Gabbie wanted to look good, but not like she’d tried too hard, and as she turned in front of her mirror, she decided she’d nailed it. She was wearing a pair of running shorts that some athleisure brand had gifted her a few weeks ago and a cropped baby tee. She’d refreshed her puff and worn a little makeup. She smiled despite herself—she couldn’t believe her life. She’d felt so light since casting the binding spell. Part of it was knowing that they’d finished the big assignment they’d been working toward for months. Another part was knowing that she, Delali, and Maya were about to be a part of witch history. After they’d gotten back from casting the spell, the girls slept over at Delali’s, exhausted. But in the morning, over bagels, they sat with the realization that their spell would oust a Regent who had been tormenting other witches for decades, and the fear was replaced with a kind of giddy, buoyant self-satisfaction.
But the most exciting part, Gabbie was ashamed to admit, was knowing that she, Delali, and Maya would soon be going to the Gathering. Delali and Maya had both gotten their invitations at home, the day after they cast the spell. Gabbie was worried she wasn’t invited, but then her invitation arrived while sitting at her desk at school during quiet reading time. Now everything was perfect.
There was a buzz at the door and Gabbie ran to the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Letting you up now!” Gabbie chirped. She pressed the button to open the door, listening through the speaker as it opened. She rushed back to the mirror and fussed with the puff at the crown of her head, stopping only when she heard a knock. Gabbie pressed against the door and looked through the peephole. On the other side, there was Faison, so tall he was almost out of view. He carried an overstuffed tote bag and was wearing a Keke Palmer celebritee with maroon Wales Bonner track pants. He scratched at his stubble and looked around apprehensively. God he was hot. Gabbie opened the door.
“Hi,” Gabbie said, trying to sound equal parts chill and upbeat. It was her first time seeing him since the incident at the Brooklyn Bridge. Gabbie hadn’t responded to the text he’d sent the morning after, opting to ‘like’ the text instead. Part of her thought it was because, well, she was an awkward and conflict-averse person. But another part of her wondered if she just didn’t want to give Faison written confirmation that she was “down for friendship.” She didn’t want to lie. “Come in.”
“Hey, you,” Faison said as he entered, giving Gabbie a smile. He slipped out of his shearling Birkenstocks in the entryway. “I know you have a thing about shoes inside.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Gabbie said, closing the door behind him. Maybe Faison didn’t hate her after all. “Could I get you water or a drink or something?”
“Water’s good,” Faison said. He held his hand up in salute. “Strictly business over here.”
Gabbie’s heart dropped. “Yeah, of course,” she said, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass. She pointed to her coffee table. “You can set up over there. Sorry, it’s so small in here.”
“No,” Faison replied. “This place is sick. You really did it up nice.”
Gabbie looked over from the sink to smile at Faison, but he was already studiously pulling fabric out of his bag. Wow, Gabbie thought, no small talk at all. He really was here for business. When Gabbie had gotten her invitation for the Gathering, she didn’t think twice before DMing Faison.
@craftingandcoconutoil
@celebriteesshop
@celebriteesshop
Now she wondered if reaching out was a mistake.
“So I did a first rough cut of the dress,” Faison started. “I went with something kind of fitted on top and flowy on the bottom. The idea behind that was to accentuate your waist. Respectfully.” He scratched his stubble as he stared at the dress, one hand on his hip. “But also I felt like feminine and flowy is more your vibe so I wanted to represent that, too. I’ve been waiting to use this fabric for a while too—it looks like it’s solid but it actually has a little bit of a shimmer to it. Nothing too crazy, though. What do you think?”
Gabbie walked into the living room and passed the glass of water to Faison silently, her eyes trained on the dress. The fabric was pale purple, and Faison was right, it did glimmer when you looked at it closely. The top had a wide, open halter neckline, with fabric pooled at the bust to make a low, neat cowlneck. Over the fitted bodice, the silk was gathered toward a center seam, so neat that it looked like it was pleated. Then, at the hip, the structure gave way to a luxuriant skirt of lightweight overlapping silk, a slit running up to the top. Gabbie was amazed that Faison could imagine her in something like that.
Faison looked at Gabbie, his face tense with expectation.
“It’s definitely rough, and there are still some seams that need to be finished. There’s plenty of time to change it if you don’t like it. But if you like the general shape it would be good to do a fitting. Either way I should get your measurements for whatever design we decide on.”
“Faison, it’s perfect. It’s perfect.”
He let out a dramatic breath and wiped imaginary sweat off his brow. “Yeah?”
“Um, yeah! Look at this. I had no idea—” She shook her head. “Can I please please please put it on? I know it’s not finished but can I?”
“Yeah of course. We need to check the fit.”
Gabbie went to the bathroom with the surprisingly heavy armful of silk and dressed. When she came back out to the living room / kitchen / bedroom, Faison was fiddling with his measuring tape and looking too big for her tiny sofa.
“What do you think?” she asked hesitantly.
Faison looked up and broke into a smile, in what Gabbie thought might be appreciation. But it vanished so quickly that she couldn’t be sure. “It looks great. But the fit . . .” he said, studious again.
Gabbie pulled on the tight halter strap and baggy waist. “Not ideal,” she said with a giggle.
“Here, stand in front of that mirror while I adjust it. You can let me know what seems right.”
Gabbie tried not to stare at Faison in the reflection, but it was hard. Faison came up behind her, and she was immediately undone by his proximity. She watched him work, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep a bunch of pins held between his lips.
“Stand up a bit straighter?” he said, murmuring through the mouthful of pins.
Gabbie did as instructed and Faison stretched the tape over her shoulder, his rough fingertips paralyzing her each time they touched her skin. It was way too quiet. She worried Faison could hear her heart beating or see her thoughts getting carried away.
“What’s this event you’re going to?” Faison asked. He was on his knees now, pinning the hem of the skirt. “I mean, whatever it is, a mention on Crafting will be a game-changer for us. You’re almost at a million now.”
“Oh, it’s an influencer thing. A gala,” Gabbie fibbed. “No pictures inside, unfortunately. But I’ll take tons before and after.”
“Cool,” Faison said. He moved up to Gabbie’s waist now, considering the top of the skirt. “This isn’t quite right either, is it?”
“No,” Gabbie said quietly. “You just need to take it in, right?”
Faison shook his head. He’d lowered his voice to match Gabbie’s. “It’s not that simple.” He rested his hand on her, halfway between her hip and her butt. The warmth of his hand radiated through the silk, and Gabbie felt a jolt of heat in her stomach. “You might need a dart or two. We want the fabric to run like this, see?” He ran his hand up and down to demonstrate.
Gabbie nodded, her heart thrumming as they made eye contact in the mirror. Faison looked away to begin pinning, and Gabbie had a feeling so heart-wrenching it forced her into action. She knelt and turned to face Faison, who, though he seemed surprised, was still, eyes trained on her. She placed his hand back on her hip and looked up at him, at his neck, his lips, and then finally his vivid brown eyes, which seemed to be brimming with something. Hunger? Gabbie leaned up and kissed him, a deep, sudden kiss. Faison responded with expert lips, slow but sure. But Gabbie’s new desire made her impatient. She intensified the kiss again, pushing a hand into his thick hair. Faison dropped his measuring tape and took Gabbie’s face in his hands.
After a moment she pulled away and motioned urgently. “The couch.” They stumbled toward it, one moment kissing and the next holding their faces silently, breathlessly close. In some part of her mind, Gabbie knew this was absurd, dramatic, immoral, but it felt too natural for her to stop. Faison backed Gabbie up against the arm of her couch, and they fell clumsily onto the hard, square cushions. He helped Gabbie maneuver herself out of the halter, then pulled his celebritee over his head in one swift motion before lowering himself on top of her, kissing her urgently. Gabbie threw her leg over Faison’s back, drawing him closer, stunned by how good it felt to finally touch him.
Faison peeled the dress down and off, revealing the seafoam-green Aerie underwear set only Dan had seen before him. Faison’s eyes roamed her body appreciatively before he settled a hand on the curve of her waist and began kissing her again. His kisses moved from Gabbie’s lips to her jawline, his hands from her hip to between her inner thighs, and she heard a sigh escape her lips. She pulled him even closer, until their bodies pressed flush against each other. Faison’s ragged breathing filled her ear, his hands tensing and relaxing as they roamed her body, and the smell of his cologne overtook the acrylic paint odor that never seemed to have left her tiny apartment. Then Faison tucked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, easing the fabric down thoughtfully. He spent a lasting, tender moment at her neck before placing his hands on her hips and moving downward, his head settling, finally, between her thighs.
* * *
After ten minutes of satisfied silence, Faison spoke first.
“That was—unexpected,” he said, a smile in his voice. He kissed the side of Gabbie’s head, which he was cradling against his shoulder. “I promise I was trying to be professional.”
Gabbie didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. Her head was spinning. What the fuck had she just done? Well, besides have her first man-assisted orgasm. She’d just had sex with someone who was definitely not her boyfriend of nearly five years. What kind of person had she turned into? Sure, Dan had his problems, and he’d barely called in the past few weeks, but cheating was never okay. She felt sick.
Faison bent his head down, scrunching his neck to try and get a look at Gabbie’s face. “You asleep?” Gabbie shook her head wordlessly and Faison, catching her worried expression, sat up. “Are you okay?”
Gabbie buried her face in her hands. “Faison,” she started, her voice muffled. “I have a boyfriend.” A boyfriend who apparently didn’t speak unless spoken to, but still.
An eternity passed. Or at least, it felt like an eternity, even though it had probably only been ten seconds. Faison didn’t say anything, and when Gabbie finally looked up she could see his jaw clenching and unclenching. She pulled her underwear on slowly, then grabbed a T-shirt from the pile of dirty clothes she’d hidden in her desk chair earlier.
“Wow,” was all Faison said. He licked his lips and shook his head, rising from the sofa. He dressed in record time.
“Can you say something, Faison? Please?” Gabbie begged.
Faison scratched his stubble again and finally looked at her, his face unnervingly blank. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never been in this kind of situation before but . . . I don’t know.” His face dimmed and Gabbie had to look away. “I guess I just didn’t expect it from you.”
His facial expression, a devastating combination of disappointment and hurt, was making her nauseous. He just didn’t get it: her situation with Dan, the stress in her life, the way hanging out with Faison, even just DMing him, seemed to make all of that vanish. She could fix this. She just needed to find a way to end things with Dan, then she and Faison could pick up where they’d left off. But by the look on his face, Gabbie figured the damage might be done. She wanted so badly to rearrange it, back into that mischievous, amused look he always gave her.
“I’m sorry Faison. I’m so, so sorry. I’m really not that kind of girl at all. I’m like, the opposite of that girl—”
Faison shook his head and turned toward the door.
“No, really,” Gabbie said, standing. “Please just let me explain. It’s just that Dan is so . . . he’s nothing like you.”
This seemed to disgust Faison even more, and Gabbie realized she should probably shut up. But she couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving so upset with her, the thought of him going home and stewing in his anger, or writing her off completely. Or worse, the idea of him meeting some hot girl at The Bar that night and forgetting all about her. As Faison slipped on his Birkenstocks, Gabbie grabbed his arm and he turned to face her, confused. She caught his gaze and held it, centering herself, her heartbeat slowing as she summoned her power. Faison was unmoving as she worked, their eyes locked together. Gabbie waited for his expression to change, for it to grow cloudy, then relax, the way it had with Michael and her students and the head of influencer marketing at Elmer’s.
But it didn’t. Faison just furrowed his brow, shook his head, and released his arm from her grip.
“Whatever Gabbie. I’ll just finish this dress for you, all right?”
Gabbie
Gabbie