Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (14 page)

Roseline glances to the far wall, snorting as she watches Conner shove his tongue down the cheerleader’s throat. “Well, he bounced back nicely,” she replies sourly.

“Yeah. He always does,” Gabriel says through gritted teeth. His gaze falls back on her. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

His concern touches her more than she wants it to. “Yeah, just a little shaken up.”

“Want to get out of here?”

Roseline nods, following Gabriel’s lead faithfully. His fingers entwine with hers as he leads her through the crowd. It is not until they start up the stairs that she begins to question his motives. “Where are we going?”

Gabriel turns at the sound of her concern. His smile is warm, trusting. “Don’t worry. I just want to show you something.”

Roseline follows him to the end of the hall. The third door on the left is closed, shrill giggling escapes from under the door. Gabriel groans. “I’m gonna have to sanitize everything.”

Roseline smirks, pausing as he reaches overhead. He grasps a thin cord and a pull down ladder appears. “After you,” Gabriel offers, waiting for her to go up first.

Her blush comes fast and furious as she glances down at the dress that up until this point has seemed only mildly inappropriate, but with its painfully short hem, there is no way she is going to go first. “I can’t,” she says, burning with embarrassment.

Gabriel’s eyes lower to her dress, widening as he comes to the same realization she has. He clears his throat, fighting to tear his eyes away. “Uh yeah, right. I’ll just go up then.”

Roseline glances around to make sure the shadows are pervert free before she races up the ladder after him. One inside, Gabriel swiftly closes the hatch.

Thirteen

The sight before her is unlike anything Roseline would have guessed. Gone are the spider webs, scurrying mice, and three-inch-thick dust covering teetering boxes of abandoned junk. Instead, the room is warmly lit by the moonlight streaming in through the skylights above. A lamp perched on top of an overflowing bookcase casts a warm glow on the couch nearby.

A thick beige shag rug fills the center of the room, leaving exposed hardwood floor around the outside. The ceiling and walls have even been completely finished, painted a warm vanilla color. A table overlooks the window above the garage. Adorning the top is a full bouquet of orange roses.

Her gaze is drawn away from the beautiful flowers to the easel standing next to the window, the perfect spot for letting in southern exposure. “You’re an artist?” she whispers, twirling around, noticing for the first time that the walls are lined with charcoal sketches.

Gabriel remains silent as Roseline examines each piece, carefully noting every skillful stroke. City streets filled with people, a mother cradling her child, a little boy wrestling with his dog, and a toddler girl with bouncy curls gleefully riding a merry-go-round. “These are amazing, Gabriel,” she whispers.

Turning, she notices him watching her. The delicate skin of his cheeks reddens as he smiles. “I spent all my spare time last summer finishing off this space so I could turn it into my own private art studio…but you’re the first person to see it.”

“Really? You’re parents haven’t even seen it?” Roseline gasps, shocked by his admission.

Gabriel shrugs, sinking down onto the black leather couch at the other end of the small room. “If it’s not about football or anything to do with Notre Dame, they don’t really want to know. They have plans and I’m not allowed to ruin them.”

Roseline slips out of her heels, treading through the lusciously soft fibers of the carpet as she sinks down next to him. The despair in his voice feels all too familiar. “I’m so sorry.”

Gabriel’s shrug does not fool her. She can see how he has put his heart and soul into every detail of the room and to be unable to share it with anyone…

“I love the roses,” Roseline points at the beautiful arrangement. Another surprising detail.

“They’re my favorite,” they say at the exact same time. Roseline smiles shyly, lowering her lashes as she feels a blush spreading along her neck.

Her eyes light on an open sketchbook between them. Gabriel scrambles to close the book, but Roseline gets there first. Snatching the book away, she carefully runs her hand across the edge of the page. “Is this me?” she whispers, amazed at the beauty staring back at her.

“It’s just a doodle,” he mutters, reaching for the book. “It’s not very good.”

Wide, beautiful doe eyes look demurely down at the folded hands in the girl’s lap. A delicate floral skirt lies across her shapely calves. The low V-neck shirt fits snugly to her curvy frame. Roseline blushes. “Wasn’t this what I was wearing the first time we met?”

Gabriel nods uncomfortably. “I uh…I was trying to remember you, just in case you slipped away again.”

“It’s very flattering,” she whispers, amused by the varying shades of red clinging to Gabriel’s ears.

“It’s how I see you,” he mutters.

Roseline allows him to pull the book away. He clutches it to his chest as if she might snatch it back. “I’m not sure I really look like that, but thank you. It is beautiful.”

His eyes dart up to meet hers but struggle to hold long. Roseline is drawn in by his vulnerability. It is so different from the image he puts forth at school. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

She can hear the leather shift as he sinks deeper into the couch, his jeans rustling as he crosses his legs. Somehow, in that innocent movement, he closes part of the gap separating them. Fingering a loose thread on his pant leg, Gabriel speaks. “I knew you’d understand.”

Roseline tilts her head to the side. “How? You don’t even know me.”

“True,” Gabriel agrees, bobbing his head. “But I feel…” he trails off, wincing. “Never mind.”

“What?” Roseline presses, annoyed by how desperately she wants to hear his next words.

Gabriel sighs, finally meeting her gaze. “I feel like there’s something between us. Like a past that I have no memory of.”

Roseline sucks in a breath. Should she admit the same? The dreams that feel like memories, the longing she has begun to feel for him, and the way just thinking of him sets her body on fire? Yes, there is something there, but why? It doesn’t make sense.

Running his hands through his hair, Gabriel blows out a breath. “Sorry. I know how lame that probably sounded.”

Stretching out her hand, Roseline gently lays it on top of his. “No. Not lame at all.”

Gabriel stares down at their hands. “I think you’ve bewitched me, Rose.”

She feels the tremble in his fingers as his gaze lifts to search the faint rosy tint of her cheeks and darts to everything below that. She can see the question in his eyes, as if he verbally asking how she was coerced into wearing such a bold dress.

Electricity spikes each time they touch. Skin to skin. Spark to spark. She can’t explain what it is about him that makes the air around them feel charged.

“I’ve known many a witch, Gabriel,” Roseline says, releasing his hand to shift away. She perches on the edge of the couch, yanking on the short hem of her dress, wishing it would magically grow another couple of inches. “But none of them have ever had much luck getting the right guy to fall for them.”

His fingers tap idly on the couch cushion. “That’s a shame. I quite like the idea.” Roseline blushes, turning away from him.

“Have I embarrassed you?” he asks softly.

She shakes her head as she fights with her emotions. Being near Gabriel is intoxicating. She breathes in deep, enjoying his blood’s aroma. It calls to her, winding silky tendrils of desire through her belly. A deep ache begins in her toes, worming its way up through every nerve in her body.

Why does his blood call to her? Why does she feel like her fate rests in his hands? He is a mortal, for goodness’ sakes. It doesn’t matter what she feels or how her body betrays her. Gabriel Marston is off limits.

“Please don’t,” she whispers, fighting to keep the tremor from her voice. “We both know you have a girlfriend, and I’m…I’m not good for you.”

She dips her head, allowing her bronze strands to shield her face from him. His fingers grip his thigh, as if he wants to reach out to touch her, but instead he thrusts to his feet. Roseline breathes a silent prayer of thanks. She needs space and an eternity of time to think. Even then, she doubts she would have time to get a grasp of her feelings for this mortal boy.

Gabriel paces. The boards underfoot creak in protest of his heavy tread. His sigh captures her attention. She watches as his shoulders sag under the invisible weight of obligation. “You’re right. I am with Claire.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” she murmurs. She knows she shouldn’t care, that she should flee from this room as fast as humanly possible, but she can’t bring herself to move.

It’s not as if they can ever be together. This longing is pure torture but reason fails her as Gabriel drops to his knees before her.

“I’m miserable, Rose.” Despair pinches his handsome face. “I don’t want to be with her. I never have. I only want one thing,” he pauses, rising up to meet her eye to eye. “I want a chance to get to know you.”

Her lower lip trembles at the implications that request could have. Hope? Love? Perhaps, but she cannot overlook the reality of what such a choice would mean. Relations of the heart with a human are strictly forbidden and intensely enforced. The immortal world must remain secret.

She has been taught since birth into immortality that humans are meant for only two things: bloodletting and sex. Even then, it is frowned upon for a married immortal to seek out such physical relationships.

Which is exactly why Roseline has sought them out every chance she could get over the years. To prove to Vladimir that he does not own her mind, even though he lays claim to her body.

Could she enter into this form of relationship with Gabriel and manage to walk away unscathed? No. Getting close to him is sure to burn her.

Gabriel bows his head. “I know all of this feels so sudden but in my gut I know that it’s right. We are right.” He pauses, blanching slightly. “I have tried to forget you. To move on and pretend that you don’t exist but I can’t. You are in my every waking thought.”

Her groan is silent but it feels like it resounds through the heavens. Why is he doing this to her? The urge to yank him into her arms is nearly unbearable as she turns away. With tears in her eyes, Roseline speaks the words that her heart forcibly denies. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I don’t want to be with you.”

A stunning smile slowly spreads across Gabriel’s face. “Liar.”

“Well, that is rude,” she bristles, shifting her body away from him.

Gabriel laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. Besides, I know when a girl is crying. Trust me, I’ve had plenty of experience with that.”

“Why, because you’ve broken so many hearts in your time?” she snaps, swiping away her tears, annoyed with herself.

“Touché. I’m sure you have a few sob stories you could share yourself.”

She sucks in a breath, shocked at how easily she has gone from distressed to irate. “Are you always this obnoxious?”

He grins. “Sometimes. The truth hurts.”

With a feather-light touch, Gabriel reaches out and brushes his fingers over her hand. Roseline bites down on her lip to still her cry. Her eyes are glued to his fingers as they slide around to the underside of her wrist and begin drawing delicate circles along her sensitive skin.

Never has anyone’s touch affected her so fiercely. She can feel the animalistic growl rising in her throat as her pores ooze her heady scent. His touch is addicting.

“I get it,” he whispers, his voice taking on a hoarse tone. “You don’t want to hurt me or yourself but I am right and you know it. There is definitely something going on between us.”

Although his fingers are calloused from countless hours on the football field, his touch is like the finest silk against her skin. The warmth radiating from him feels like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. She would give anything to snuggle up to him and let the world pass her by. It’s a warmth that is comforting and enticing at the same time.

It is getting harder to resist him. The longer she lingers with him, the more intense the attraction becomes. Roseline’s mouth begins to water, savoring Gabriel’s scent.

Her eyes fly open wide as she rears back. She snatches her hand away as the scent of rain and cut grass washes over her.
It’s him. The boy I smelled on my first day,
she thinks.

It is more than that though. The same scent is tied to some of the most realistic dreams and tantalizing fantasies she has ever experienced. How is this possible? It can’t be him. It just can’t be!

“What’s wrong?” Gabriel asks, leaning close. His brow furrows with concern.

Unable to stop herself, Roseline closes the gap between them. “Shh,” she breathes as she nuzzles against his neck, embracing the warmth of his throat. His pulse jumps madly against her cheek.

Gabriel rolls his neck to the side as she presses her lips against his artery. The sensitive skin beneath her lip quivers. Her heart beats harmonious with his. His breathing adjusts to match hers. A contented sigh escapes his lips.

Reality crashes in as Roseline throws herself to the other end of the couch. She commands her lungs to stop moving as she fights to remain in control.

“Why’d you stop?” Gabriel groans, his words slurring.

Roseline glances hesitantly at him. Her body begins to tremble as she looks deeply into his eyes, terrified by the faint blue glow radiating out from them. It is not possible. Humans can’t do that.

What the heck is going on?
She silently panics.

Maybe it is the moonlight streaming in from overhead, or a trick of light from the lamp glowing on the bookcase, or maybe her mind has finally snapped, trying to convince herself that Gabriel is something more than a mortal, but try as she might to convince herself of these possibilities, the truth continues to gnaw at her.