It feels like these two are competing for my attention. Gabriel doesn’t even like me. Ben hit me with his truck on purpose. These are a couple of way too good-looking, bizarre guys with ulterior motives that make no sense to me, but then again…I’m a little drunk now.

Ben is on my left and Gabriel on my right. They’re laughing and one-upping each other with stories from their childhood, and I keep finding myself gazing at Gabriel more. He has kaleidoscope eyes with an amber streak in one. Other than that little splash, they’re pale green on the inside, lighter than I’ve seen on anyone, and the irises are lined with forest green. When he laughs they catch fire.

“I rode a motorcycle before you,” Gabriel smirks, using his freshly refilled shot glass as a pointer.

Ben chuckles, his body relaxed, his shot glass held against his lips. “That’s because I had a quad at the ranch. You can’t ride a fucking street bike on three hundred acres of unpaved land.”

“Half that acreage was cut into by that pansy-ass retreat before you were born! How ‘bout you cut that number to its rightful size?”

“It’s huge and you know it.”

“Not as big as mine.”

They’re smirking at each other like they could either fight or start cracking up. Tension is thick. Takes me a second to realize they’re not talking about land anymore. They’re literally comparing penis size, so I cough and speak up for the first time in ten minutes. “I hosted a retreat in Costa Rica once. They’re so great for the soul. What kind do you have there?”

Ben’s eyebrows rise up a little as he looks at me. “It’s changed over the years. We’ve done yoga, vegan living, even Ayahuasca.”

My shot is on the table, finger toying with its rim. “I teach yoga.”

Ben smiles, “I know. I was at your studio, remember?”

I laugh, “Oh yeah,” my stomach warmed by booze and a delicious meal.

Gabriel’s not amused though. He sets his glass down and leans forward. “When were you at her studio?”

I ask Ben, “What is Ayahuasca? I’ve heard the name. Jordanna mentioned it once. Isn’t it illegal?”

“No, it’s a healing ritual that a shaman guides you through where you drink a tea and—”

Gabriel cuts him off, “And everyone sits in a tent, pukes into these buckets and hallucinates. It’s fucking gross.”

I make a face. “They vomit?”

Ben shrugs, “You’re detoxing. It’s removing everything you’re holding onto so you can see your truth.”

“What a load of crap,” Gabriel mutters.

Tracing the rim of my tiny glass with my fingertip, I look at the raven-haired singer and argue, “I think drugs are a path to the spiritual plane. The one we’ll return to once we leave here. I think that’s why some people become addicted, because they’re touching base with the truth of all things – love. The only problem is that all of us are here for a reason, to learn and grow and negotiate a path for ourselves despite all that life throws at us, to define who we are and finish the contract we made before we were born. We’re not supposed to live in the spiritual plane in our human forms. If we visit too often we start to die. That’s why addicts look like corpses after a while, they’re surfing both worlds and their bodies can’t survive it.” I pause and bring the glass to my lips on a shrug, “But if you can visit for a little while and not get sucked in, you might gain clarity toward your purpose. It’s a dangerously thin tightrope only some can walk without falling.”

Gabriel is staring at me with such intensity that a warmth washes over me as I look at him, my drunken speech over and me sitting here realizing I just rambled a little too much. I glance to Ben and see he’s looking at me in exactly the same way.

“I don’t know why I said all that.”

Gabriel says, “Makes sense to me.”

Ben holds his glass out. “Let’s drink to spiritual tightropes.”

We bring our glasses together and the sound feels like a tear ripping something apart.

Our waiter approaches with the dessert menu. “Can I bring you coffee?”

“Another round,” Ben tells him.

Gabriel nods.

I shake my head. “I can’t. I feel woozy.”

“Only two then,” Gabriel tells him, reaching for my hand that’s resting on the table.

I glance to Ben whose tense gaze has dropped to our entwining fingers.

I’ve got to get out of here. Letting go of Gabriel’s fingers I announce a little too loudly, “I have to make a phone call!”

Ben climbs out first. Gabriel glares at him as Ben offers his hand to help me stand.

I take it and croak, “Thank you.”

His eyes are saying all kinds of sexual things as he smirks, “Anytime.”

Oh.

My.

God.

As soon as I’m in the only place where those two men cannot go, I dig my phone out and call Shelby. She doesn’t answer at first and I tap my foot on the ladies room tile, heart racing and vision skewed by alcohol.

“How’d it go?”

“Shelbs! Thank God! I thought you had your ringer off or something!”

She tells her boyfriend, “Hit pause, Carter.” Coming back to me, she explains, “We’re watching a movie so I didn’t hear it vibrate at first. I saw Gabriel kiss you! You’re going to die when you see the photo. I’ll send it after we get off the phone. Tell me everything!” Her boyfriend groans loudly. “Tell me everything in summary form!”

I give her the breakdown of my crazy night, the hand-touching competition as a finale. “What do I do?”

Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, she says, “You enjoy it! His cousin is equally as hot as Gabriel although in a more rugged way, obviously. But Paige, if they’re fighting over you, you know what I say? May the best man win!”

I moan, “You don’t understand. I am not in a place where I can deal with this right now.”

“Why not?”

Staring at the wall I freeze. “Because, I’m very busy.”

Laughing, she says, “You are not! You haven’t been on a date in like six months. All you do is work and read, work and read, work and read. I’m sorry, but you need this right now. I have to go. Carter just put his hand down my pants.” She hangs up.

Muttering to myself, “Well, that’s one way to get her attention, Carter,” I turn to the mirror and pause.

Those two guys are really fighting over me for their own egos. I’m nothing special. Just a normal girl with a so-so face and huge fucking problems. I’m not even going to reapply my lipstick. What’s the point?

Walking back through the restaurant I turn a corner and see Gabriel leaning over our table, furious.

Ben isn’t taking the bait. He’s sitting back with a confident, relaxed look. “You’re too volatile for her, Gabriel.”

I clear my throat to make my approach known.

Their heads turns at the same time, both wondering how much I overheard and neither asking. It takes my breath away how handsome they both are.

Every move Gabriel makes has the grace of a panther and he kind of looks like one, too, with his black hair, black wardrobe and ethereal eyes.

Ben is like a Grizzly bear with his soft brown hair and seemingly harmless resting face, but this morning I saw how he is when poked.

These two in a cage would be a scary thing to behold.

But panthers are quicker, and Gabriel rises out first to take my hand and guide me back to my place in the booth. But before he does he pauses, eyes locked with mine.

“I ordered you one of all the desserts.”

“Every single one of them?”

“Didn’t know which you liked,” he smirks, bringing my fingers to his lips.

Ben groans, “Come on! Laying it on a little thick!”

Gabriel ignores him, but his eyes flicker. I swallow hard and slide onto the leather. Their shot glasses are empty.

“I’ll have one more shot.” I mutter, overwhelmed.

Ben decides this is his moment — he’ll be the one to fetch me that drink. He flies out of the booth, says “I’ll be right back,” and strolls to tell the waiter what I need. His posture says he’s proud of himself for beating his cousin to it.

Gabriel grabs my clutch bag and my hand and yanks me out of the booth, saying under his breath, “Come on!”

My high heels threaten to topple me onto the carpet as I’m half-dragged along. “What are you doing? You’re not leaving him here, are you?”

“Fuck yes I am!” Gabriel growls, pushing the back door open and digging his phone from his pocket and dials.

“My heels!”

He looks at my feet, stops and picks me up before I can react. “Hold this to my ear!”

I do as I’m told as he rushes us around the side of the building, me bouncing in his arms. “Mags! You gave them my credit card number? Well, do it. I just took off out the emergency exit, and I need to pay the bill. Do it now! I’m hanging up!” He looks at me. “Hang up for me.”

I hear her say, “I swear, this job is never boring,” right before I hang up.

He jerks his chin at the driver waiting in a reserved spot by the front door, and whisper-yells, “Start the car!”

Setting me down with all the grace a panther is known for, he whips open the door and ushers me in.

I scoot over in a hurry. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

Gabriel flies into the stretch limo, shouts, “Drive!” and slams the heavy door as we screech away.