesn't stop the lava pooling into my stomach from divine volcanoes of unwanted passion. As my face blushes increasingly red, he places the bouquet on my nightstand and his footsteps pad over to my closet.
     As my heart beat slows and I reconcile my confidence, mr luscious hair hums an unidentifiable song. It starts to get incredibly stuffy under all these sheets from my hot breath. But am I ready to re-enter the world?
      Slowly wiggling my way upward and out from beneath the sheets, I am met with Gabriel's muscular backside as he reaches up to select a pale pink dress from my walk-in-closet. He turns around on the spot and admires his choice as he slithers back to my bedside
       "As gorgeous as you look in that shade of coral, I would prefer it if I was the only man to see you adorned with sheets." Dark eyes tease in a way the matter-of-fact tone is unable to.
       My mouth twitches to form a retort as Gabriel drapes the  dress onto my lap. "I'll be waiting outside."
    Once the demon has left the room I can breathe properly again. Why does he bombarde me when I am newly awakened and incapable of witty comebacks? Sighing, I finally let the sheets fall and begin to dress.
     The sound of my front door soflty closing causes Gabriel to look up from his phone ane transfer his attention to me as I make my way down the front steps. When Gabriel catches my eye he simply smiles with good nature. I restrain the urge to fiddle with the hemod my knee-length dress. Gabriel, still humming, opens the passenger door of his Aston Martin. I slide in and reposition my purse. He leans in and sunshine shoots out in rays from behind him, which gives him the appearance of an adonis.
    "Buckle up, buttercup."
"Don't trip, chocolate chip." We wage a war of who can smile the brightest.
As we drive toward Le Papillon, I take notice of Gabriel's slowly fading smile.
"What's been going on with you lately?" I inquire, while looking out of my window, at the passing houses. He stops humming. The sound of faint jazz music fills my ears as I realize it has been playing the entire time.
His shirt is as crisp as always. His hair is the perfect combination of sleekly styled and I-woke-up-like-this like always. His easy grin slips into place and effortlessly as always. But something is off. He has been nicer to me lately. Usually he is the more hostile of us two.
    "You noticed?" He doesn't look away from the road.
     "It's hard not to when your number one rival isn't on top of his game."
    "Oh, well, I apologize for no longer being able to entertain you." He manages to keep his voice velveteen.
I sigh, this the closest proximity we've ever been in. Mainly due to the fact that whenever we are near the other a raging urge to strangle each other consumes us. It is rather hard to have a heart-to-heart right now with him. But I am curious.
"Seriously Gabriel, what's wrong? What drove you to blackmail us all into a 'study group'?"My foot taps along to the steady beat of the music and I resist the urge to stop my interrogation and sing along to the singer's smoky voice.
      His jaw clenches and I am unwillingly drawn back into staring at his sharp jawline. I must have a jawline fetish...
It takes him a few minutes to figure out what to say to me. As he does this we turn onto the street where the elegant black, white and yellow banner reads 'Le Papillon'. Finally, he speaks up as he parks.
       "I've run into a bit of a dilemma. I'm planning on telling you all together, what the situation is." Tall, dark, and handsome flexes his hands against the black steering wheel.
        I turn toward the unnaturally stressed figure. "Tell me now." I want to be the first to know.
          "My little sister has been kidnapped."
          "And you want our help in getting her back?" I cut myself off before asking why he couldn't just hire private investigators or something.
       He nods, still not looking at me. I unfurl my hands which I have unconsciously clenched tighter and tighter as he told the story.  Tentatively, I reach out and wrap my hands around his massive ones, uncurling them from around the wheel as I did my own.
      Gabriel slowly turns toward me and his hands wrap around mine, consuming them. "You will help?"
       "Of course." Relief washes over him as the tension from his shoulders is realxed slightly.
        He never spares me a glance as he collects himself and unwinds our hands. "Let us go in."
       Gabriel slides out of the car and as he comes around to my side I collect myself. Somehow I manage to smother the sadness in my heart and the foolishness of missing his hands before he opens my door and leads us into the restaurant.
     We approach the table where the other three are waiting. The first thing I notice is the lack of mimosas. Instead, orange San Pellegrinos are spread out along with the coffee everyone drinking.  Preston lifts his cup in greeting. I sit myself down in the chair Gabriel pulled out and hold out my hand, silently asking for coffee.
       "You're adorable and all, but I'm not sharing my liquid happiness."
        With a pout, I wave over a waitress and order the first thing that pops to mind. Okay second. The first is Gabriel's head on a platter.
       Glancing around the table I note that everyone is only on their second cup of coffee. Also known as, the drink of the gods. Liquid ambrosia. Really, caffeine is the only thing fueling AP kids. Being smart doesn't get you through the sheer amount of homework we are assigned.
       Gabriel shares his little story with everyone as I settle into my waffles. He is met with irritated understanding, then they all get back to the AP statistics homework.
"Sad story bud, but quite frankly I'm more worried about getting through this hell."