Angela leaned back and stretched, seemingly a bit tired from not being able to fall asleep right away last night after her little one on one with Gael in the living room. They talked about random stuff after that and turned in after midnight. He didn't go up to the bedroom with her, though, so she wasn't sure what time he slept. When she woke up, he wasn't in the room either—not that she expected him to be there.
"You're tired?" he asked when he saw her yawn.
"A little."
"That date must've been boring."
"Tell me about it. Forty-five minutes into lunch, and he was only talking about himself. The guy was basically lecturing me about football and how privileged he was that he got this and that. The only time he really seemed interested was when I took off my coat." She rolled her eyes at the reminder.
He cocked a brow, glancing at her briefly before turning back to the road. "You took off your coat? I remember telling you not to."
She remembered that too. But she wouldn't want to drown in her own sweat. In a more gentle tone, she answered, "It was getting stuffy and uncomfortable."
Gael was quiet for a minute before he shared, "I used to play once."
Angela snapped her head in his direction, surprised by his sudden admittance. "You were into sports? You played football?"
"Well…not American football. Football soccer."
"Oh…" She couldn't help but stare at him. She was never a sports fan, but her mind was now filled with Gael in a field, dribbling a ball with his feet while wearing a soccer jersey that's wet with his sweat—the fabric sticking to his ripped abs. His thick thighs flexed every time he moved.
She must have been silent for a while because he glanced at her from the driver's seat, arching his brow as he asked, "What?"
Angela turned away and subtly brushed her fingers on the side of her mouth, worried that she was drooling. 'What the hell, Anj? Were you just fantasizing about him?' she cursed herself.
"You okay?" he probed when she didn't respond.
She cleared her throat and wished that she didn't look weird just now. "Yeah. I was just...nothing. That's interesting. I didn't know you played. Are you good at it?"
A hint of a smile curled on his lips. He looked like he was reminiscing his past a little. "I was scouted in my senior year in high school by one of Italy's teams."
Her jaw dropped. "What happened?"
"I enjoy playing, but it was never really for me. I couldn't see myself playing it my whole life. So I turned it down."
"Which team?" she asked even though she had no idea of the teams and the game.
"A.C. Milan," Gael responded in a low voice, sounding sheepish.
Angela quickly googled the name of the team on her phone. "Oh, my god. I don't know much about soccer—well, I don't know anything about it other than players dribble with their feet across a vast field, but damn...if this team scouted you, you must have been terrific."
He shrugged. "I guess I was okay."
"You're being humble. What did your family say?"
"Dad...wasn't against me joining the team. He actually gave me his blessing, but—I don't know. I guess I just didn't think I wanted it enough."
Gael sounded nonchalant with his answer, and she couldn't tell what was in his mind at the moment. He didn't choose a professional football career, and now he ended up being tied in their family business. Had he always thought he'd end up this way?
"Did you regret it?" Angela wondered.
She caught his eyes when he glanced at her briefly, and then he turned his gaze back on the road. She waited for him to answer, but he appeared to be contemplating. Before he could respond, her phone rang. Looking down at the screen, she hesitated to answer when she saw the caller.
...
"Aren't you going to answer that?" Gael wondered, noticing that Angela was staring at her phone instead of answering the call.
She bit her bottom lip, looking reluctant in telling him who the caller was. Clearing her throat, she replied in a soft voice, "It's...Vincent."
Rock. That damn rock again. Last night, he called her too while she was in the bathroom. 'Why does he keep popping up every single time?' He'd best be called a mushroom than a rock.
The car came to a stop at a red light. Despite himself, Gael told her, "Answer it."
Angela nodded. Soon, the call was connected. "Hi, Vincent. Yeah… I'm doing okay. You?" Pause. "Sorry I didn't get to return your call last night." She glanced at Gael and met his eyes. "I...fell asleep early and was busy today."
He was amused. 'She didn't fall asleep, Rock. She was with me. All night. And you're too unimportant to call back.'
"Right… Tomorrow…" She turned to face the window, probably wishing she had more privacy to take the call, but the space in the car was limited. Her voice lowered, yet he could still hear her clearly. "Listen...I'm not sure it's a good idea—" There was a pause before she...laughed.
She friggin' laughed.
Her laughter was beautiful, and he hated that she was laughing at whatever that prick was telling her. His jaw ticked.
"Fine. Okay. Yeah, sure. Alright… I'll see you tomorrow."
The phone call ended, and she pursed her lips into a thin line. Angela realized that he was staring at her. "What?"
"What's happening tomorrow?"
She swallowed. "I'm attending a party."
"With that Ro—Stone?"
"Yeah. It's a favor… I couldn't say no."
"Right." He scoffed. "A favor."
That Rock just kept on pissing him off. As if one obsessed ex of hers wasn't enough, there's another bug he had to be wary of. He had the urge to punch someone. His hand tightly clutched the wheel that his knuckles turned white.
"It's not what you think. It really is a favor."
"Sure. And here I thought you weren't interested in dating."
"I've been clear with him since the start. He knows I'm not interested, and he respects it. We're friends. The line is clear."
Despite what Angela said, Gael still couldn't brush the bitterness off his tone. He was feeling possessive of her even though he didn't have any right to be. "Whatever you say."
She furrowed her brows, clearly annoyed at the way things were after they had a sincere conversation. One phone call changed the mood.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence. Earlier, he was hoping for a little detour and take her somewhere nice, but he was no longer up for it. So he dropped her off at the meeting place where she was supposed to meet her best friend. They were thirty minutes early, but the silence was already deafening.
"Call me when you're done," he told her once he pulled the car to the curb.
She opened her mouth, and he expected her to protest, but she closed it again and nodded before getting out of the car. He watched until she entered the restaurant safely. Then he dialed someone on the phone. "Keep your distance but don't let her out of your sight," he said, ending the call after he received an acknowledgment from one of his men.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, Gael cursed himself for being a dick to her just now. And then he sped off.