A Love Worth Writing

by Punkpoet69

Gabriella is newly divorced and craving a fresh start, or at least a carefree fling to distract her from her life's mess. But in a tiny Texas town with a population of 764, where gossip spreads faster than a prairie fire, keeping a low profile is easier said than done, especially when everyone's already whispering about her cheating ex-husband and her backstabbing ex-bestfriend.

Writer's Note

As the year came to a close, I found myself in an unexpected creative rut. I didn't want to read, I didn't want to write, and for a while, I didn't feel like myself. It was frustrating, and if I'm being honest, a little scary. Writing has always been my outlet, my way of making sense of the world, so feeling disconnected from it left me unmotivated.

Around Thanksgiving I set a goal for myself: to take my time creatively, to rediscover the joy I'd once felt in storytelling. I decided to revisit an older piece—a story someone had reviewed and left kind words about. That story was Not Quite Dating. I figured, why not? Maybe working on it would help me feel grounded again.

And it did. Slowly but surely, as I revised and reimagined this story, I started to feel like myself again. I started reading again, writing again, feeling again. I want to keep writing. Not sure if the next piece will be an original or a revise but I am still here. Proudly still working on Fanfics and just vibing out.

So, here it is—my revised, redrafted, and newly titled version of Not Quite Dating, now called A Love Worth Writing. I hope you enjoy this labor of love as much as I've enjoyed rediscovering my own passion through it. Thank you for reading and know that your kind words have always motivated me and filled me with joy.

A Love Worth Writing.

Gabriella

Gabriella tugged her bag higher on her shoulder as she glanced at the garbage can where her three chapters had just met their untimely demise. She felt the weight of Michael's words settle over her. He was right, of course—she was stuck, and it showed. But she wasn't about to let him see her sweat. Not today.

"Do you ever get tired of being so dramatic, Michael?" she asked lightly, smoothing her skirt as if she wasn't mentally dissecting every critique he'd just made.

Michael Hennings was the most unlikely looking agent she'd ever seen. If she had to cast him in a book, he'd be an ex-Navy sergeant – a Hulk who dressed in fine suits, French cuffed shirts, and silk ties.

Michael didn't look up from the notes he'd started jotting down on his leather-bound pad. "Do you ever get tired of wasting my time with half-baked prose?"

She gave him a mock salute. "Noted. I'll just go now and try not to embarrass you any further."

"Do more than try, Gabriella." He paused, finally glancing up at her with those sharp, unyielding eyes of his. "I mean it. The market is saturated with writers who'd kill to be in your position. You've got the talent, but if you keep phoning it in like this, someone else will take your place."

"Your faith in me is truly inspiring," she quipped, masking the sting of his words with her trademark sarcasm.

In reality, she knew the chapters were shit. Below shit. To call them shit was romanticizing it. The book was awful. She'd been distracted, depressed and out of sorts since the divorce and it was affecting her writing.

When your life was in shambles it was hard to keep up with the fantasy.

Michael leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. "This isn't about faith. It's about results. You created BrIe Carmichael because you wanted to keep you anonymity and write without anyone judging the real you. Fine. But Brie didn't get famous by churning out subpar stories. Heart Under the Hood was a box office sensation. You have a brand, and it works. It works very well. So stop acting like a jilted ex and remember why you started this in the first place."

The air seemed heavier now. Gabriella blinked, her retort dying on her tongue.

"I haven't forgotten," she said quietly, the edge in her voice softening. Love. She started all of this because of her faith and belief in love. In the overwhelming, swept up can eat or think straight kind of love.

Her parents love story was the first love story she ever told. It was the jumping point that put everything else in motion.

"Good," Michael replied, his tone gentler now, though still firm. "You've got something special, Gabriella. Don't waste it. And don't let that asshole of an ex husband be the reason you fail."

"This is not about Jason."

Micheal leaned back in his seat. "You're angry. You're hurt. Maybe even a little embarrassed. And while I've been patient while you lick your wounds in private we have a deadline."

"Yeah," Gabriella nodded. "I know."

"Then don't submit trash and expect me to call it a bestseller." Micheal grunted. "Your publisher and the studio want another box office hit. There's an entire marketing plan in the works for the next three years and all that's missing is the product. A product that I have told them is refreshingly witty and passionate."

Her spine stiffened automatically, "Okay," she said in an attempt to keep her voice steady. "I'll rework it."

Micheal eyed her with concern before he glanced down at his notes. "How are things otherwise?"

"It's been okay."

Micheal nodded. "Just okay?"

"Well," she said with a shrug. "Its been a shitty couple of months. I've tried to keep my mind off things but everytime I turn around there's a reminder of it shoved in my face."

Micheal nodded, "Why don't you write about it. Use it as material."

Gabriella let out another huff. When Michael didn't comment she nodded, gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter as she headed for the door. Before stepping out, she turned back.

"And Michael?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Fix the damn ceiling. I refuse to have a creative breakthrough while dodging falling plaster."

For the first time that afternoon, Michael cracked a small smile. "Get me a bestseller, and I'll consider it."

Gabriella smirked, stepping out into the hallway. She had six weeks to get her act together. Six weeks to prove she still had it. Brie Carmichael wasn't going anywhere, at least not yet.

Damn it.

The problem was, she was out of ideas. The constant hum of dialogue had stopped. Her characters had refused to cooperate and the worlds she once built had suddenly closed her out.

Which was ridiculous. They were her creations in the first place. For years her imagination had been in overdrive, fantasy after fantasy of romantic adventures poured out of her. The books practically wrote themselves. Her characters found each other over and over again no matter what scenarios and circumstances.

Gabriella needed inspiration—and not the kind you find scribbled on Post-it notes or in the margins of a half-finished manuscript. She needed a spark, a jolt, something visceral to shake her out of this creative and emotional rut.

Troy

Throwing a barbecue seemed like the perfect way to keep things good-natured in the neighborhood amidst the tenison. What he hadn't expected was Jason's abrupt departure with Martha the day before. That bit of ugliness had plagued the entire vibe of the barbecue. It had been to late to cancel so here he was, flipping burgers and serving up ribs while people gossiped. He forced a smile as he stood by the grill, watching the burgers sizzle, his thoughts drifted back to how it all started.

When Troy first took on the garage from his grandfather, it had been a risky venture. He and Jason had gone into business together, pooling their resources and dreams into what they hoped would be a thriving auto shop. The early days were rough—bills piling up faster than they could handle, customers trickling in at a pace that barely kept the lights on. There were moments when Troy thought the garage wouldn't make it. He had almost lost it all.

But Jason had stepped up in a way Troy hadn't expected. With a mix of determination and sheer stubbornness, Jason found ways to keep the business afloat. He worked tirelessly, sometimes pulling double shifts, bringing in new clients, and keeping their spirits high when things looked bleak. It was Jason's unyielding support that gave Troy the strength to push through the tough times.

Then, just when the business began to stabilize, Gabriella had come into their lives. She wasn't just a new face at the front desk; she brought a sharp mind and a knack for numbers that neither of them possessed. Gabriella cleaned up the books, streamlined their finances, and showed them where they could cut costs without sacrificing quality. Her meticulous work turned their struggling business into a profitable one.

As Troy flipped the burgers, he couldn't help but reflect on how his success today was built on the help of both Jason and Gabriella. Jason had been his partner in the trenches, and Gabriella had been the steady hand that guided them out of the chaos. Their contributions were woven into every part of the garage's success.

Now, with Jason gone, he didn't really know what to expect. Would have to hire on more help? Could they afford to do that? He was going to have to talk with Jason about his half of the garage. Maybe offer to buy him out. If he could afford to do it.

He had hoped that a barbecue would be simple gesture to bring some light back into their small community, to focus on something positive. But as the smoke rose from the grill and the familiar smell of charred meat filled the air, Troy also thought about how much more complicated everything was under the surface.

Ever since Gabriella moved to town, he'd been drawn to her. She had this light, this energy that made it impossible not to notice her. But Jason had seen her first. Jason had made the first move, and as his best friend, Troy had taken a backseat, convinced it was the right thing to do. He'd buried his feelings, told himself it was for the best. She was with Jason, his best friend. That was the end of it. Or so he thought.

Now, everything was different. Jason had cheated on her, left her heartbroken, and Troy had watched it all unfold, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. He was pissed at Jason for throwing away what he had, for hurting Gabriella, for making her sad in a way that no one should ever feel. And yet, here he was, stuck in this awkward position of being her roommate, her friend, and the best friend of the man who screwed her over.

All of this was a stupid idea.

Laughter and the murmurs of people enjoying the taste of his special smoky barbecue rub filtered into his thoughts. But he also couldn't help overhear the occasional murmur or whisper about Jason and Gabriella's divorce or the occasion whisper of himself haboring his best friends ex-wife. The whispers made him want to kick the grill over. But he refrained. Because, yes this day had gone to shit. To make matters worst at the last minute Gabriella announced she was gonna be gone all afternoon. So, instead of cooling things down this entire idea was probably the equivalent to throwing more wood onto the fire. The gossip mill was alive and present.

Yeah, some of the gossip was a little truth, he'd had a thing for her for years—long before Jason had screwed things up with her. But Troy had buried those feelings deep, telling himself it wasn't right to want something that belonged to his best friend. Even now, after the divorce, he didn't know how to navigate his feelings. Was it fair to make a move? Did she even see him that way?

Even though Jason was gone. He was still very much present.

He wiped his hands on a towel, forcing himself to stay focused. Stupid Jason. Stupid rumors. Stupid everything.

Sharpay approached with two beers in hand, offering one to Troy. He took it gratefully, nodding in thanks. She leaned against the table next to him, watching the guests with a soft smile before turning her attention to him.

Sharpay Evans was one of Gabriella's closest friends and by default one of his too because she hung around so much. She also figured out his secret feelings about Gabriella years ago and had always given him a little more of a sympathetic nodd of comfort.

"You holding up okay? You've been really quiet."

He nodded before taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah, I guess. Just… thinking."

"How did she react when she found out?" Sharpay asked, eyeing a few of the party goers. She was asking about Friday morning, when the last of the papers were brought over from the sale of their house. Along with the news that Jason and Martha had decided it was for the best to leave town.

"She decided to clean the bathroom, then at four in the morning I found her reorganizing my kitchen." He grunted while he flipped a few of the burgers on the grill.

Sharpay let out a huff.

After her divorce, she had become a constant in Troy's life—a necessary crutch in the chaos they both found themselves navigating. Her husband's betrayal hadn't just upended her world; it had rocked his, too. Jason had been his best friend since elementary school, a bond forged through scraped knees and countless afternoons on the basketball court. To learn the man he thought he knew could treat his wife that way—cheating with Martha, one of her closest friends—had been a punch to the gut.

While Troy coped with his inner turmoil a few beers at a time Gabriella had channeled her pain and anger into organizing his house and taking on some DIY projects he helped out with along the way. Together they sanded and revarished the kitchen cabinets, built and painted some built ins by the front door for their shoes and coats. Their friendship had changed, for what felt like the billionth time. But what had he been to her during those early days? The guy who reached the high shelves? A warm body in the next room? He wasn't sure.

It was two days after the affair bomb dropped that she'd shown up on his doorstep. Her dog, Blue was at her side, tail wagging, and her hands holding onto a bag that looked heavier than it should've been. Everything about her had seemed different that night—crushed and fragile in a way that made his chest ache.

"Jason asked for a divorce," she'd said, her voice hollow, eyes rimmed red. "I have nowhere to go."

So he'd done what any friend would. He spent the weekend moving his weights to the basement and repainting the spare room next to his. By the end of the week, her moving boxes were stacked neatly in his hallway.

It started slow, as these things always did. She spent those first few weeks locked away, barely coming out for anything but food or water. Then came the evenings watching games together on TV, first in silence, then with the occasional comment or shared laugh. Popcorn became pizza; pizza became dinners they cooked together. Somewhere in the middle of it all, she'd started coming downstairs for breakfast, too.

By the fifth month, she wasn't just surviving—she was thriving again. Her laugh was back, the way it lit up the room and made him feel like everything might be okay. She returned to work regularly, her confidence slowly rebuilding brick by brick. They fell into a rhythm—dinners every night, shared conversations, unspoken glances that lingered longer than they should have. It worked. It all worked.

"Where is she?" Sharpay asked, before lifting her drink.

His thoughts cleared and he looked up at Sharpay with a shrug. "I think she said she had a doctor's appointment?" Troy said not really sure he heard her correctly as she hurried out the door this afternoon. "I didn't want to press too much, she seemed anxious."

"And you?" Sharpay shifted. "How are you doing with all this?"

Troy shrugged. "My friend turned out to be an asshole. I thought I knew him, you know? We've been friends since we were kids. But what he did… running off with Martha… it's like I didn't know him at all."

Sharpay nodded thoughtfully. "It's hard when people surprise you like that."

"Yeah, I've been trying to be there for her, but sometimes I feel like I'm just stumbling through it. It's like everything I thought I knew about relationships, about people… it's all been flipped upside down."

Sharpay turned back to him, her expression softening. "It's natural to feel that way. You've had a front-row seat to their whole mess, and that's bound to shake you up. But from what I can tell, Gabriella really appreciates having you around. You've been her rock, even if you don't see it."

Troy shrugged. "I hope so. I just… I want her to be happy again. She deserves that after everything."

Sharpay smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "She'll get there. I think she's starting to. I've seen her smile more lately, and that's a good sign. Just keep doing what you're doing. She's lucky to have you."

He should've felt comforted by the praise, but instead, a wave of guilt washed over him. How could he take any pride in being there for Gabriella when, deep down, he felt like a complete asshole?

What kind of friend did that make him? he wondered, his jaw tightening. He hated the part of himself that still harbored feelings for her, that still felt that flicker of hope every time she smiled at him, even if it wasn't in the way he wished. It made him feel like a creep, like he was betraying her trust in some way just by thinking about it. She was vulnerable, and he was supposed to be the steady one, the friend she could rely on without any ulterior motives.

But no matter how hard he tried to push it down, that hope lingered. It whispered to him late at night when they sat on the couch together, too close but not close enough. It gnawed at him when she laughed at one of his stupid jokes, a little more freely than before. He wanted to believe that maybe, someday, she'd look at him the way he'd always looked at her. But was that fair to her? Was that fair to anyone?

Troy sighed, taking a long pull from his beer. Get it together, man.

Gabriella

An hour later, her forehead was pressed against the steering wheel of her truck, the house just a blur in the periphery of her vision. A party rumbled in the distance, the faint sounds of music and chatter carrying on the evening breeze. She took a steadying breath.

This was stupid.

As if reading her mind, her golden retriever, Blue let out a sigh that made her look over at him in disbelief. "I'm sorry, am I holding you back from living your best life?"

He answered her with a huff.

Blue was the dedicated type. Ever since she first got him as a pup he followed her everywhere and hung on her every word. He was turning six years old this year and he was still as faithful and playful as the day she brought him home from the pound.

A tap on the window startled her. "Are you planning to sit out here all night?" Sharpay's voice, sugary with her southern twang, cut through Gabriella's spiraling thoughts. Her blonde haired friend leaned casually on the truck, a half empty beer in hand.

Gabriella let out a sigh and pushed open the door. "Hey," she offered.

"Where have you been?" Sharpay questioned. "People are asking about you? They think you're on the brink of killing yourself or something? Everyone's buzzing about the news of Jason leaving town with Martha." That cute country accent rolled off her tongue and Gabriella looked up at Sharpay with a forced smile.

Gee, thanks for the reminder. As if she could forget it.

She hopped out of the truck. The sounds of laughter and conversation getting louder from the backyard, but Gabriella couldn't bring herself to join just yet.

"You know," Gabriella said aloud, glancing at Sharpay, "Jason moving out of town with her feels like he's abandoned me all over again."

Sharpay leaned against the truck, her hand resting gently on Gabriella's shoulder. "He's an asshole."

Gabriella let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "It's not enough that he left me for Martha. No, now he's left the business, his friends, his family... everything. Like nothing in this town mattered to him, like I didn't matter."

The words hung heavy in the air. Jason had always been impulsive, always looking for the next thrill or escape. But this time, his departure felt final, as though he'd wiped the slate clean and erased every connection they once had.

"Come on, Gabi, you mattered," Sharpay said firmly. "He's just an idiot."

Blue hopped out of the truck and nudged her leg as if he, too, understood the weight of her sadness.

Gabriella bent down to scratch behind his ears, her fingers tangling in his soft fur. "I know, I know," she said softly. "I shouldn't let it get to me. It's just... everyone's probably back there talking about it. How he ran off with her, how he left me behind like some old piece of luggage. And I'm supposed to what? Smile and act like I'm fine?"

"You don't have to pretend," Sharpay said, her voice gentle but firm. "But you also don't have to carry his mistakes. You've got people who care about you, who see your worth. Don't let him take that from you."

Gabriella nodded, her eyes misting over as she stood. Her fight with Jason was always to be seen. She hated the woman she was with him. How quiet, content and dim her own light had become because she gotten comfortable as that woman. As that passive passenger in their real life. She poured everything she had into her writing, into the her career as Brie Carmichael and she let herself Gabriella Montez be silenced.

And she hated it. Hated him.

She barely made it out of that marriage with a sense of self still intact. And she had been delighted when he had sold his half of the garage to her.

Only he hadn't told Troy about that.

No, he was to much of a coward to own up to the mess he created in the first place. So she stayed on as a silent partner, tethered to the business and to Troy, while Jason skipped town to chase whatever fleeting happiness Martha offered him.

"It's just so frustrating," Gabriella murmured. "Jason wasn't just my husband; he was Troy's best friend. His business partner. Then he just up and leaves. No explanation, no closure."

Sharpay sighed. "He's a coward, Gabriella. But you're stronger than him. You've always been the one holding things together. You'll get through this."

If only that were true. She'd just been fortunate to have the money to dig them out of trouble. It wasn't until after she'd gotten into the books at the garage that she actually been able to find out where the money was going and really right the damage that had been done by Jason carelessness. She took to bookkeeping. She enjoyed her work at the garage and her writing. It gave her the opportunity to have something that was really hers to stand on. The proof was in their success. Her money may have save the business but Troy and Jason's passion for the work, her diligence in the finances, that's what kept the garage going.

Well it did. Until Jason left for good last week. Leaving it all on their shoulders to carry.

Blue nudged her leg again, his tail wagging gently. Gabriella managed a small smile, feeling a flicker of warmth despite the ache in her chest. "Thanks, Sharpay," she said. "It means a lot."

She shut the driverside door. The weight of the last few months settling heavily on her. Michael's words from earlier drifted into her mind, unbidden: "Why don't you write about it? Use it as material."

Gabriella let out a bitter laugh. "Use it as material," she muttered, her gaze falling on Blue again. "Maybe he's right. If Jason gets to move on without looking back, maybe I should turn this mess into something useful."

"What?" Sharpay asked.

"I had a meeting with Michael today," she offered. Sharpay was the only person, other than Jason, who knew her secret. And it was better that way. It has been easier to seek off to movie premieres and away trips to hash out screen plays with the studio under the gise of a girls weekend or getaway. No one even blinked an eye. And Sharpay loved the first class treatment and accommodations.

"It didn't go well?"

Gabriella shook her head. "The books no good."

"We knew that."

She narrowed her eyes at Sharpay.

"Hey, you said it was crap yesterday," Sharpay held up her hands in surrender. "I'm just agreeing with you. And apparently Michael."

Kicking the ground she left her self fall back against her truck. "Nothing is working." Gabriella pouted.

"Maybe you should change up the scenario." Sharpay shrugged, "Maybe you could write about something else."

"I don't have anything else." Gabriella let out an sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest.. "I'm out of ideas."

"You?" Sharpay said with a raised brow. "Out of ideas? Don't think I didn't see the bathroom pintrest board your putting together for the upstairs."

"That's different," Gabriella said with a laugh. "This place needs some redecorating and you know it."

"So, you're telling me that reimagining an entire bathroom is easier than coming up with ideas for your next book?" Sharpay teased, arching a brow.

Gabriella groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Yes! Do you have any idea how much easier it is to pick out tiles and fixtures than it is to figure out where the hell my characters are going? I've been staring at a blank screen for days."

Sharpay laughed, nudging her with her elbow. "Maybe you need to take some inspiration from real life. What's the bathroom idea, anyway?"

Gabriella brightened a little. "Okay, so, I was thinking about this vintage, rustic vibe. Lots of wood accents, maybe a clawfoot tub, brass fixtures. It's got this cozy, timeless feel, but still fresh, you know?"

Sharpay nodded approvingly. "I like it. But see, you just described all that with no problem. Why can't you channel that into your book?"

"I wish it were that simple," Gabriella sighed. "I mean, I could write about my ideas for the bathroom all day, but that's not exactly bestseller material."

"Well, what's your story about? Maybe we can brainstorm," Sharpay offered, tilting her head thoughtfully.

Gabriella hesitated, biting her lip. "It's supposed to be a second chance romance, but I'm stuck on the love interest. It was loosely based on Jason but… then it wasn't."

She had always thought her leading men bore a striking resemblance to Jason, her default blueprint for charm and rugged masculinity. The way they tilted their heads when they listened, the way they carried themselves with an easy confidence, even the way they smirked when teasing the heroines—it all felt familiar, like Jason had been unknowingly immortalized in her pages.

And now. It was like she never him who that man was. It had all been a lie and that man. The one she wrote about was an imposter.

She thought it was normal, even sweet, to borrow his quirks: the way he always ran his thumb along the rim of his coffee cup or the faint Southern lilt that softened his words. In her mind, Jason had been her inspiration, her "type," the ideal hero readers would fall for, just as she once had.

It hadn't occurred to her, not yet, that maybe those characters weren't based on love or admiration, but on the control he quietly exerted over her, shaping her idea of romance into something that looked a lot like him—but felt nothing like love.

And that was when the voices stopped.

"I don't know, it was gonna be based on self discovery after divorce and then, it wasn't. Now that just seems cheesy. But I've always been really good at writing from a little Colonel truth. I don't know. Now it all feels wrong. Like a leading man for a story like that. I want to believe he exists, someone who is supposed to be strong, kind, but with this depth to him that makes him real."

Sharpay's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Why don't you just base him on someone you know?"

"Please don't ask me to base it on Zeke." She cringed. "I have no interest in-"

"Not Zeke." Her shoulders dropped as she looked at Gabriella with exasperation. "Seriously, there's not another man in your life that comes to mind?"

Gabriella blinked, the gears in her mind starting to turn. "Someone I know?"

"Yeah," Sharpay said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Someone who's all those things you just described. Someone like… Troy."

Gabriella laughed, but that didn't mean the idea didn't quickly take root. "Troy? I don't know…"

When Gabriella thought of Troy, she didn't picture a traditional leading man. He was too unpredictable, too much of a wild card. But he was the perfect muse when it came to crafting dialogue or plotting mischievous situations. It almost couldn't be helped, Troy had this effortless charm, the kind that could smooth over just about anything, and a knack for finding trouble in the most unexpected places. His quick wit and shameless grin often found their way into her stories—sparks of humor or clever comebacks that felt undeniably him.

But as the love interest?

Troy wasn't the hero who swept in to save the day; he was the guy who stumbled into chaos, half the time causing it, and somehow made everything more interesting. She never thought of him as the kind of man to inspire grand declarations of love or sweeping romantic arcs, but when she needed a character to feel alive—sharp, unpredictable, and fun—Troy was always there, tucked into the edges of her imagination.

Gabrielle winced.

"Why not? He's strong, kind, definitely has depth. Plus, he's right under your nose," Sharpay grinned, giving Blue a pat on the head.

Gabriella considered it, the idea had excitement. "I mean, he does have that quiet, dependable thing going on. And he's been through a lot, which would give the character some layers…"

"Exactly," Sharpay encouraged. "And it's not like you have to tell him. It's just a little inspiration. You've done that kind of thing before haven't you?"

"Well," she paused. "I mean yeah."

"Then why not?"

Gabriella's mind raced with possibilities, scenes forming in her head. If anyone was the antithesis of Jason, it was him. While Jason had spent their marriage chasing every fleeting impulse in an attempt at building something solid, Troy had built a life that was steady, grounded, and unshakable almost completely by accident.

It was a big trigger for Jason. He never came out and said it. But she could always tell.

Troy was loyal to his friends, his job, and the people who relied on him. His auto garage was more than just a workplace—it was a second home to half the town, a place where people came not just for car repairs but for advice, camaraderie, and the kind of kindness that seemed so rare these days.

Because that's who Troy was. A good neighbor.

Gabriella shifted her weight from foot to foot, her lips curling into a faint smile. Troy was dependable, selfless, and—if she were being honest—achingly attractive in his unassuming way. His lifestyle wasn't glamorous, but it was real. Honest. And there was something about the way he carried himself, so sure and steady, that made her feel like she could breathe a little easier when he was around.

"Okay, you might be onto something. I could totally use him as a model for the character. Maybe, could be fun at least?"

Sharpay beamed. "See? Sometimes the best ideas are right in front of you."

At that they both started on their way to the house, blue walking beside her the sound of his paws trotting along as they walked. "So how many people are actually back there talking about me?"

Sharpay winced. "Maybe, we don't think about that right now."

Great.

Gabriella bit her bottom lip as her thoughts wandered further. The past six years of Gabriella's life had been a whirlwind of unexpected twists and turns. When her mother died she decided to pack up everything she owned and moving across the country, she had faced her share of upheaval. When she loaded up her old truck with her belongings and Blue, she didn't have a clue where she was heading—just that she needed a fresh start. Her parents were gone, she was an only child, and whatever extended family might exist was scattered across places she'd never been.

Her arrival in Payne Springs, Texas, was a night forever etched in her memory. It was pouring rain, the kind of storm that soaked you to the bone, and her truck had slid into a ditch on a backroad. She and Blue trudged up the muddy road until they spotted the warm lights of a roadside bar. Exhausted and drenched, she stepped inside and asked for help. That's when she met Troy and Jason.

The two men had been sitting in a corner booth, and when they heard her predicament, they didn't hesitate. Troy offered to tow her truck back to his garage, and Jason charmed her with his easy smile and genuine kindness. Both of them were tall, handsome, and every bit the Southern gentlemen.

From that night, the two became fixtures in her life. Troy gave her a desk job at the garage, where she helped balance the books and answer phones. Jason swept her off her feet with his charm, and before she knew it, they were head over heels in love. Looking back, she realized they'd probably moved too fast, marrying just a year after they started dating.

Through it all, Troy had been her steadfast friend. When everything unraveled—when she walked in on Jason's betrayal—Troy was the one who stood by her. Jason had stumbled through excuses, but before Gabriella could even react, Troy had landed a punch square on his childhood friend's jaw. It was a moment that shocked her into clarity. From that day forward, Troy became her rock, standing beside her through thick and thin.

Gabriella straightened, her resolve strengthening. "I think I can make this idea of yours work."

"Is that the sound of a certain writer's block shattering?" Sharpay asked with a raised brow.

"Don't be smug." Gabriella laughs.

"I can be a little smug."

Troy

Troy stood near the grill, flipping burgers while chatting with a couple of friends. The smell of sizzling meat filled the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the guests scattered across the yard. He glanced around, his eyes scanning for Gabriella. When he finally spotted her, his breath hitched just a little.

She had arrived quietly, slipping into the crowd with a natural ease. She wore a sundress, the kind that seemed to float around her in the breeze. The soft, airy fabric clung just enough to hint at her figure but remained modest, the hem brushing just above her knees. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face. In one hand, she held a beer, and she was laughing at something one of the neighbors had said, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

As usual, Blue had claimed his favorite spot on the patio, soaking up the attention from a group of little ones eagerly petting him and running their fingers through his golden fur. The big softy had a special fondness for kids, leaning into their gentle touches with a contented sigh. Troy had set aside a couple of turkey burgers just for him, ready to be served once Blue had his fill of belly rubs and "good boy" praises from the party guests.

Troy found himself smiling. She looked comfortable, at ease—a sight he hadn't seen often since the divorce. He flipped the last burger and handed off the spatula to a friend before making his way toward her, his heart thudding just a bit faster with each step.

As he approached, Gabriella turned, catching his eye. Her smile widened when she saw him, and he felt a warm rush of something he couldn't quite name.

"Hey," he greeted, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. "Glad you finally made it. I was almost afraid you might miss it."

"Wouldn't miss it," she replied, lifting her beer in a mock toast. "Nice turnout."

He nodded, glancing around. "Yeah, despite recent events."

"Yeah, thats one way to put it." Gabriella's gaze softened, and for a moment, the noise around them seemed to fade.

"How are you doing?" Troy asked, lowering his voice. "After the doctor's appointment, I mean."

She hesitated, her smile dimming slightly, but she quickly masked it by taking a sip of her beer. "I'm fine, got it all figured out." she said lightly, but Troy could tell there was more she wasn't saying.

Before he could press further, she changed the subject. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you. What do you think about the upstairs bathroom? I've been tossing around some ideas for a remodel."

Troy blinked at the sudden shift but went along with it. "The bathroom?" he repeated, scratching the back of his neck. "It's fine, I guess. A bit dated, maybe. What do you have in mind?"

Gabriella's face lit up, and she launched into a description of her vision—wood accents, a clawfoot tub, brass fixtures. As she spoke, Troy couldn't help but watch her, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly.

He listened, nodding along, he was doing his best to pay attention to what she was saying but something was tugging at the back of his mind. When she was done with her bathroom presentation he rocked back on his heels. He was more than sure whatever it was she had plans for would be amazing. He'd liked every idea she had when it came to remodeling or updating the house. Things he never really thought about before she suddenly made him more aware of.

He just wondered if he could afford it. If he could manage it. He pushed the thoughts back. Not wanting to bring that up now.

"I think it sounds good," he nodded.

"Really?" Gabriella gave a little jump of excitement. "I swear its gonna be great, you're going love taking a long warm bath in that tub when I get done with it."

Not likely.

"Hey Troy," Kelsi shouted from across the way. "Come on over here and help me win this game of Beer pong."

Troy nodded, "Be right there," he shouted before turning back to Gabriella who gave him a look. "What?"

"Spending a lot of time with Kelsi these days," she said with a knowing smile.

He forced a smile back, yeah he spent his time with Kelsi, he also spent his time with a few other ladies. Nothing serious, nothing ever permanent. Just frail attempts at filling a void. And ever since she'd arrived on his doorstep, there had been no one in his bed.

"You got something you wanna say?" he asked pointedly.

"No," she answered a little caught off guard. "You're a big boy, you can do whatever you like with whomever you like."

At that he grunted. Yeah, clearly that was not the case. He pointed behind him at the grill "Enjoy the party, Blue's turkey burgers are by the grill wrapped in aluminum foil."

"You spoil him," she called back.

"Guys gotta stick together!"

Gabriella

Later that evening, as the party died down. Gabriella stood at the edge of the patio, nursing her beer as her eyes wandered through the crowd, eventually landing on Troy. He moved with ease among the guests, his laughter carrying over the hum of conversations. She couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight caught the faint sheen of sweat on his brow or how his easy smile seemed to brighten the entire space. It was effortless for him to command attention, yet he remained grounded, ensuring everyone felt welcomed and comfortable.

As she watched him, her mind began to whirl with a flurry of ideas. Scenes for her book started forming, one after another—conversations brimming with charm, descriptions of a leading man with strength and vulnerability, and scenarios that blended humor with heartfelt moments. Her writer's block, which had been a constant companion for weeks, seemed to lift as she observed him, her thoughts flooding with inspiration.

She should sneak away quietly and make her way upstairs to her laptop. Take advantage of the moment and really ride this feeling of inspiration. It would be crucial to meeting her deadline. For the first time in a long time she felt a burst of excitement inside her chest. That old spark of wonder and lighting coursing through her veins.

Hello imagination, where have you been?

Like magic her characters came to life in an instant—two people at a party, separated by a sea of friends and strangers. Their eyes would meet across the crowd, shy and uncertain at first, tinged with nervous energy. He'd think she was captivating in a way that caught him off guard; she'd find him irresistibly attractive, with a quiet strength that drew her in.

As if sensing her attention Troy looked over in her direction, and their eyes met instantly. The unexpected shock of it making Gabriella inhale sharply. She smiled politely her fingers tightening a little around her bottle. He offered her a small smile and she smiled back, forcing her eyes to look away. She glanced over at Sharpay who was distracted by a few people saying goodbye. Without another thought she glanced back over to Troy to find him staring at her still. His beer half way to his lips as he smirked at her knowingly.

That. His cocky playful nature. She wanted to capture it on the page.

She stood up straight and spun around. Her breath coming in swallow little gasp. She forced herself not to spin around again. Commanded herself not to look back and find him watching her again. She let out a sigh, she was being ridiculous. Troy Bolton was not watching her from across the room. He was not thinking about her later tonight alone in his kitchen, trapped between the counter and his body.

She closed her eyes for a moment as she took another deep breath. In her narrative, he'd be a loner, new to the neighborhood, yet somehow effortlessly fitting in, a man who didn't seek attention but naturally commanded it. His love interest would be recovering from a messy, painful relationship, hesitant to trust but craving a connection that felt real. Their story would unfold slowly, each encounter a careful step closer, a gradual build of tension and understanding. It would be a slow burn, the kind that lingered in the air long after the moment passed, each glance and word fueling something deeper.

And then, quite suddenly, Gabriella found herself viewing Troy in a different light. The easy camaraderie they shared took on a new dimension in her mind. What would that look like romantically? The notion buzzed in her head, curiosity kindling something more. She began imagining what it might feel like to explore those emotions with him, to see if the chemistry she could almost feel simmering beneath their friendship was real.

Gabriella's heart quickened as she thought about it, the lines between fiction and reality blurring. The idea of pursuing Troy, of exploring what that attraction might be between them, became more than just a plotline—it became a tantalizing possibility.

"You alright?" Sharpay asked quietly. "I'm gonna hitch a ride with Kelsi, we're heading over to Chad's for an after party."

Gabriella nodded, "Yeah, I'm alright. I was just thinking about the book." She shrugged nonchalantly. "My brain's running a mile minute."

"Really?" Sharpay said with a smile. "So thinking about Troy got the juices flowing again?"

Gabriella blinked, heat rushing to her cheeks as she glanced back to find Troy saying goodbye to a few more people. "I was just thinking," she protested, though the pink creeping up her neck betrayed her.

"Right," Sharpay drawled, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "You were also just...intensely observing?"

Gabriella laughed, shaking her head. "I was thinking about my book."

"Your book, huh?" Sharpay arched a brow. "Is that what they call it now?"

"Stop," Gabriella groaned, though she couldn't help but smile. "I really was thinking about my book. Plotting, you know?"

"Oh, I'm sure." Sharpay crossed her arms, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me guess—there's a tall, handsome leading man who looks suspiciously like a certain someone over there?"

Gabriella's eyes darted back to Troy for a brief second before she caught herself. "Maybe," she admitted, trying to keep her tone light.

Sharpay leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, when are you going to make a move? For...research purposes, of course."

Gabriella rolled her eyes, but her smile widened. "You're impossible."

"True," Sharpay grinned. "But seriously, Gabi, you've got that look. You're curious. Why not see where it goes?"

She laughed. "The garage. Jason. He's my roommate, he's also kinda my boss or really my business partner I should say."

"That's a long list of excuses you got." Sharpay teased. "And at the ready like you've been rehearsing them in front of the mirror."

Gabriella eyes narrowed. "If I didn't know better, I would swear that this was your masterplan."

Sharpay laughed and leaned in to give her a hug. "Call me in the morning," she sing songed on her way down the patio steps.

And then she saw him.

Troy was on his way up the steps, He looked effortlessly handsome in his worn jeans and a faded navy T-shirt, his hair slightly mussed from the heat of the grill. Gabriella felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of excitement and anxiety.

"Hey there Blue," Troy greeted as he patted Blue behind the ear, "Did you get those turkey burgers yet?" he said looking up at Gabriella with a smile.

"He did," she said. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he said standing upright and coming to stand beside her. "Now if you told me you were gonna help me clean up the yard … then maybe that would be a way to show your appreciation."

"Oh," Gabriella chuckled, "So the burgers were a trap?"

He wiggled his eyebrows in her direction and she felt a funny feeling in her chest. The things that man was capable of with that smile. She didn't know a lot about sexual variety. Her ex-husband had kept things very civil. But from what she heard through the grapevine, Troy was anything but civil. From some of the things she overheard, sex with Troy was nothing like the kind of sex she had with Jason.

And she was suddenly very curious.

Her mind began to narrate the images of her and Troy together, sweaty and twisty and panting for air. All in the name of research! Her readers needed to know, it was after all… what did Michael say?… it was what they pay for? She shivered and pushed the hair from her face.

He smelled good. Like barbeque and bonfire. The idea about being trapped between him and the kitchen counter snuck back into her mind and she wondered if Troy would ever be that bold. If he would treat her like a fragile thing that would break or if he would just man handle her.

And she was really in the mood to be handled.

God, had it really been a little over a year since she had sex?

"Troy?" she said a little nervously, "Can I ask you something a little crazy?"

He stared down at her, waiting, expecting more. And there was more to say but at the moment it was caught in her throat. It was just sex. It wasn't the man in question causing all these nerves, it was the act itself. The last man she had danced the horizontal with she'd married. Said man had since left her for one of her best friends and moved out of town.

And that was not the point of this. Because she wasn't thinking about her sex life with Jason. She was thinking about her own curiosity that hadn't gone away. This curiosity that started six months ago and was eating away at her.

For months, the thought had remained in the back of her head. When she'd found Jason and Martha together, he'd been doing her from behind over the arm of the couch. They'd been doing the nasty, super nasty-like. He'd had her hair fisted in his hand, forcing her spine into an uncomfortable looking arch. It had looked excessively dirty compared to their missionary sex. After the initial shock and hatred wore off a few months later, Gabriella wondered why she and Jason had never had sex like that. Had he thought she wouldn't have been open to the idea of it?

"Well, here I am. At your service," Troy's voice caught her attention.

That was a loaded statement if she ever heard one. She swallowed and fumbled around trying to find a polite way to ask him for some inspirational dirty-ish sex. She was pretty sure there wasn't one. "I need some help."

He didn't skip a beat. "I'm all yours, doll, ask away."

Gabriella took a deep breath as she looked up at him and put a little distance between them so she could stand on her own two feet. People around them were getting ready to leave and the party was almost over. In few moments they would be alone.

"Never known you to be so quiet," he teased.

"I think I'm ready to have sex again." Gabriella said quietly, making sure that only he could hear her.

He watched her for a long moment, and finally he chuckled. "How drunk are you?"

He'd just given her an out.. She could laugh it off, pretend this was just her being her quirky self, and move on. But no. She didn't want out. Not this time.

"I'm not that drunk."

His smirk dropped. "Uh-huh. And why are you telling me this?"

"Because… I'd prefer if the sex was with you." She straightened her shoulders.

His mouth opened, then shut again as if recalibrating. His arms dropped to his sides. "Gabriella, what is this really about?"

She shrugged, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... want to. I want to know what it's like."

His jaw tensed, his gaze narrowing. The warning signs of rejection flashed in her mind, but she forged ahead.

"It just occurred to me that I don't know what kind of ice cream I like. And I've only ever really had vanilla," she winced.

This was a horrible way to start this conversation.

"Ice cream?" He seemed confused.

"Yeah, like different kinds of sex." She pushed on, painfully. "I'm tired of plain vanilla-"

"Hey, great barbecue, guys!" Mr. Paterson hollered from the gate, a beer still in hand. "Troy, I'll call you about that tractor tomorrow, yeah?"

Troy raised a hand to wave. "Sure thing."

His eyes never left Gabriella. "So... vanilla?"

She flushed but pushed forward. "We're friends, right? And you're... experienced."

His brows shot up. "Experienced?"

"Gabriella, darling!" Mrs. Baker waddled over, cradling her signature empty potato salad bowl. "So sorry to hear about Jason and that... other woman leaving town. You're better off! Such a scandal!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Baker," Gabriella mumbled, wishing the earth would swallow her whole. Troy, meanwhile, looked like he was contemplating his own escape plan.

"I mean," Gabriella continued when the coast was clear, "we've been living together for months. We already know each other very well and I trust you so an encounter like this is-"

"Gabriella!" An older woman swooped in, hugging her with the force of a linebacker. "You look amazing! I was just telling my son about your relationship status! I'll give him your number!"

"Sure... okay." Gabriella gave Troy a weak smile as the woman patted his chest like he was some kind of good-luck charm before retreating into the night.

Troy sighed, rubbing his temples. "Encounter?" he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief. "What is this, the X-Files? Okay I know I asked for your help with clean up but right now I'm thinking maybe you should just go to bed."

Just as he was about to step around her she stopped him again. "I'm serious!" Gabriella placed a hand on his arm. "I've never really had anything exciting happen in the bedroom department. Not that it was awful but it was always the same. You know? Like the same rub over my hip, stroke down my thigh, a minute later, and it was over. I just want to try something different."

"I am not listening to this," Troy growled, ushering her inside. Blue trotted faithfully behind them, his tail wagging like this was the best conversation ever.

Gabriella stopped in the entryway, emboldened by the blast of air conditioning on her back.

"I'm not saying this right, it's been a really long time, which is why I'm even more confident about it being you. This is a level of embarrassment that should stay between us."

Troy eyes met hers, his hands balled into fists, his expression stormy. "So what? You want me to come running the next time you shave your legs and hop out of the shower? You'll just call me upstairs?"

She squirmed. "I hadn't worked out all details yet."

"It's more than details," Troy narrowed his gaze. "It sounds like you want me to perform some kind of sexual bucket list."

"Yes!" she said, throwing her arms up."Exactly! See? You get it!"

His face twisted in exasperation. "Oh my God, Gabriella."

Blue barked, clearly voting in favor of her plan.

"You can't just wake up and decide to have sex with me."

"I didn't." The words snapped out harder than she wanted, but she couldn't help it. He'd struck a nerve. Sure, she may have decided to jump his bones only a few moments ago but it wasn't like the thought had just occurred to her. She just never took it seriously before. "Oh come on, isn't this every guy's dream? To have a woman ready and willing at anytime?"

"No. Not like this." He looked downright angry.

"You'd have a woman at your beck and call. Anytime, anywhere," she teased playfully trying to get a little laugh out of him and lighten the mood, but he wasn't smiling. It hit her then. He already has that. She sobered. "Oh. You're not into me that way."

"Gabriella."

She shook her head and turned away from him, blinking away ridiculous tears. Why hadn't she thought of the possibility that he wouldn't want her. Oh lord, now she really wished she'd taken the out. She was three steps into the kitchen when he pulled her back.

"Hey, wait a minute," he said in a hushed tone.

"It's fine. This really did just come out of nowhere. I didn't even consider the fact that you don't think of me in that way."

"I-"

Just then three children came bounding down the stairs and around the bend cutting Troy off as he stepped aside and made room for them to leave. The interruption, while brief, gave her the chance to flee but Troy was on her in an instant.

"Gabriella."

"Just forget it."

This was so stupid.

The rejection hit her like a wave, crashing through the fragile confidence she had mustered. Doubts flooded her mind, insecurities she had fought to suppress rising to the surface. Of course, he wouldn't be interested, she thought bitterly. Why would he want someone like me? Her mind raced through a litany of perceived flaws: the scars of her failed marriage, the moments of self-doubt, the times she felt less than enough.

She had just made it upstairs and wrapped her hand around the door knob. Troy's hands gripped her sides and spun her around so her back was to the door and then for good measure he held the door shut, his body leaning over her, holding her there so she had no way to run off on him again. He was like a winter coat and she was just the cold lonely body beneath it. And boy was she warming up.

His eyes came down seeming to stop on her lips and linger there as they both caught their breath. He'd never been this close before, not like this. Not with this heat between them. It was enough to make her lightheaded.

"God damn it woman," he said quietly. "You've never made a move on me before or looked at me like that." He said as he eyed her with suspicion. "You can't just throw something at me like this and expect me to jump on it. Especially with people around."

She winced and dropped her head back. He was right. She'd thrown this at him out of nowhere. They had been friends for a long time. He had a point. "I'm sorry."

"Can we take a night to think about this, maybe talk about it in the morning?"

Her eyes popped open. So he was interested.

"You want to think about it?"

"Well, yeah. If the offer doesn't like, expire at midnight?" his eyes shifted slightly, his gaze taking in her heaving chest.

"And if it did?" she whispered.

He inhaled slowly as he leaned in a little closer, their bodies a little more flushed together. "Does it?" he whispered, reaching a hand down so he could gather the fabric of her dress until the tips of his finger rested on her bare thigh.

The sparks set off by just that touch. She bit down on her bottom lip, holy shit.

"It could," she mumbled.

His entire chest seemed to vibrate on a groan and his warm callous hand shifted behind her thighs. His grip on her instant. Before she knew it she inhaled sharply as he shifted and picked her up with a force she hadn't expected and pressed her deeper into the door. Her sex was brushed against his erection and her hand gripped his shirt.

Oh yeah, this was new. They had never done this before. And why the hell not? This was hot!

Troy's breath fanned her neck as he leaned in close. His invasion of her personal space was more than welcomed. She'd throw a how damn parade in his honor. Her legs interlocked at her ankles behind him. Her grip coming up and over his shoulders. His broad shoulders were solid and strong under her touch.

"How quiet can you be?" he said in a low whisper.

Oh. Shit.

She contemplated the thought and just as she was about to hang on tight, Blue's bark echoed in the empty hallway. The sudden sound pulled both of them a little more off the edge of whatever this was.

"Damn it, Blue." She hissed under her breath.

"I think he's right. We should talk about this in the morning, when we're alone."

Right. That was sensible. Right?

"Till the morning then," she nodded, her mouth suddenly dry as she watched him slowly let her back down. He took a deep breath and took a few steps back, Blue who had been sitting impatiently at their side stood up and came to the door as Gabriella fumbled behind her and opened it. Her gaze was unable to leave him.

"Get some sleep," he nodded.

She stepped back into her room and shut the door.

Troy.

Troy crossed the living room into the kitchen and jerked open the fridge. Cool air blasted his hot body, and he grabbed a chilled bottle of beer. Not for drinking, yet. This bottle was to put on his neck. The sweat on the glass no doubt sizzled to steam at the touch of his flaming hot skin.

Sex with Gabriella.

Jesus.

He twisted off the cap and drank, pulling hard at the beer and chugged until nothing was left. He sat the empty bottle down. It clanked hard on the countertop, and sound should have served as a final no. Instead it rang out more like a pistol firing off the start of the race. The finish line being his roommate's bedroom doorway. He stood there for a long moment, waiting for the drink to ease through his blood and for the buzz to pull him from the edge.

Sex with Gabriella. Sex with Jason's Gabriella. He closed his eyes. No. Not Jason's Gabriella. Not anymore.

Troy took a breath and continued working at talking himself out of it. A few moments of fun. Catch a bit of ass and apparently, possibly, spank some of it too. Not how he wanted Gabriella Montez after all these years. She was supposed to be a slow and torturous unwrapping. Hours spent learning each soft and creamy caramel inch of her skin. Time taken to see what set her off and what made her beg and ache for more.

He groaned and shook his head.

He refused to change what he wanted from her, no matter how easy it would be to give into her request. And that had been insane too easy. He barely had control of himself up there. But no. He wasn't her rebound or stepping stone to test the waters of the shallow end of the dating pool. No matter how tempting she was, he wouldn't give in and be used. He was a man with a few morals and ethics, or whatever people called them.

Bottom line: the possibility of forever was the only way he'd take Gabriella.

He squeezed the counter but the smooth edges did nothing to hold him there. Everything he wanted to taste and touch waited for him upstairs.

The half bathroom door down the hall opened up and a friendly neighbor from three houses down walked by.

"Gonna head on out. Thanks for having us."

Troy nodded and waved. Hoping like hell that the man hadn't overheard what almost happened against Gabriella's bedroom door.

Fuck.

He had been so close to the edge. It would have been so easy to pull her panties to the side and slide right inside her god damn folds.

Shit.

He needed to go clean up the yard, needed to pick up trash and straighten up the house. Get his mind off what was currently going on. Keep his mind as far away from the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am quickie request he'd just been given.

Who the fuck even does that?

Gabriella. Apparently.

His balls pulled in tight and his cock twitched at the thought of her damp and plastered hair against her neck. Her pouty lips would be parted and her head thrown back. Her firm round tits would bounce in his face nicely while she sat on his lap.

Troy chucked another empty beer bottle into the bag and let his mind wander for another second before reeling it back in. He told himself it was the party, the late hour, or maybe just the hum of a too-familiar routine that had him overthinking. But no, it was her. She asked him for sex.

He grabbed another empty bottle, swirling the last drops of beer around before tossing it into the bag. She wanted sex from him. Just like that. As if it could be some casual, detached thing. She might believe it could happen, but he knew better. He was already attached—too attached. He wasn't proud of how often he thought about her when she wasn't looking, how often he noticed the small things: the curve of her smile, the way she pushed her hair behind her ear, the faint floral scent that lingered in a room after she left.

Her divorce had only been finalized four months ago. No matter how long she'd been living here, this wasn't the right time. She deserved more than being someone's rebound, and he deserved more than being a rebound.

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. This was Gabriella—his friend, his crush, his constant for all these months. He'd do anything she asked, but not this. Not like this. He had to figure out a way to let her down easy. But the way she looked at him tonight, with that spark of determination in her eyes, made it clear: escaping this conversation wasn't going to be easy.

Gabriella

The next morning, Gabriella lay sprawled across her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as Brad Paisley's voice filled the room with tales of a love long gone. Sleep had eluded her entirely. Restlessness drove her from one position to another until she finally gave up on the idea and propped herself up, pulling her laptop onto her lap. The glow of the screen illuminated her face, her gaze narrowing as she scrutinized the latest paragraph she had written, the words still fresh in her mind from a long, sleepless night.

Dressed in a worn rock band t-shirt that hung loosely over her frame and a pair of boy shorts, her hair was piled haphazardly into a lopsided bun. She leaned over to grab her notepad from the bedside table, quickly jotting down a plot point that had suddenly sparked to life. The pen raced across the paper, capturing ideas before they slipped away into the haze of exhaustion.

Her mind had been a whirlwind all night, an endless stream of creativity flowing through her. She could feel the pulse of a new world taking shape, the foundation of a story being laid brick by brick. Characters once faint outlines in her imagination now stood vividly before her, rich with development and personality, each interaction between them a delicate dance of wit and charm.

A soft giggle escaped her lips as she kicked her feet, delighted by the easy banter she had crafted between her leading characters. The dialogue felt natural, alive, the kind of back-and-forth that made her heart flutter. Each word they exchanged brought her closer to the core of her story, a romance she was beginning to see in a new light. The energy was intoxicating, driving her forward, her fingers itching to bring more to life, to explore every nuance of the world she was building.

There was no time for sleep when she was caught in the throes of creation, her characters whispering in her ear, urging her to keep going, to breathe life into their world. It was moments like these that reminded her why she loved writing, the thrill of discovery, the joy of bringing something intangible into existence.

Blue, ever loyal, groaned from his position at her feet but didn't bother moving.

"Blue," she sighed, scratching his head with her toes, "you have no clue how big this is! It's huge! Micheal's gonna lose his mind."

Just then, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she reached for her phone, hitting pause. "Come in!"

The door creaked open, and Troy's head appeared. "You decent? Sober?"

"Yeah," she replied, pulling herself into a more upright position.

"Alright." He stepped inside, his gaze flicking around her room, taking in the Post-it notes scattered across her walls like a crime scene. "What are you doing?"

"Writing an ad for the garage," she lied smoothly, tapping her pen against the notepad. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you're alive. It's almost noon, and you haven't eaten."

She sighed inwardly, the weight of her deception pressing down harder. Lying to Troy about her writing was getting harder. It had been easier when they hadn't shared a roof. Jason was barely around when she went on a writing bringe and she wasn't confined to one room. When she lived with Jason she wrote anywhere she could sit quietly. Jason never minded it. He always lived around her.

Troy was different that way. They lived more together as roommates than she lived with her own husband.

But the thought of Troy discovering the truth? Absolutely mortifying. Yes, she had some success—her books consistently graced the bestseller lists and there was a movie adaptation for Heart Under the Hood, for crying out loud. But they weren't exactly literary masterpieces. They were romance novels, the kind you impulsively grabbed in the checkout line, adorned with covers of shirtless men and women in flowing dresses. Light, escapist, shamelessly entertaining fluff.

Her readers adored her. They sent heartfelt letters, claiming her stories had changed their lives, reignited their hope, and rekindled their belief in love. But if only they knew the reality: she felt like a fraud. Someone who knew nothing about real romance, love, or the kind of searing passion she so vividly described in her books. It was only a matter of time before people lost interest in her books. It could happen at any moment.

Her gaze drifted back to Troy, who now leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with that easy, effortless confidence. The way his shirt clung just right to his broad shoulders only served to deepen her internal turmoil. Here she was, writing about love and passion, while feeling completely unqualified to even begin understanding it herself.

"Well, it's morning?" she shrugged, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "What's the verdict?"

His mouth fell open slightly, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "Did you even sleep last night?"

"I don't see the relevance." She said closing her laptop and putting her things to the side. "You said you needed time to think about it. It's been time."

"What brought all this on anyway?"

She shrugged as she climbed out of bed, her bones arching as she rolled her shoulders. "I don't know the opportunity, availability, proximity, pick one."

His eyes were watching her closely as she moved. "You're serious about this."

"Very serious," she offered, lifting her reading glasses up and placing them on top of her head. She moved past him to the bathroom where she began to prep her toothbrush.

"And this has nothing to do with the doctor's appointment yesterday?" he asked.

"No," she said before making quick work of brushing her teeth. Technically that wasn't a lie, just a slight bend of the truth.

"Nothing to do about Jason leaving town or the divorce?"

"Nothing."

He leaned his body against the door frame as he watched her move about her routine. Something he'd done before seeing how they shared an upstairs bathroom. Writing aside, living with him had not been that hard of a transition. Once she'd come up for air and actually began to give a crap about sharing a space with another man so polar opposite of her ex-husband she found it easy to let her guard down around him.

"Would you tell me if it was?"

She patted her face dry with a towel and gave her freshened up appearance a quick once over. "Troy, I need you to relax. I didn't ask you for a kidney, I asked you for an orgasm." She hung the towel back up over the hook and made her way out of the bathroom.

Troy

Troy stood frozen for a moment, processing Gabriella's bluntness. Her request had thrown him for a loop, and now she was doubling down with her usual mix of stubbornness and charm.

The sight of her walking away from him in those tight little boy shorts she loved to wear so much reminded his palms of just how good it felt to have them along the backside of her thighs the night before.

It was taking a lot of restraint not pull her into him and feel her body against his like he had last night. Troy raised a brow and turned to glance at Blue, who was now stretching and groaning his way off the bed. "Can you believe this?" he muttered. Blue looked up at him, gave a knowing nod-at least in Troy's imagination-and ambled after Gabriella.

Letting out a frustrated breath, Troy followed them downstairs, each step tightening the knot in his chest. He couldn't just dismiss what she was asking, but he also couldn't just give in to her without making her understand the implications.

"Gabi, maybe we need to slow down here," he started as he entered the kitchen.

"Slow down?" Gabriella scoffed, pulling open the refrigerator door. "You haven't even touched me."

"I know, but-"

"But what?" She grabbed the milk and turned to face him, her expression knowing. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Troy sighed, reaching into a nearby cabinet for the cereal and setting the box down in front of her.

"What you're asking for is a little... out there. I think if we're gonna do this, there needs to be some ground rules."

"Ground rules?" Gabriella echoed, grabbing a bowl and for the cereal. "What, do I have to cut my hair or something?"

Troy chuckled despite himself. "No. Infact, first rule: no haircuts."

Her smirk deepened as she poured the cereal, clearly amused. "Alright, I think I can manage that one."

"Second rule," he said, handing her a spoon, "We need to go on five dates."

"What?" She jerked back, her hands slamming onto the counter. "I don't want to date you."

"Call it what you want," Troy said calmly, his hand resting on his chest, "but I'm not some random hookup, Gabi. If we're doing this, I call the shots. No sex until we've had five... let's call them 'whatevers' If we make it through that, then maybe."

"Maybe?" Gabriella's voice climbed an octave as she began to pour the milk. "I don't want 'whatevers, I just want-"

"I know what you want," Troy interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "We don't really know each other like that. And I need to make sure you know what you're asking for. This 'just sex' thing? It never works. There's always strings, Gabi. Whether you admit it or not."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Oh yeah? And what makes you such an expert?"

"Because I've been here before, and more recently might I add." he said quietly, his gaze locking onto hers. "And because I know you. You think you can keep this casual, but you're not built like that."

Gabriella narrowed her eyes, leaning forward over the counter. "So what if I'm different? What if I can handle it?"

Troy leaned in too, his voice soft but steady. "And what if I told you I wanted more?"

The silence hung heavy between them, her wide eyes betraying the shock she was trying to mask. She opened her mouth, then closed it, the words clearly escaping her.

Troy stood straight, stepping back to give her space. "Take your time to think about that, Gabi. Because if we go there... there's no going back. So we need to make sure we're both on the same page."

"Oh yeah," she said with raised brow, "What page is that?"

"Whatever you want this page to be," Troy with a long sigh.

"How about a page that repeats as often as we like, without strings?"

"There's always going to be strings," Troy shifted his weight, "You're a girl. Sex always means more to you, even if you don't admit it."

"But this is different."

"Really," Troy said with a frown, "Do you suddenly have a penis where your vagina was?"

Gabriella took a moment to think about it, then narrowed her eyes."Nope, no penis."

"Then it's no different."

Gabriella

Gabriella pouted as she took the spoon and leaned down so her forearms were laid flat on the table, "Well, I think you're wrong about not knowing each other, we know each other plenty."

Troy leaned down as well, dipping his own spoon into the same bowl, "Sex is different Gabi."

Gabriella rolled her eyes as she dipped her spoon into the bowl. "I know it's different but it's not crazy, you either want to have sex with me or you don't."

There was a pause before he responded. "I do,"

"Then?" She stood up straighter. Eyeing him curiously. Troy wasn't a relationship kind of guy. As long as she had known him he'd been pretty open about that detail in his life. Some of the women in town labeled him as a commitment-phobe, and a known player. That's what made all of this so weird, she thought for sure he would be all about this kind of plan.

And what if I told you I wanted more?

His earlier statement echoed in her mind, come to think of it, she really hadn't noticed a revolving door of women coming in and out of the house as of late. Was that because she was here? Did he feel uncomfortable flaunting that lifestyle in front of her? Was he tired of the lifestyle? Did he actually want to settle down?

What shit timing for both of them?

"I think we could benefit from easing into this. It would be weird if we just went for it." Troy said pointedly. "What if you change your mind? What if living here makes you uncomfortable? What if you find out that what you actually want is a boyfriend, you know, one that takes you to dinner and movies and buys you flowers?"

"We go to the movies and eat together all the time, honestly what makes this any different from that."

"Foreplay," he said offhandedly.

"You need five dates for foreplay?"

Troy huffed. "I need five minutes, you're going to need five dates."

"How are you so sure I'm not ready to go right here, right now on this table?" she said standing up straight and staring at him dead on.

"Gabriella, I'm not the greatest catch." Troy leaned forward scooping up a spoonful of cereal and shoveling it into his mouth. Once he swallowed he continued, "I'm sure you've heard how I am…was with women."

She shook her head. "What you do and whoever you do it with isn't any of my business."

"And that's what I like about you. You're always ready to accept people for who they are. I'm no saint. And I know I've ah… been with a lot of women." He took one of her hands in his, "What I'm trying to say is I want to try dating you… exclusively."

He might as well have poured ice water down her back. She hadn't expected that. Sex, hell yeah. But dating? Exclusively? No way. She didn't want to date. Dating would only lead to emotions she didn't have time for. It also led to heartbreak. Something she wouldn't allow, especially after the way her last relationship ended. She cleared her throat and attempted to pull her hand from his, but he held firm.

"I'm just asking for five dates."

Never in a million years would she have expected this notorious commitment-phobe to want to date her exclusively. "This is crazy."

"Crazier than you asking me for sex?"

Gabriella stared at him with an urge to argue and then let out a sigh, he was right. The truth was she'd been without sex for so long it was probably going to be awkward. Dating would help her ease into the idea. Help shift her view and expectations for their relationship. And if she did end up changing her mind - unlikely - but if she did, no harm done. "Fine, what about the other stuff?"

"What other stuff?" Troy eyed her curiously.

Gabriella shrugged as she dipped her spoon into the bowl coming back into her leaning position.

"Gabi, if you can't say it, we shouldn't even be talking about this."

Gabriella inwardly groaned, he was right. Again. "Kissing."

"You want to kiss?" Troy asked, sounding a little interested.

"Well yeah," Gabriella murmured looking up at him and lifting her spoon to her lips, "kissing is nice, I used to like it. I'm not really a fan of tongue but I'd try it. I mean, I'm not going to lie. I'm not sure I understand the sudden urge to prove you can be in a relationship without sex when I'm bluntly offering you sex without one, but to each his own. We'll do it, five dates and I will get what I want."

"Right," he said softly.

"But that wouldn't be much different from what we already have. We'd simply be friends who don't have sex with each other, let alone anyone else."

He frowned.

She lifted a finger, a point ready to be made. "You know, intimacy and affection are important in a relationship and while I understand what you're getting at, I need to have a certain level of affection," she said with a grin, "and we can have that now … without sex."

Troy narrowed his gaze. "How?"

"Kissing," she grinned.

Troy brows lifted as if he hadn't seen that coming, "Oh." He looked away for a second before letting out a breath. "I mean we can, I mean its fine," Troy winced as he looked at the cereal bowl. "Kissing is good."

"Kissing is very good." She was beginning to like how the conversation was turning out after all. A flutter of butterflies took off in her abdomen. Although she did miss sex, she'd missed kissing and cuddling even more.

Sex was nice, but in all honesty, if she didn't own a vibrator, she never would have known what it was like to make your eyes roll back and your body surge with ecstasy. Now that she really thought about it, she'd very much like to take Troy up on his exclusive dating, no sex relationship. It sounded safe and fun, and besides he'd agreed to kissing, but he never specified exactly where those kisses could be placed.

And she could think of a few provocative places she'd love to kiss Troy. After that, he probably wouldn't last more than a week with his no-sex, kissing-only rule. She'd have her sex buddy and still be able to remain emotionally detached. "Do we have to wait?"

"Does it have to be right this second?" Troy countered standing up right.

Gabriella shrugged "You're the one making the ground rules?" she said pointedly.

"For the well-being and protection of our friendship."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Rule three, no more relationship talk."

Troy raised a brow, "You really just want a fling, don't you?"

"Yes," she said quietly, "I think I've had it up to here with emotional men and their backstabbing bullshit."

Troy watched her carefully, "Why not go to the bar and just pick someone up? Why me?"

"You're kidding. In a town with a population of 764 people do you really think my odds of finding someone, who I won't ever see again, is of high value?" Gabriella let out a sigh as she lifted another spoonful of cereal, "I'm sick of being the town gossip. At least this way I get some bit of privacy."

"Right," Troy muttered as he reached into the bowl for another spoonful. He chewed quietly for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "So are you expecting to move out or something? I mean unless you have other arrangements for a place to live, work, and practically mooch, then wouldn't I be a big fat wrench in your plan of animosity?"

"No. Because there's no one on the planet I trust more than I trust you, you're an overall good guy, you love Blue and look great without a shirt," she listed causally.

"Seriously?" he added with disbelief.

Gabriella looked up at him, "this is really weird." Gabriella tossed her spoon into the sink with a loud clunk.

"How so?"

"Because I thought this would be really natural and instead I feel like we should sign a contract," she said, wiping her hands on her shorts.

"You're right. This isn't my most romantic moment." He sent her a sexy smile that had her toes curling. "To be honest you really didn't give me much of a choice."

"To be honest if I had you would have chickened out," she said as she made her way out of the kitchen.

Troy

"Cute. You got jokes," he called after her as he watched her race back up the stairs to her bedroom. Troy looked down at the bowl of milk in front of him. "Guess I'll clean up?"

As if to answer him, Blue let out a sigh as he shifted his shout from one paw to the other, his brown eyes looking up at Troy with adoration.

Shaking his head he went about putting the milk back in the fridge and cereal back in the cabinet. If he was going to get his shot at forever with Gabriella he was going to have to do some fancy footwork and quick. Her mind was set. And he'd been around her long enough to know what when she set her mind to something there was no convincing her otherwise. He had the sea green kitchen cabinets to prove it.

He just needed some time to set her off balance, pull the rug out from under her slowly enough so she wouldn't notice it was happening. He had to find some way to make Gabriella fall in love with him and he had to do it in five "Whatever's."

A few moments later when Troy had finished drinking the milk from the bowl in his usual spot by the sink the sound of Gabriella footsteps came bounding down the stairs and both he and Blue looked up.

"I gotta meet up with Sharpay," she said, filling the kitchen with the smells of perfume. Troy watched her quietly as she ran from one end of the kitchen for keys to the other end for her wallet and back again for Blue's on the go dish. She was a hurricane of a woman, and she'd been wrecking his sense of balance since the first night he'd seen her. Soaked to the bone in that wet rolling stones t-shirt, her blue jeans practically painted onto her skin.

With each passing she made he watched her white tank top bounce around over the swell of her breast, her tight blue jeans shorts with the ripped pocket shift against her behind and those stubborn little strands that weren't long enough to stay in her ponytail band whip back and forth. On the fourth time she was about to blow past him, he reached out and hauled her into his chest, his mouth on hers before his arms were around her.

The kiss was urgent. Physical. All-encompassing.

His hands held her to him and for the first time ever in forever he felt like all the pieces of his world clicked into place. Like this was the most natural thing he'd ever done. The way she came to him without hesitation, the way she stopped moving and just let herself crash into him, her chaos and chatter stopped. She relaxed into him, her body melting against him in full surrender.

She was smiling into his kiss. And for a moment he wasn't really sure if this was his idea or hers. Then she swooned against him and he decided he didn't care. As long as she was right here in his arms with her own wrapped around his neck and holding onto like she was afraid she might fly away at any moment. Her tongue slid into his mouth and he questioned her earlier statement about not liking tongue, because suddenly he was exploring the inside her mouth and relishing in the feel of her eager reciprocation.

He moved forward, forcing her backwards until she was up against the kitchen island. His hands roaming over her backside until he couldn't resist it anymore. He lifted her up, setting her down right where they had just been sharing a bowl of cereal. Instantly her legs wrapped around his torso pulling him in. His lips never leaving hers, tasting and teasing her relentlessly.

She moaned into his lips and he pulled away for a second, "Damn it Gabi," he growled his hands coming up to her face cupping her cheeks as he went in again for more, unable to help himself. It had been torture, exisiting in a world without this. Without her, without being able to kiss her like this. Like she was his. Like she belonged to him. The sound of their heavy breathing filling the kitchen. Her hands shifting into his hair, her chest arching into him.

He inhaled sharply, knowing he was going to have to pull away from her soon. Even if everything inside him didn't want to let her go. But the taste of her sugary sweet lips and the smell of her floral perfume was clouding his ability to think of anything else.

Then her phone rang and like a jolt of reality he pulled away from her. Both of them panting and dazed for a moment as they watched each other.

"Wow," she whispered.

Troy let out a small agreement as he tried to catch his own breath, he didn't intend on taking the kiss that far. If it hadn't been for her cell phone he wasn't really sure how far he would have taken it. But it was surprisingly easy to get lost in her. She was as sweet as melting ice cream on a hot summer day, and tasted even better. He wanted to lick her up, taste every inch of her until he knew every intimate spot like the back of his hand.

Shit.

Without thinking about it Troy reached out and took her hands helping her down off the counter and allowing her to hold onto him for a moment longer as she got steady on her feet.

"Thank you," she said quietly looking up at him. Without warning she stood on her toes and kissed him one last time.

The surprise of it catching him off guard and testing his restraint. Did she even know how dangerously close he was to the edge? How close he was to hauling her back into him and taking her upstairs.

She smirked.

And he growled.

"We'll do some more of that later."

"No we won't," Troy said with a small frown, "It's probably for the best if we pace ourselves."

"I run fast," Gabriella said, moving away from him as she walked backwards. "Unless you're scared?"

"I'm not scared," Troy glared at her. He was terrified.

"Of course not, I'll see you for dinner tonight," she said motioning for Blue to follow.

"No you won't."

"It's a date." she called back as she made her way to the front door.

"No it's not."

She spun around as she opened the front door letting Blue out first. "Think of me today, I'll definitely be thinking of you," her eyes did a once over and she bit down on her bottom lip. "and I can tell you, you won't be wearing anything more than my naked body," she teased before shutting the door behind her.

Troy gripped the counter top letting out a string of curses as he fought his inner self to stay put and not chase after her. He thought hard about their kiss. He even tried harder not to think about the fact that he could be out the door, sweeping her up and over his shoulders in a minute. He could run her up the stairs and have her naked and in his bed in under two. The harder he thought, the harder he became.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Gabriella

Gabriella and Blue sat in the sweltering afternoon sun by her truck, her excitement barely contained as she waited for Sharpay to finish her shift. The café doors swung open, and Sharpay stepped out, balancing a dish of water for Blue. She was all smiles, as usual—her signature cheerfulness a stark contrast to the dull, gray uniform she wore. Sharpay had been working at the café for years, and her bubbly personality had made her a favorite among the regulars. She also happened to be head over heels for her boss, Zeke, a quiet, charming man who, despite his best efforts to maintain a professional demeanor, couldn't quite hide the way his cheeks flushed whenever Sharpay turned on her charm.

It was admirable, Sharpay's romantic optimism. She admired how her friend saw potential in every small gesture, every lingering glance. Zeke and Sharpay felt like a fairy tale waiting to happen. The romantic in Gabriella sighed at the thought, picturing them walking down the aisle, all smiles and happy tears. But the newly-minted cynic in her, hardened by her own experiences, pouted a little at the thought.

Why did their potential happiness poke at her own insecurities?

"You look about ready to burst," Sharpay teased, setting the water dish down for Blue, who eagerly lapped it up. She straightened up, eyeing Gabriella with a knowing smirk. "So, how was last night?"

Gabriella's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I've spent the last couple of months racking my brain for ideas, and then, bam!" She clapped her hands together, a grin splitting her face. "I couldn't sleep at all last night!"

"Because of Troy?" Sharpay's smirk deepened, eyebrows raised.

Gabriella laughed, shaking her head. "Because of the story! It was incredible—everything just fell into place."

Sharpay tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "So you were able to fix it?"

"I stayed up rewriting the first five chapters!" Gabriella's hands clapped together again, her excitement infectious.

Sharpay cocked a hip, clearly enjoying the girl talk. "That's great! But seriously, what happened between you and Troy?"

Gabriella bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to take over her face. "Not a whole lot, really," she admitted, though the glint in her eyes told a different story. "But, what did happened was pretty awesome."

Sharpay's grin widened, and she leaned in conspiratorially. "Details, please!"

Gabriella blushed, the memory of the kiss replaying in her mind like a film reel. "It was… just electric. I almost thought it was a fluke at first, but then it happened again, and it was just as incredible."

"What happened?" Sharpay squealed, clapping her hands.

"He kissed me." Gabriella said leaning in as to not be overheard. "And it was really… something else. I mean, I don't know, it was just the way he did it." She let out a sigh as she dropped her shoulder at the memory of his hands wrapped around her waist. His lips crashing down over hers.

"Well, don't keep secrets, how did he do it?" Sharpay laughed.

God, as if she could explain it. Or give it the justice it deserved. She'd only read about kisses like that in books. Only really described kisses like that in books. And that kiss had been better than anything she'd ever written down on the page. "I don't know, he just grabbed me and pulled me into him like it was a completely normal thing to do and before I could even register it his lips were on me."

"I knew it," Sharpay stomped her foot. "You two have chemistry."

"We have something alright," Gabriella let out a laugh. "I haven't been kissed like that in years." Gabriella blushed. "Maybe even ever. It was so animalistic."

Sharpay gasped, "I knew it! You've got it bad, don't you?"

Gabriella smiled, "Slow down there. He's a good kisser, and my curiosity about his other skills are just that, curiosity."

Sharpay gave her a playful nudge. "Sounds like someone's not just inspired about her book but maybe for something a little more personal?"

Gabriella sighed, "Yeah, well that's not even all of it."

Sharpay leaned back in surprise, "there's more?"

"He wants to go on five dates before we do anything else."

"And what exactly is anything else?"

Gabriella made a face. "He doesn't want to have sex until he knows my mind is made up."

"And is it?"

Gabriella let out a sigh as she thought about that kiss and all the bits of her body that were still vibrating and tingling. "For the first time in a long time I finally want to move on."

"Well, then" Sharpay reached for her arm. " We gotta head on over to Taylor's."

"What for?"

"Lingerie." Sharpay scolded. "Listen, whatever is going on between you two, one thing you won't regret is being ready for it."

Gabriella dug her heels in as Sharpay tried to drag her down the street. "I don't know about that."

"Well, I do." Sharpay argued. "You're a romance writer. You're supposed to be into that sort of frippery."

"Frippery?"

"You know, romance. Lacey things." Sharpay waved her hand dismissively as she checked her watch, "Come on I only have an hour lunch."

Filled with uncertainty she followed Sharpay down the street. Blue on their heels as they made there way over to Taylor's little boutique. Gabriella wasn't sure she needed lacy things, but she could definitely use a little romance to inspire her though the next few chapters. However she didn't need romance for whatever was happening between her and Troy. Because that was a romance free zone.

But that kiss…

Another blush came over her cheeks as she approached Taylor's. She looked down at Blue who stopped right at the door and sat down in the shade offered by the overhead canopy.

"You be a good boy now," Gabriella called out as she blew him a kiss.

"Honestly you treat that dog like he's your boyfriend," Sharpay said, placing her hands on her hips.

Gabriella shrugged, "You know the old saying the more boys I meet, the more I like my dog."

"Well, well, well," Taylor's voice chimed as she came out from the back room. She was a dark skinned beauty, with butterfly braids falling beautifly down her shoulders. "What do we have here?" Taylor greeted them with a smile as she came out from a back room carrying a box filled with frilly light blue lace.

"We need something meant for seducing." Sharpay started. "And I mean, something so hot that the hens are laying hard-boiled eggs."

"Oh my god," Gabriella muttered under her breath as did a quick scan of the store and noting that it was empty. She was trying to avoid becoming gossip and yet here they were about to make her sex life front page news for all of Taylor's boutique, she looked back out towards the front where Blue was now laying down for a snooze.

"Seducing?" Taylor teased, "Zeke finally made a move?"

"He wishes." Sharpay laughed as she came up to the counter and hoisted herself up. "We're actually here for her. And wait till you get a load of this one?" Sharpay said while pulling the new box of goods over for inspection, "Go on Gabi, tell her all about your kinky new lifestyle."

Gabriella crossed her arms as she placed a hand on her hip and shook her head, "It's supposed to be just sex," Gabriella clarified as she noticed a set of crotch-less orange underwear. "I don't see what the big deal is, Troy sleeps around anyway."

"You're sleeping with Troy." Taylor said in disbelief.

"No," Gabriella said, a wave of relief flooding her that they were alone. "He wants to go out a few times before anything happens."

"Yeah," Sharpay laughed, "She agreed to go on a couple of dates in exchange for sex."

"Wait, what?" Taylor eyebrows rose as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm so confused, are you having sex with Troy or not?"

"Well not yet," Gabriella said, grabbing a set of red panties off the rack and holding them up to her waist.

"Girl you're giving me whiplash," Taylor said walking over to another rack and picking up a red garter set, "Try it with these, it's a matching set."

Gabriella looked at the bright red color in her hands and a small blush came over her cheeks. "Okay, so I asked him for a strictly sexual encounter and he agreed, under a few conditions," Gabriella said walking over to a mirror in an effort to visualize herself in such wicked attire.

"Sounds hot," Taylor murmured as she walked over to a fitting room and unlocked it, "What are the conditions?"

Gabriella let out a breath as she made her way into the fitting room, "Well, he doesn't want to have sex until we go on five dates."

"So you're dating him," Taylor said matter of fact.

"Not quite." Gabriella quickly disrobed as she began trying on the new lingerie. After her marriage had gone up in flames she'd torched all of her lingerie with it as well. There was no point in holding onto any of it. Obviously none of it was doing its job.

"They're planning on having sex after date number five," Sharpay explained, "Troy just wants to be sure that she wants this and that she's okay with it."

"Oh," Taylor said a little unsure, "and you're okay with that?"

"It's five dates," Gabriella said as she brought the bra straps up over her shoulders, "How hard can it be, I can sit through five dinners and movies until I get exactly what I want. Not to mention even sooner if I cheat a little."

"Cheat?" both girls asked in unison.

Gabriella pushed the curtain back a little, offering them a look at the blood red lace panty and bra set, "There's nothing that says I can't inspire him to hurry things along," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

"Amen," Sharpay said, tilting her head a little as she appreciated the view, "Do you have that in pink?"

"You don't like the red?" Taylor said, looking back at her.

"No I love it, but I want mine in pink."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Right, what was I thinking?" Taylor sighed as she walked back over to the rack. "You know what, I think I have one in green that will really make your skin color pop. I got a lace corset and everything."

"I'll take it, in fact I'm gonna need five different sets," Gabriella said, pulling the curtain shut again and turning to look at her reflection in the mirror, "He's not gonna know what hit him."

"Hey" Sharpay said, jumping down from the counter and coming over closer to Gabriella's stall to be heard, "Maybe he's your inspiration?"

Gabriella stood in front of the full-length mirror, the soft lighting of Taylor's boutique casting a warm glow over her. The sheer red lace of the lingerie she was trying on clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her pause. She turned slightly, inspecting herself from different angles. For the first time in a long time, she liked what she saw.

"You look amazing," Sharpay's voice floated in from the other side of the fitting room curtain. "You're really going to get five sets of lingerie? In five different colors, huh?"

Gabriella smiled, running her hands down the silky fabric. "Yeah, five sets for the five dates Troy insists we go on. Each one different. Each one special."

Sharpay chuckled. "So, are you using all of this for your book? I bet you got plenty of material now."

Gabriella leaned in closer to the mirror, taking in her reflection. Her eyes traced the delicate embroidery, the way the lace caressed her skin, the way she stood a little taller, a little more confident. It hadn't always been this way. After Jason's affair, her confidence had been in shambles. The betrayal had left her questioning everything about herself—her worth, her attractiveness, her desirability. She had spent too many nights staring at herself, wondering what she lacked, why she wasn't enough.

But now, here she was, reclaiming that power. Surprisingly trying on these pieces wasn't just about the dates with Troy; it was about taking back what had been chipped away piece by piece. It was about reminding herself that she was beautiful, that she was desirable, that she had always been enough.

"I think I'm using it for more than just the book," Gabriella admitted, her voice softer, thoughtful. "There was a time during the breakup when I wasn't sure about myself. Jason's affair… it really messed with my head. Made me feel less than, like I wasn't attractive or desirable anymore. But this? Standing here, looking at myself now? It's a little piece of me taking that power back."

Sharpay peeked through the curtain, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Hell yes, girl! You're gorgeous, and it's about time you saw that too."

Gabriella laughed, her heart lighter. "The divorce did shatter a lot of my ideals about romance. It's not the fairytale I once thought it was. But maybe… it's time to dust off the lingerie and try again."

Sharpay nodded, her grin wide. "Exactly. You deserve to feel this good, to see how amazing you are. And if Troy gets to be part of that discovery, then lucky him."

Gabriella turned back to the mirror, her smile soft but sure. "Yeah. Lucky him."

Troy

Later that evening, Troy eased himself up onto a barstool at Chad's, his elbows resting on the polished surface as he dragged a small bowl of pretzels closer. His eyes drifted to the entrance, watching a young couple enter, hands entwined, before they slid into a booth at the back. He let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly as he tossed a pretzel into his mouth.

"Didn't expect to see you here tonight," Chad Danforth greeted, sliding a beer across the bar toward Troy. Chad was a fixture in Troy's life, one of his best friends, part of their trio before Jason's betrayal split them apart.

"Yeah," Troy sighed, taking a sip of the beer. "Trust me, I'd rather be at home drinking my own beer."

Chad raised an eyebrow as he popped the tops off a few more bottles, placing them on a tray for one of the servers. "So why aren't you?"

Troy scowled, leaning back on the stool. "Because I'm hiding."

"Hiding?" Chad asked, frowning. "From what?"

Troy exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "A woman."

Chad's interest piqued as he leaned in closer. "What happened?"

"Nothing, a little space, time, and a cold shower won't fix," Troy chuckled, taking another swig of beer.

"That sounds like lady trouble," Chad said with a knowing grin. "More specifically, a Montez problem."

Troy nodded, setting his beer back on the bar. "She's got this wild idea in her head that we can be… fuck buddies."

Chad let out a hearty laugh, tossing a rag over his shoulder. "Sounds like a dream come true. Isn't that the opening you've been waiting for?"

"Yes and no," Troy shrugged, grabbing a few pretzels. "You know how I feel about her. I've waited this long out of respect for her marriage to Jason. I'm not about to be just a rebound."

"The divorce was just finalized, wasn't it?" Chad asked, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, it was," Troy muttered.

Another customer signaled Chad, pulling him away momentarily. Troy turned his attention to the television screen, watching the latest game with half-hearted interest. The bar offered a temporary escape, a cold beer, a game to distract him, and a steady stream of couples passing through, reminding him of what he both craved and feared.

Chad's wasn't the only sports bar in town, it just happened to be the only one with television screens and a dance floor. He wouldn't even pretend to imagine all the hard work his friend put into this place day in and day out, but it was his own little slice of paradise.

It seemed like just a few days ago that they sat in the back booth going over the plans and naming different types of burgers. Now here they were 9 years later and Chad's Bar and Grill was one of the main attractions in town.

His auto garage was nothing compared to this, hell, he'd been about to shut down business until Gabriella came along and fixed his books. He wasn't exactly a wealthy man but he did well for himself and he could afford to pay Gabriella an honest salary. Looking back at the game he let out a sigh, this entire situation made him nervous. He couldn't afford to lose Gabriella at the garage if this little experiment of hers went south.

As Chad returned, he noticed Troy's lingering gaze toward the door. "Maybe you need something stronger?"

"Nope," Troy said, tapping his temple. "Got to stay in the right mindset."

"Oh yeah?" Chad leaned in again, smirking. "And what mindset is that? Miserable?"

A faint smile tugged at Troy's lips. "How are things with you?"

Chad straightened, exhaling. "Taylor's pushing me to hire another bartender. Says I'm not around enough."

Troy shook his head, chuckling. "You know she's got a point. You've built this place from the ground up, but maybe it's time to step back a little."

Chad laughed. "Yeah, yeah. She's probably right. Just don't tell her I said that."

Troy raised his beer in a mock toast. "Your secret's safe with me."

Taylor Mckessie, Chad's girlfriend, was a force to be reckoned with. She ran the only lingerie store in town, a place that had once been the center of controversy. There had been a great deal of citizens that had wanted the place shut down. Taylor's Closet used to be considered a sinful place that was covered in vandalism on a daily bases. The town's people had tried damn hard to scare her out of there but Taylor wasn't having any of it. She simply brought a bucket of paint to cover the graffiti and went about setting up her shop.

Now, she was practically a town hero, credited with reviving marriages and spicing up lives. Heck, he had it on good authority that the woman was solely responsible for half the children running amuck. Chad although he didn't know it was on a fast track to becoming married himself.

Troy knew the signs, he'd been living in this town all his life and had been watching everyone around him fall in love and get hitched. He saw things coming a mile away. All except for Jason and Gabriella. His eyes went back to the door again. He hadn't seen that one coming; then again he hadn't wanted to see it coming. He remembered it like it was yesterday sitting in that booth over there by the jukebox.

They were giggling and smiling all night, like they had a big secret they were busting at the seams to get off their chest. He'd been convinced that Jason had come into some money of some kind by the way he'd been acting that night. But right there while the appetizers sat on the table Gabriella's hand shot up from underneath the table to reveal a shiny little ring.

His stomach still did several flips just thinking about it. Remembering what it was like to force that stupid grin on his face. To congratulate them and make every effort to sound like he meant it. To pretend like everything inside him hadn't just shattered into a million pieces. He'd never forget that happiness on her face, that joy, content, and peace that rested over her features with unconditional love and acceptance.

He'd also never forget the hurt he'd seen there too. The hurt he never wanted to see there again. The hurt he move hell or high water to avoid being the cause of. No doubt about it he had his suspicions about Jason a few times. He'd seen him talking to Martha a little closer than necessary, seen him guide her thru a room with his hand on the small of her back once or twice. But he hadn't said anything, hadn't wanted to believe that this man who been lucky enough to have this woman pick him above everyone else, would be so stupid.

He'd been helping Gabriella that afternoon, at first he'd just been trying his best to stay in the car until she was inside. She was wearing one of those blue jeans shorts and a thin little spaghetti strap top. Her hair piled high in one of those pony tails she loved so much. The second he pulled up, he sent up a slur of prayers for forgiveness because he'd been thinking bad things about his best friend's wife. He'd been thinking about that strap on her shoulder slipping as she reached into the truck. Watching her with those same loyal and attentive eyes Blue had as he sat there on the pavement waiting patiently for her to finish.

That dog was the best dog he'd ever met. True to the breed Blue had an instinctive love of water, was easy to train and had a beautiful golden coat. Troy loved that dog and at the same time he'd never been so jealous of a damn animal in his life. But that dog followed her everywhere. He slept at the foot of her bed, rode in her truck and laid out in the backyard while she did her yard work. Blue was one of a kind: smart, loyal, funny, playful, and one lucky son of bitch.

Then that damn brown paper bag broke and the bacon went sailing down the driveway with a bunch of potatoes and cans. Troy murmured a cuss word or two and knew he was going to have to get out and help. So he did. He came up the driveway and greeted her and Blue while collecting groceries as he went. He'll never forget the relief in her eyes that afternoon when he came up the drive. She looked like she'd been about ready to kiss him.

Of course everything changed the moment he walked in behind her and came face to face with the very same thing she saw that stopped her dead in her tracks. Her husband and one of her best friends going at it right over the very couches Troy had helped Jason move in three or two months prior. He wasn't sure what the hell happened in-between seeing that look of utter horror on her face and his fist making contact with Jason's jaw.

But five years of pent up resentment sure as hell came in handy that afternoon.

"So," Troy said, picking at the label on his bottle. "Are you planning on hiring someone else?"

Chad let out a sigh, "I guess I have too. It's either that or I get her a puppy."

Troy let out low huff, "You're such a fucking goner."

This time Chad let out a huff, "Looks who's talking fuck buddy."

Gabriella

She removed her reading glasses from her face and leaned back in her desk chair. She'd been writing for the last hour hours. She'd been delusional about coming up to bed and getting ready for a good nights sleep. Afterall tomorrow was Monday. A work day. A day she would be in the office of Troy's tiny garage with him only a few steps away.

He'd be working on Mr. Paterson's Tractor. His arms would be streaked with grease. His muscles bulged as he worked with the engines and spare parts. He always kept a rag in his back pocket, his blue jeans worn in from years on the job. He had special pairs just for the garage. She could already feel herself biting her lower lip as she thought about him covered in sweat and glistening in the sunlight like some kind of god. Somehow with all that going on and her desire for sex now out in the open she was supposed to have a clear head to be able to bill piston rods and lube jobs.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs made Gabriella jerked upright. Blue's head popped up from his spot on the bed and within moments he'd jumped down and was taking off to welcome Troy home. Gabriella glanced over at the clock on her nightstand. It was almost midnight.

While she originally thought that he hadn't seemed into it, looking back at it she realized that he had been interested. When he lifted her up against the door she'd see raw attraction in his eyes. He was thinking about it. Maybe she had been thinking about it. This idea to date her, would he want to if he wasn't interested. It was a small step. Smaller than she would have liked, but she was curious.

And she was definitely interested.

She heard his steps coming up the stairs and without turning around she knew he was standing in her doorway, Blue walked in beside him the sound of his tags clinking together on his collar as he sat. "You're still up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Gabriella closed her laptop. "You weren't home."

"Are you still working on that ad?"

Gabriella turned to find him leaning against the door frame. His shirt was worn and rumbled from the day. His chin was covered in stubble and his eyes more crinkled around the edges. Despite all that, he looked delicious, a little tired and drunk but he looked inviting.

"Don't do that," he mumbled, standing up a little straighter.

"Do what?" she asked.

He shook his head and gave Blue a good scratch behind the ear. "You know what you were doing."

"I assure you, I don't," she laughed amused by his scowl.

"I'm going to shower and hit the hay."

Gabriella smirked, "That an invitation?"

"That right there," he said, reaching for her door knob, "you know exactly what you're doing. Knock it off and get some sleep."

Gabriella let out a small sigh of disappointment as she watched her bedroom door close. After a moment she heard the shower turn on and watched as Blue decided it was his duty to fall into a heap at the door, blocking off her exit.

"Who's side are you on?" she mumbled to him as she placed her hands on her hips.

Deciding to call it a night she sat down on the edge of her bed and lifted her shirt up over head, tossing it behind her. It caught on the cracked open top drawer to her nightstand. She stretched to flick it off, but something else stopped her.

A small grin stole her lips. Perhaps it was time to turn up the heat. Fine, he didn't want to have sex, that was fine. But that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun flying solo. She'd never been too vocal during sex, in fact even when she masterbated she was pretty quiet. And maybe she should change that. She pulled Old Reliable out of the drawer and clicked it on. The plastic hummed in her hand. It tickled her palm and brought a giggle to her lips.

Troy

He stepped out of the shower and toweled off, all the while thinking how much better this would be with Gabriella's tongue lapping him up or her soft hands covering him with soft strokes. Need hung tight to his harden cock and pulled at his balls. He was going to have to get a grip. That cold shower had done nothing. Crossing the hall with the towel hung around his waist he stopped to look at Gabriella's door.

He was going to lose his mind.

Shaking his head, he kept moving, making his way to his room and shutting the door behind him. Coming to his bed he laid down and stared up at the rotating fan. The blades whipped around sending soft waves of air across his dampened body, a chill soaked to his bones, but he was still burning up.

His right hand strayed to his waist. The image of her damp lips wrapped around him entered his mind as clear as if she knelt before him in real life and taken him whole. He closed his eyes and let his hands wonder until his grip was firm and tight. He stroked up his length and thought of Gabriella there. The heat in his grasp was her warm mouth pulling him deep. His hold was her sucking him tight.

His breath quickened, his pace jerked him hard. Release bunched low, built tight, and ready to explode as he stroked. Instead of the breeze from the fan, it was Gabriella's brown hair falling over his thighs, sweeping his belly, and slipping between his legs and touching his balls. His ass tightened, the vision getting so focused in his head, he could swear he heard her moan.

A husky, breathless chuckle whispered through the room and he stilled. That was not part of his dream. Another muffled moan escaped. Wait, was he dreaming? It sounded so real. He sat up and stroked his other hand through his hair. She was making him crazy. Except- there it was again. A very audible pleasure-filled sigh.

He looked back at their shared wall, wanting to believe it was her. He eased across the bed and placed his ear against the wall. A husky groan much like the others, only deeper, sounded out, and a wave of chills blanketed over his skin. His fingers curled against the sheetrock, wishing he could just reach through and have his hands on her.

A throaty purr seeped through, "Troyyyy."

One throaty moan and his world was flipped upside down and his pulse cranked up to that of a jackhammer. He was engrossed with every sound and creak he could hear from the room beside his own. He wondered how quick her breath had become. How pink her bronze skin glowed and glistened as she climbed closer to her climax. His hand was back around his cock. He stroked as the breaths he couldn't hear, but imagined, whispered between her lips and panted a rhythm. His name eased out of her again, this time louder, on a strangled cry.

He tightened his grip. Pressure built around his sack, drawing him in. Gabriella gasped. A muffled moan slid from her. Release rushed through him, so intense, so pleasure-filled, it numbed him he gripped his iron headboard, catching his warm seed before it dripped on his bed. He rested his cheek against the wall and just breathed and listened.

Nothing could be heard from Gabriella and after several minutes, he eased down reaching for an old sock to clean himself. After tossing it into the hamper he laid across his bed. He didn't cover up. His body was too hot. The sheets would have been too confining.

She was going to drive him crazy.

Gabriella

Gabriella parked her truck in the lot, Blue hopping out eagerly as they made their way into the office. The sun was already blazing, promising another sweltering day. She noticed Troy's car parked in its usual spot. He had left earlier, as was his habit, to tinker with some project before the day's chaos set in. She figured he was in the garage, lost in his work, but something about the quiet unsettled her. No good morning, no casual banter—just silence, heavy and stifling.

Inside, the industrial fan droned in the background, a meager relief against the oppressive heat. Gabriella tugged at the hem of her Troy's Auto T-shirt, a few buttons undone, letting the air hit her damp skin. Her hair, piled messily atop her head, barely kept the heat at bay. She felt a trickle of sweat slide down her neck and sighed, certain her deodorant had long given up the fight. Still, she busied herself with the mundane tasks of the day: filing work orders, checking inventory, ensuring everything ran smoothly. Every so often, she'd minimize her Excel sheet and steal a moment to work on her book.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, surprised by how effortlessly the words flowed. She had blown past the first twelve chapters, diving headfirst into rewrites and edits. The story was taking a turn, the tension between her characters simmering into something more intense, more palpable. It mirrored the tension she felt now—after last night's electrifying moment, she had expected something more from Troy. Yet, here she was, sitting in the office, and he hadn't even acknowledged her yet. The frustration gnawed at her, making it hard to concentrate.

Gabriella leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the wall just left of her desk. A collage of memories stared back at her—snapshots of the garage during its golden days, when Troy's grandfather ran it with pride. Faded black-and-white photos of old cars in various states of restoration hung alongside more recent images: smiling faces of the townspeople who had trusted their vehicles to the shop, Jason and Troy laughing by the hood of a truck, and candid shots of them celebrating completed projects. Each picture told a story, a small piece of the garage's soul, but now they only served as a quiet reminder of how much things had changed.

Her eyes lingered on one of Jason and Troy, arms slung over each other's shoulders, grinning like boys who had the whole world ahead of them. The garage felt emptier now without Jason's loud remarks or his stony silence. The hum of machinery still filled the air, and customers still came, but it was different. Did Troy feel it as deeply as she did? Did the silence in the shop weigh on him the way it weighed on her now? Gabriella wondered if he felt lonely, carrying the weight of the business on his shoulders, missing the brotherhood that had been as much a part of the garage as the tools and grease.

She sighed, her fingers drumming softly against the desk. The question that had been circling her mind for days returned, insistent and unrelenting: what's next? Could the garage still thrive without Jason, without the dynamic duo it used to be? And more importantly, how could she help Troy breathe new life into a place that meant so much to both of them.

She loved this place if not more than, maybe as much as he did. She was so excited at the prospect of owning a part of the garage. But how would he feel about that? Would he hate the idea of a woman owning a piece of it?

Jason had felt a certain way about it. Sure he was more than happy to take her money but when it came to the garage he wasn't always thrilled about her being there. He didn't understand why she stood on when the business had leveled out. He always made comments that made her feel like she was intruding.

It was disheartening.

But still, there was a small sense of pride now when she thought of the garages. It felt right. Buying Jason's half. A small wedge of guilt seeped into her thoughts. Troy still didn't know.

While she knew her intentions were good, she couldn't shake the fear that Troy might see it differently. The garage wasn't just a business to him—it was his family's legacy, a piece of his identity, and she worried he'd think she was intruding on something sacred. What if he thought she didn't trust him to manage it on his own? Or worse, what if he felt like she was still tied to Jason's mess, trying to clean it up out of guilt or misplaced loyalty? The last thing she wanted was for Troy to feel resentful or like she was trying to control his life. She hated the idea of him seeing her choice as pity rather than love, but she couldn't ignore the tight knot of worry in her chest. What if she'd misstepped in a way that she couldn't take back?

She glanced toward the workshop, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but the door remained firmly shut. Was he deliberately avoiding her? Her mind swirled with doubt, insecurities creeping in like unwelcome guests. Was he regretting their agreement? Had she been too aggressive? Or worse, had he overheard her last night and decided he was uninterested after all. A whimper of embarrassment escaped her as she let her head fall down on the desk.

He was driving her crazy.

She did not sign up for this limbo—they had agreed to try, to explore whatever this was, but his silence was deafening. She just wanted him to make a move, to ask her out, to bridge the gap that had somehow widened between them overnight.

With a huff, Gabriella turned back to her screen, her annoyance simmering alongside her frustration. The heat outside was nothing compared to the heat inside her, a mix of pent-up desire and growing impatience.

Looking down at her feet Blue rested peacefully as a mini fan blew on him. He'd been in the same spot all day. Not interested in greeting the one or two customers that had come in or chewing on his rubber ducky. Gabriella slipped her flip flop off her foot and gently used her foot to rub Blue's belly. His tail began to wag and soon he was on his feet, his head resting on her lap.

"I know, it's hot Babe," she said scratching behind his ear, "Soon we'll be at home in the air conditioning, how about we watch The Notebook?"

Blue groaned.

"Fine, we can watch Lady and Tramp again," Gabriella let out a sigh as she bent down and placed a kiss on his snout. "At least you don't mind hanging out with me, right?"

He licked at her cheek and she laughed.

The door creaked open, and Gabriella glanced up to see Troy step in, drenched in sweat and streaked with grease, the distinct scent of motor oil clinging to him. He smelled entirely of hard work and man, an intoxicating combination that made her pulse quicken. She watched as he approached, clipboard in hand, and handed her a sheet of paper.

"The tractor for Mr. Paterson needs a tie-rod hydraulic cylinder, 3-inch packing seal kit, 1.25 rod. Make sure we bill him for overnight shipping; he wants it ASAP," he said, his voice steady and businesslike.

"Will do," Gabriella replied, adding the slip to the growing stack on her desk. There was plenty to get through today, but she found herself more distracted by Troy than the tasks in front of her.

"You take lunch yet?" he asked, hanging the clipboard on its usual hook.

Gabriella closed her laptop slowly, tilting her head toward him. "Did you have something in mind?" Because she had a few things in mind. She chewed on her bottom lip as thoughts that involved far less clothing and far more touching flooded her. She could picture him losing that grimy blue shirt, those worn jeans, right here on her desk.

"Could you maybe pick me up a sandwich from that deli you like?" Troy rubbed his stomach casually. "I've got an engine to tune, and I won't make it out to grab something. Jason left a few projects behind. I'm gonna try and wrap up."

Disappointment flickered across her face. "Oh," she murmured.

Troy raised a brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Gabriella slipped on her flip-flops, eager for a break. "Come on, Blue."

"Did I say something wrong? Was it mentioning Jason? Because you know, we can't really just pretend him leaving didn't just knock us on our ass."

Gabriella let out a breath. "No it's not that."

"Then what is it?" He pushed.

Gabriella grabbed her keys and wallet, pausing to meet his eyes. "Troy, when are you gonna make a move?"

Troy blinked, visibly taken aback. "Make what move?"

She folded her arms, leaning against the desk. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I assumed you were present the last time we kissed."

His gaze dropped to her lips, a flicker of something heated passing through his eyes. "I was there."

Gabriella threw her hands up, frustration bubbling over. "Then why are you avoiding it? We almost ignited, and that was just a kiss. Imagine if we took it further."

"I can't think about that right now," Troy said, retreating a step toward the door.

Her temper flared. "Why not? You said you were interested."

After a moment of debating on his part, Troy turned back to face her, his expression intense. "I am interested."

"Then act like it," Gabriella challenged, exasperated.

He stared at her for a long moment. "Have dinner with me tonight," he said finally.

"Dinner?" she repeated, arching a brow.

"Wear a dress," he added, pushing the door open and holding it for her.

Gabriella narrowed her eyes as she passed him. "Where are we going?"

"Out."

"That's all I get?" she teased. "How am I supposed to know what to do with my hair?"

"Leave it down."

A tiny smirk tugged at her lips. "Want to pick out my underwear too?"

Troy let out a low growl, gripping the doorframe tightly. "Gabi."

The way he said her nickname, low and rough, sent a jolt of excitement through her. He rarely used that tone with her, and when he did, it was usually moments before he lost his temper. But now, he didn't look angry, he looked hungry. The sound of her name on his lips made her heart race and her body ache with anticipation.

Blue wasted no time jumping into the truck before her taking the shotgun seat as she got in next. She could still see him watching her as she turned on the truck. She bit her lip nervously as she shifted the truck into reverse, "Blue I think we might have a story here after all," she said looking over at him before turning around to reverse out. Blue barked in excitement as he stuck his head out the window.

The last time Gabriella had brought a dress she'd been buying it for Jason's mom and dad's forty-fifth anniversary party. Looking at the red heart patterned flowy skirt now she was wondering what the hell she'd been thinking.

Gabriella twirled as she held the dress against her body, "This isn't going to work," she said looking back at Blue. Gabriella placed the dress back in her closet and reached for another one. This one was a green summer dress she brought on clearance at Walmart. "Great, I own nothing sexy."

Blue let out a deep sigh as he shifted his nose over his right paw.

"Don't give me that tone," Gabriella scowled as she reached into her closet again, "you might not care but I'm trying to get laid."

Blue let out a groan.

Gabriella let out another sigh, "I guess this will just have to do," she said, pulling out a white little dress covered in lace. "It's casual enough, with a touch of sexy." Gabriella held it up to herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Better be careful about bending over in this one, no telling what might fall out."

Once she was dressed and had brushed her hair out and down around her shoulders she sat at her laptop working on the scene. She had a half an hour to kill before Troy got home and she still had a lot of work to do on her characters.

Before she knew it she was typing away at the story when there was a knock on her door and she jerked back as she turned in her chair, "Yes?"

The door pushed open slightly and Troy poked his head in when his eyes landed on her as he pushed the door open the rest of the way. "Are you just about ready?"

Gabriella turned to the clock and let out a gasp, she'd been typing for over an hour. "Oh my god, is that really the time?"

"Sure is," Troy said with a small smirk.

Her eyes widened as she got her first real look at him. She gulped. Actually gulped. Troy made his greased up jeans and shirt look sinful but this Troy. This dressed up version of Troy. He looked effortlessly handsome in a dark blue button-up shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms, hinting at a relaxed but polished style. His shirt complemented his broad shoulders and athletic build, subtly highlighting his physique. Her eyes shifted down to his well-fitted, dark wash jeans that accentuated his long legs, striking the perfect balance between casual and classy.

And if that wasn't enough the devil was always in the details. He wore a sleek leather belt and a pair of brown suede loafers, adding a touch of sophistication. His dark sandy brown hair neatly styled, and his stubble trimmed to perfection, giving him an air of rugged charm. A simple silver watch on his wrist added a subtle but refined touch.

Her mouth actually watered.

Troy

Gabriella jumped out of her chair, "I am so sorry," she said moving quickly to where she laid out her brown cowboy boots. "Honestly, sometimes I think I'd lose my head if it weren't attached."

"Well, lucky for me it is."

Troy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Gabriella as she stood in front of the mirror, applying a clear coat of lip gloss. The late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a golden glow across her figure. She looked effortlessly stunning in a little lacy white dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The delicate fabric fluttered slightly as she shifted her weight, the hem brushing just above her knees.

Her hair was down, cascading in loose waves over her shoulders, exactly as he had requested. The soft, feminine contrast of the lace against her sun-kissed skin made her look almost ethereal. She pressed her lips together, the gloss catching the light and making them glisten temptingly.

Troy's gaze traveled over her, taking in every detail—the way the dress accentuated the dip of her waist, the faint shimmer on her skin, and the way her eyes sparkled with anticipation. There was something mesmerizing about the quiet concentration on her face as she finished her makeup, completely unaware of how breathtaking she looked.

He swallowed hard, feeling a familiar heat rising in his chest. Gabriella, in this moment, was a vision. She was radiant, confident, and utterly captivating. He couldn't take his eyes off her, each second heightening the desire simmering just beneath his composed exterior.

His eyes drifted towards the bed. It had taken him just about three hours this morning to be able to look her in the eye after last night's little mutual voyage of pleasure fantasies. He could still hear her moaning, still hear his name spilling from her lips.

"I'm ready," she exclaimed coming towards the door, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I'm ready."

"I wasn't rushing," Troy chuckled as he looked back at Blue who was already following her out the door. "Sorry buddy, not tonight."

Blue stopped dead in his tracks looking up at Troy with confusion as he sat back on his hind legs.

"Don't worry I'll have her back before ten," he said, patting him on the head before heading down the hall after Gabriella.

Blue followed them down the stairs and stopped on the last step in time to catch Gabriella's attention, "Oh, don't worry baby. Mommy will be right back. I promise," she bent down and kissed his snout. After a long and hearty scratch behind his ears she got back up and looked back at Troy who was patiently waiting by the door with it held open. "Still not gonna rush me?"

"Nope."

Gabriella walked past him giving him a once over. "You clean up nice,"

"So do you," he said, casting one last glance at Blue before shutting the door. He felt awful about leaving Blue behind but if his plans were going to work he was going to need Gabriella undivided attention. He'd bring Blue back a treat from the restaurant to make up for it.

Troy locked the door and quickly made his way around Gabriella till he was in front of her car door and pulling it open for her.

"I can get my own door," she said with a soft laugh.

"Not tonight."

Gabriella climbed up into his grey truck, it was much higher than hers, much more roomier and tonight he made sure to clean the inside. Once she was settled he softly shut the door behind her. He made his way around the truck and to his own door where he got in.

"Am I allowed to know where we're going now?"

Troy let out a chuckle, shook his head and slipped the key into the ignition to bring the engine to life, "Just sit back and relax."

Gabriella let out a huff as she sat back in her seat watching the scenery pass by as they made their way onto the highway. She leaned forwards and turned on the radio to the old country station he played in the garage.

"I remember when you didn't like country music," he teased.

"I like some of the more contemporary artists." She said fidgeting with an earring. "I can't stand the old stuff Jason used to listen to."

At the mention of his name they both went quiet. Troy taped his thumb along the steering wheel, they couldn't do much about that. Jason was a big part of both their lives. It's not like they could avoid the topic forever.

After a while she shifted in her seat, "Seems like a far way to go just for dinner?"

"Who says I'm just taking you to dinner?" he said, flipping on his turning signal and getting off the highway.

"Where are we?" she asked looking out the window trying to find anything familiar.

"Just a little bit out of town, some place a little more private and low key," he said, pulling into a parking lot. "Figured you'd probably want something a little less public."

Gabriella looked at all the lights shining off the building of the establishment called Pete's and through the open windows of the truck they could smell the food and hear the music coming from inside. "Troy Bolton, this is just sinister," she said, turning back to him.

Troy turned off the car but before he was out and making his way to her door she was already jumping out and closing her own door behind her. He stopped in his tracks and watched as she raced to the doors, her cowboy boots clicking along the pavement as her hair seemed to flutter over her shoulders.

There were many things he'd come to love about this woman. Her excitement over the simplest things, her stubborn nature, and her natural beauty were just a few of those things. Jason was an idiot. Over the years Troy had gotten to know her from a distance, as a friend, as someone who walked away when things got a little too intimate for his liking out of respect for her marriage and happiness. He was looking forward to taking a step closer to her, getting to know her as a woman, in letting her see him as a man and not a friend or the rebound guy.

"Well?" Gabriella said, poking her head back out from the door, "You comin or not?"

Troy tucked his car keys in his pocket and made his way to the door, opening it a little wider for himself and making his way inside after her. The music was louder inside, he could barely hear himself over the murmur of the crowd. Placing his hand on the small of her back he guided her to the hostess who smiled at them.

"Two please," he said leaning in to be heard.

"Right, follow me please," the woman said as she led them to a booth in the back past the dance floor.

He smiled as Gabriella eyes opened wide as she took in the couples dancing on the dimly lit dance floor. Brad Paisley sang over the speakers about little moments and you could smell the steak and almost taste the mash potatoes in the air. Then he placed his hand on the small of her back gently guiding her through the restaurant behind the hostess. He liked putting his hands on her like this. Enjoyed the feel of her shivering at his touch, the rush of pink that stained her cheeks.

"How did you find this place?"

"Someone ordered a tow three weeks ago," Troy said, settling into the booth and watching the hostess set down their silverware. Once the hostess was gone and they were alone again he turned his attention back to Gabriella and smiled warmly as she examined the menu.

"This place is expensive." She glanced up at him with concern.

"It's fine," he said with a raised brow, "get whatever you want."

"What are you getting?" she asked, peeking over at his menu.

Troy glanced up at her again with a playful grin, "Gabriella, I mean it. Order whatever you want."

Gabriella pouted for a second as she looked down at her menu, "What if what you order is better than mine?" she said looking back up. "You know I don't do well with choices."

"Then I'll share," he offered.

Gabriella narrowed her glaze at him and then looked back down at the menu. "You know I'm pretty much a sure thing. You don't need to ply me with fine meals and dancing to get lucky," she said with a smirk. "In fact, if you're curious-"

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice casual but carrying a hint of eagerness as he interrupted her thought.

Gabriella turned back to him with a small laugh, leaning into the back of the booth. "It was alright," she replied, her eyes flickering with something unspoken.

Troy nodded, searching for a thread to pull on. "How's the advertisement going?"

Gabriella tilted her head slightly, momentarily confused. "Advertisement?" she echoed before straightening up. "Oh, right. I need to contact the newspaper, and I'm thinking of placing ads in nearby towns. But, of course, I'll get your approval before I do anything."

"I trust you," Troy said, taking a sip of his water. He didn't know much about advertising. The garage had always relied on word of mouth and the simple sign out front. His granddad's motto of treating people fairly had kept them in business for decades.

Gabriella smiled, her fingers tapping on the table. "Isn't this weird?" she asked, shrugging as she reached for her glass.

"It's your first date in five years. If it wasn't a little awkward, that'd be weird," Troy pointed out, leaning back in his seat, his tone teasing but kind.

Gabriella cringed slightly at the word. "Date," she muttered, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. "Maybe we could call it something else?"

Troy chuckled, glancing down at the menu. "Dinner, then?"

"Dinner," she agreed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, a faint smile playing on her lips.

They fell into a more comfortable rhythm, discussing mundane topics until their server approached. "You folks ready to order?"

"Well," Troy said, glancing at Gabriella, "are you ready?"

Gabriella hesitated, then exhaled. "I'll have a 6oz strip, medium rare, with mashed potatoes and steamed veggies."

"I'll have the same, but make mine an 8oz, well done. And let's start with wings and two Miller Lites," Troy added, handing over his menu. He shot Gabriella a smirk.

"You know me so well," she remarked, handing over her own menu.

As the night wore on, Gabriella relaxed, her laughter becoming more frequent as she recounted stories about Sharpay and Zeke. Troy watched her intently, captivated by her animated expressions and the way she savored each bite of her steak, dipping it into the mashed potatoes. She was magnetic, and he found himself drawn in more with each passing minute.

"I can't believe I'm eating like this," Gabriella admitted, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. I doubt they serve salads here unless they're topped with fried chicken and a mountain of cheese."

Gabriella raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you suggesting I should be eating salads?"

Troy held up his hands defensively. "Not at all. Just saying it's rare to see a woman order anything else when you take her to dinner."

"Because we're supposed to be delicate, right?" Gabriella sighed. "Well, we pretend to be anyway. But, yeah, secretly, we're all dying for wings and steak dinners."

Troy grinned. "So, you're saying you're living out a secret fantasy right now?"

She laughed, nodding. "Exactly. Have you ever watched a bride at a wedding? And I can speak from personal experience on this one. The way she bites into that first piece of cake, it's like she's having her first real indulgence in ages."

Troy chuckled, slightly caught off guard by her boldness. "Never thought of it that way."

Gabriella leaned back, still smiling. "It's a female thing. The pressure to maintain a certain image, even if we're dying for more butter."

Troy admired her honesty, finding it refreshing. "This is fun. I'm happy we did this, and I believe this qualifies as our first date."

Gabriella shrugged. "or our first dinner."

"And what if I wanted it to be a real date?" Troy ventured, his voice soft but firm. "What do I have to do to make this a date?"

Gabriella blinked, momentarily taken aback. She lifted a carrot from her plate, dipping it into the dressing thoughtfully. "Not an option."

Troy wasn't deterred. He leaned in, his gaze unwavering. "I'm not giving up that easily."

Gabriella looked at him, her expression softening. "You're persistent."

"When it's something, or someone, I care about," Troy replied, his eyes locking onto hers with a sincerity.

The evening continued, filled with lighthearted banter and deeper conversations. As the music on the dance floor shifted to a slow, romantic tune, Troy stood, extending his hand. "Dance with me."

Gabriella hesitated. "I'm not dressed for dancing. In fact, I'm afraid to raise my arms in this dress. I just thought we were going to dinner had I known we'd be dancing."She winced. "I don't have a lot of going out clothes."

"I promise to catch anything that falls out," Troy teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She laughed, taking his hand. "You'd be my hero."

"It's a tough job, but I'll manage somehow."

Gabriella

They moved out onto the dance floor and walked into the middle of the crowded space. Beneath the low lights he took one of her hands in his hand and placed his big palm in the curve of her waist. The band played a slowed song by Blake Sheldon about winning her over, and she slowly slid her hand up his chest, over the hard planes and ridges, to his shoulders. Everything in her dress stayed inside, and he pulled her close, close enough that she felt the heat of his big chest, but not so close that they touched.

"Troy?" she mumbled as she settled into the soft sway of their hips, "Why are you doing all this?" His gaze was fixed on her face and he watched her mouth as she spoke, which, she had to admit, she found kind of sexy.

"Just want you to be comfortable," he said quietly as his thumb brushed her waist through the lace fabric of the dress. "I also want you to know how much I respect you."

"You know, I'm not doing this because he left." Gabriella said quietly.

He folded her hand against his chest and slid his free palm to the small of her back. While the band dug into another slow song by Trace Adkins about every light in the house being turned on, the unexpected pleasure of Troy's touch spread tingling warmth up and down Gabriella's spine. He brought her a little closer and asked, "Who are you trying to convince? You or me?" his warm breath touched the shell of her right ear, and the fabric of his jeans brushed against her bare thigh.

Maybe it was the beer or maybe the exhaustion of the day, but she settled into his chest. "It feels like I'm trying to prove it to everyone these days." She'd had only a few beers, so it probably wasn't the beer.

"So then why are you doing this?" Troy asked softly.

"He wrecked me," she whispered. "You ever just convince yourself of something so awful about yourself that it just becomes this acceptable thing you're always miserable about."

"Can't say that I have," he replied.

"Well, I did," She settled into his chest enjoying the warmth and security of being held. It had been so long since she felt this. That special kind of comfort from a man. She had to admit it, she wasn't all that tired. Certainly not tired enough to have to rest against his hard, muscular chest. She should take a step back. But it felt good to be held in a pair of big arms against a big chest. His hand slid up her zipper, then back down spreading all the tingling heat across her skin.

He turned his face into her hair, "you smell good."

So did he, and she couldn't stop herself from inhaling his scent. "You smell better." She liked the way he smelled and felt against her and the way he made her heart pound in her chest, making her feel young and alive.

"Doubt that," he chuckled softly. "Can I ask you something?"

She shifted so her chin rested against his chest and she met his gaze. "You can ask me anything."

His features softened as he watched her closely. "What was the awful thing?"

She let out a sigh, her eyes falling to his chest for a moment as she pulled away slightly. "That I deserved it."

He stilled for a moment, their gentle sway interrupted, his hold on her still secure. "And why would you think that?"

She shook her head at first, then she glanced up to find him watching her so intently. She had to look away. "Because I wasn't lovable anymore. I let my guard down. I got too comfortable. I-"

His grip on her tightened and she looked up to meet his hardened stare. "That way of thinking ends right now," he said sternly. "You're a goddamn sweetheart, especially when you let your guard down. I can't think of anything more attractive than you being comfortable."

"You don't have to say -"

"I'm not just saying it." he pulled her to him, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close. "Jesus, you think it's easy for me when you parade around the house looking the way you do. There have been so many nights I've been extremely uncomfortable because of how turned on I am by you."

She pulled back a little to meet his gaze, his admission stunned her. "You think of me like that?"

"Yes, you make it really hard not to," he said quietly, "Especially, last night with your little performance."

She inhaled sharply on a laugh then slid her hand to the back of his neck and brushed his collar with her fingers. "So you did hear me?"

"I did," he said, resuming their sway, his eyes looking around the dance floor and not back at her. "I figured that was your point."

She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. Knowing that last night hadn't been just for herself, that he'd heard it. That he had been turned on by it. Gabriella looked up at him, a little laugh escaping her lips when she realized he was blushing. "Oh my God, you're totally blushing right now."

He stifled a groan as he rolled his eyes.

"Troy?"

He glanced down at her, "Yeah."

"You should totally kiss me right now."

Troy's eyes fell to her lips, and his own lips pulled into a smile, "Is that right?"

"Well," Gabriella murmured as she watched him, "You gonna kiss me or not?"

Troy chuckled and brought his lips down to hers for a soft kiss. Chaste. Nothing like that kiss before. Not that the kiss was bad, she didn't think he knew how to deliver a bad kiss. But this was very controlled.

"Are you ready to go?"

She shifted. "Depends? Is the rest of that kiss waiting for us outside?"

"Damn it woman," he said, tugging her closer to him with a teasing smile, "you're going to be the death of me."

Troy

Troy hummed along to Lee Brice's song about women not believing everything they thought, the lyrics resonating a little too well with his current predicament. His pen scratched across the notepad as he jotted down the parts he needed Gabriella to order. Lifting his wrist, he wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed. If this heat wave didn't break soon, he'd have no choice but to spring for a new AC unit for the garage.

Normally, he'd retreat to the office for a break, where the AC actually worked, but the last time he'd gone in there, Gabriella had been filing invoices, wearing those short overalls with a green patch over the left pocket. That image had stuck in his mind like a brand. She was driving him insane, the way her outfit hugged her figure, her hair in playful pigtails. It was like she'd transformed overnight into the ultimate temptation.

The thought of being alone with her in the office again made his pulse race. He could see the headlines now: Man Dies from Lack of Blood Flow to Brain. That button-up Troy's Auto shirt, ripped sleeves and all, was enough to drive any man to distraction. But he wasn't just any man, he wasn't about to be that guy, the one who made everything worse by giving in to a fleeting desire.

Troy dropped his clipboard onto the workbench, picking up a cross iron instead. He needed to focus. Which was getting harder to do. Since their date last week they'd been in a stand off of sorts. She paraded around in these little outfits and he'd taken up cold showers. Mentioning his attraction to her may have been a mistake. She had an advantage and she knew it.

That couldn't happen again. He wanted more than a one-time thing with her. She deserved more, and he was determined not to be another name on the list of men who had let her down. Jason had already done enough damage. Troy wasn't about to add to that.

Grabbing a tire from the pile, he carried it over to Sharpay's pink convertible, which was hoisted up for a tire change. He'd just removed the old one when he heard the side door open. He glanced over his shoulder to see Gabriella walking in.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he replied, placing the old tire on the floor and picking up the new one.

He heard the soft tap of her feet on the concrete as she approached. Her hand touched his back, and it took everything in him not to flinch—or worse, turn and pull her into his arms. Once upon a time, her touch was simple, friendly. Now, it was a spark to dry tinder, igniting something he wasn't sure he could control.

"I need your signature on this order," she said, holding out the clipboard.

Troy secured the tire, wiped his hands on a rag from his back pocket, and took the clipboard from her. "No problem," he said, his voice carefully neutral.

"How's it coming along?" she asked, her tone light but her eyes curious.

As if she really cared.

"Alright," he replied, handing back the clipboard.

"Great." Her lips curved into a smirk. "How long do you think it will take?"

"Not long," he said, tucking the rag back into his pocket. He wasn't going to take the bait.

"Is something bothering you?" Gabriella's voice was quieter now, more probing. "You keep giving me these bland answers."

Troy shook his head, burying his emotions deep. He'd been doing that for so long, it was almost second nature. "No, why would something be wrong?"

She raised a brow as she gave him a once over. Her eyes shifted to the workbench. "So, is there a reason you've been avoiding me, or do you just like making me chase you around the garage?"

At that he chuckled. "Chase me? I thought I was giving you some space. You know, to miss me." He teased playfully as reached up for the other tire he was removing.

Gabriella let out a huff as she stepped around to where he was. "Oh, is that what you call it?" She asked, moving a little closer to him. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're scared."

Raising a brow Troy lowered the tire to the ground "Scared? Of you? I think you've got it backwards."

"Oh really? Because every time I get close, you suddenly find a tire that needs rotating."

He laughed at that, because she was right, he was actively trying to stay distracted where she was concerned. "Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes."

"Or maybe," she said, coming up to his side. "you're afraid I'll catch you."

Troy glanced in her direction, their eyes meeting and holding. He should not be entertaining this. But then he couldn't help himself, "And what happens if you do?"

She shrugged, offering him a playful smirk, "Guess you'll have to find out. But fair warning, I'm pretty good at catching what I want."

He leaned in, not ready to back down. "And what is it you want, Gabriella?"

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she fanned herself with the clipboard. "I think you already know."

"Maybe I do. But I like hearing you say it," He said softly.

"Well, you're going to have to wait just a little longer. Where's the fun if I give away all my secrets now?"

"You're trouble, you know that?"

She laughed. "And yet, you can't seem to stay away."

At that reminder he took a step back. "Maybe I like a little trouble. Keeps things interesting."

Gabriella crossed her arms, leaning against one of the support beams. "Good. Because I'm not planning on going anywhere."

He smirked. "On that note," he said, motioning back to the office. "I better go give Sharpay an update on her car."

And then he stepped away from the car, and her. Distance was the only thing that had kept him sane all these years. It had been his strategy ever since Jason had staked his claim on Gabriella. Even though Jason was out of the picture now, the habit stuck. When things got too comfortable, too tempting, Troy walked away. It was the only way he knew to protect himself from wanting what he couldn't have- or wasn't sure he deserved.

At least not yet.

Gabriella

She followed Troy, not even a second or two behind him as he entered the back office. Sharpay was there with Blue giving him a good scratch behind the ears.

"I've got two more tires to rotate, then you're all set." He smirked in Gabriella's direction and she rolled her eyes as she made her way over to her desk.

"Well, I'm just as happy as a boarding house pup," Sharpay quipped.

Troy smiled. "Be careful on those back roads, Shar. I replaced your two front tires. They were in pretty bad shape."

Sharpay grinned. "Thanks Troy, seriously I don't know what I would do without you!" Sharpay looked over at Gabriella with a grin. "Hey, what are ya'll doing tonight?"

Troy glanced at Gabriella, then back at Sharpay. "I was planning on having a beer or two at Chad's."

"Nonsense! Come to my house. There's a party," Sharpay declared.

"Party?" Gabriella echoed, intrigued.

Sharpay nodded eagerly. "We're having a big cookout. Daddy just got the pool lighting repaired. It would be a shame not to celebrate!"

Gabriella looked over at Troy, her brow raised in question.

Troy met her gaze and nodded slowly. "I guess we can."

Sharpay clapped her hands in delight. "Well, I'm cooking on a front burner today," she laughed, playfully slapping Troy's shoulder.

Troy smiled, tearing an order slip from his notepad and handing it to Gabriella. "By the way, I need these by the week's end," he said, adding a small wink.

"Sure, no problem," Gabriella replied, taking the slip.

"Alright," Troy said, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before turning to Sharpay. "Your car should be ready in a few minutes. I'll bring it around the front and fill it up with gas."

"Bless your heart," Sharpay said with a grin.

As soon as Troy left, Sharpay spun around, eyes gleaming. "Wear that red bikini I got you last summer."

Gabriella raised an eyebrow. "You're evil."

"I'm a Texan," Sharpay said with a smirk. "Go big or go home."

Gabriella laughed.

"Are you sure it's just been one date?" Sharpay asked, settling back into her seat in front of her desk with a skeptical tilt of her head.

Gabriella sat down as well. "He's coming around. At least he kisses like he is."

Sharpay arched her brow. "Well, kissing and rolling around in the sheets aren't the same thing. Maybe you should undress a little more."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Sharpay, if I wore any less, I'd be walking around in a bra and underwear."

Sharpay lifted her hands in a mock surrender. "Who says you can't?"

"The law?" Gabriella retorted, smirking.

Sharpay huffed. "Sure, you can't parade around the supermarket in your Vicky Secret's, but in your own home? Why not?"

Gabriella leaned back in her chair. "I might have confidence, but I'm not bold enough to strut around like a runway model."

Sharpay leaned forward, placing her palms flat on the desk. "Where's Brie Carmichael? Your next best-seller is right here, waiting for you to grab it. You told me last night you've got sixteen chapters already. At this point, you're not just sleeping with Troy to jumpstart your libido. You're doing it for women everywhere. This isn't the time to be as nervous as a cat at a dog pound."

Gabriella let out a breath, thinking about the email she'd sent to Michael with the new chapters. "I haven't heard from Michael yet."

"You're scared?" Sharpay accused playfully.

"Am not," Gabriella shot back with a frown. "Those chapters are good. I know they are."

Sharpay smiled, "You think tonight will count as one of those dates?"

Gabriella let out a loud sigh as she leaned back in her chair. "Knowing Troy it won't."

"Couldn't hurt to try."

Troy

Troy groaned inwardly as he stood in the kitchen with Blue at his side, debating his life choices. He should have stuck to his original plan—go to Chad's, watch the game, have a beer or two. But no, here he was, contemplating a pool party, knowing full well the kind of trouble Gabriella could stir up just by existing. He glanced at his watch, mentally calculating if he could still make it out without causing too much of a scene. He reached for his keys.

Blue, ever the accomplice to his internal struggles, let out a dramatic sigh and plopped down in front of him, effectively blocking the exit. Troy glanced down at the dog, eyebrow raised. "Really? You're taking her side now?"

Blue lowered his head, his expression one of clear disapproval.

"Don't judge me," Troy muttered. "You know as well as I do she's not coming down here in a one-piece."

Just then, the sound of a door shutting upstairs cut through the tension. Both Troy and Blue looked up toward the stairs. Her footsteps echoed, sealing his fate. Gabriella descended the staircase, beach bag slung over her shoulder, wearing a yellow sundress that hinted at the red bikini beneath. Definitely not a one-piece.

Troy swallowed hard, groaning again internally. She was all summer sunshine and effortless beauty—no makeup, hair in a ponytail, and yet she had the power to leave him utterly undone.

"You ready to go?" Gabriella's voice was light, casual, as if she hadn't just sent his brain into overdrive.

Troy cleared his throat, trying to find his footing. "Uh… no."

Gabriella tilted her head, concern flashing in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Blue looks sick," he blurted out, desperate for a distraction.

Blue, hearing his name, trotted over to Gabriella, nuzzling her hand with evident enthusiasm.

Gabriella knelt, cupping Blue's face with her hands. "You okay, baby?"

Blue barked, tail wagging furiously, and rewarded Gabriella with a series of joyful licks.

"He seems fine," she said, still scratching behind Blue's ears. Her concern was genuine, but the corners of her lips quirked up in amusement. "Maybe it was just a little episode?"

Troy sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Yeah, must've been."

Gabriella stood, pushing her sunglasses onto her face. "Well, come on. We don't want to be late." She breezed toward the door, Blue happily circling around in excitement.

Troy lingered a moment, giving Blue a sidelong glance. "Really couldn't let me have that one, huh?" He gave Blue a pat on the side. "You're too proud of yourself, you know that?"

At the party, Troy sought refuge by the coolers, watching from a distance as Gabriella and Blue settled by the pool. His breath hitched when she peeled off her sundress, revealing the bikini he had anticipated—and dreaded. She was a vision, her tanned skin glowing in the late afternoon sun, every curve a temptation.

He gripped his beer tighter, willing himself to look away, but failing spectacularly. Gabriella was a walking distraction, a reminder of every reason he should have gone to Chad's. But deep down, he knew—there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

"Hey buddy," Ryan's voice sounded beside him, pulling his attention away from Gabriella.

"Hey," Troy said in greeting.

"Didn't expect to see you here. Then again," Ryan motioned over to Gabriella laid out in one of the beach chairs chatting with Sharpay. "I can definitely see why."

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the backyard, where the sounds of laughter and splashing water filled the air. Sharpay's house had a way of drawing the whole town together for these impromptu gatherings, and tonight was no exception.

"So," Ryan began, his tone light, "I talked to Jason the other day. Said their settling in fine."

A dull ache poked at him. There was a time in his life he talked to Jason everyday. It was still weird thinking of him like a stranger. Troy nodded, taking a sip from his beer. "Yeah? Good for them."

Ryan shrugged, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, you know how it is around here. Hard to leave when everyone's got something to say about your business. Small towns, man. They never forget anything."

Troy's gaze dropped to the ground, feeling the weight of Ryan's words. "Yeah… it's tough. People talk, whether they know the whole story or not."

Ryan glanced around the yard, then back at Troy, a smirk playing on his lips. "You'd know, huh? Must've been a hell of a thing for you, too, after everything with Gabriella. People don't let stuff like that go easily."

Troy shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced toward the side of the pool where Gabriella sat. Her laughter rang out, carefree, and it made his heart clench. "Yeah, well, people love to speculate. Doesn't mean they know what's really going on."

Ryan studied him for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "Speaking of speculation… Are you ever gonna make a move? Or are you still hanging back because of Jason? Even after everything he pulled?"

Troy's expression remained neutral, though his mind raced. "Gabriella's got enough on her plate. Last thing she needs is more gossip flying around."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Uh-huh. So you're just gonna stand by and let her stay in limbo? Feels like you respect Jason a little too much for someone who didn't exactly treat her right."

Troy shrugged, keeping his tone even. "It's not about respect. It's about timing. She deserves better than to be the center of town gossip again."

Ryan sighed, leaning in slightly. "Look, man, I get it. But if you keep waiting for the perfect time, it might never come. Sometimes you just gotta take the shot."

Troy finally looked at Ryan, a small, resigned smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I hear you. Just… trying to figure it all out, you know?"

Ryan grinned, clapping Troy on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't wait too long. You might find yourself out of time."

Troy chuckled softly, the weight of Ryan's words settling in as he glanced back toward Gabriella. She caught his eye and offered a warm smile that made his pulse quicken.

Noted, he thought, taking another sip of his beer as he watched her laugh, wondering just how long he could keep waiting.

Gabriella

Gabriella came to a stop on the path as a group of kids ran past her, then came Blue with a frisbee in his mouth. She shook her head and kept walking if anything Blue was gonna be tuckered out later tonight.

She pulled at the sliding glass door and made her way inside. She walked down the hall towards the bathroom and knocked on the door. Someone was inside. Letting out a sigh she walked back through the kitchen and took the stairs up to Sharpay's bathroom upstairs.

She knew Sharpay wouldn't mind, she'd used the bathroom upstairs many times before during parties in the past. As per usual the bathroom was unoccupied and she let herself in. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She was a little sun kissed from the afternoon sun but not burnt.

She made quick work of handling her business and then washing up. As she braced herself to reenter the crowd downstairs she pulled open the door and came face to face with Troy.

She jumped about a foot, taken by surprise by his appearance.

"Hi," he smirked, humor lighting up his eyes as he took a step forward, entering the bathroom and effectively keeping her inside with him.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting into some trouble for once." He murmured shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Seriously," Gabriella let out a huff, "You won't kiss me in a restaurant full of strangers, but you'll sneak into the bathroom after me at a party filled with our closest friends and neighbors."

"Are you complaining?"

"You're damn right I am."

He let out a laugh as he pushed her back until she was up against the vanity sink.

"Don't you dare laugh at me." She said, nudging his shoulder. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention." He said caging her body in between his and vanity. His warmth and scent overwhelmed her and made her stomach flutter. He smelled good, like barbecue, beer and burgers. Like summer.

"You're impossible to read," she grumbled. "You wouldn't even be in the same room with me all week and then here you are."

"Well," he said, bringing his hand up to cup her face. "Allow me to apologize."

His lips were on hers in a tender kiss, his hands shifting up her jawline and up into her hair, his finger wrecking habit on her hair and yet feeling amazing against her scalp. All her arguments from moments ago melted away and she relaxed into his touch. Enjoying the slow burn his touch left behind and the spreading tingle his nearness brought in.

A stifled groan escaped her lips as she lifted her hands over his chest, feeling the sculpted muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt. She determined immediately that it was unfair that while she was clad in her sinfully red bikini he was fully covered in his grey T-shirt and swimming trunks. Her fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, to even the score between them. She wanted to feel his skin, and wanted to place kisses on his bare chest.

"You have been on my mind all day long," he murmured.

"You make that really hard to believe," she mumbled back as she successfully got his shirt half way up his torso. "A girl can go crazy waiting on you. I was beginning to think I imagined that first kiss."

He growled as he pulled away from her and lifted his shirt up and over his head discarding it on the floor behind him. "I think we could both use the reminder." He grumbled hoisting her up onto the vanity top. "I have to exercise my self control around you."

"Or, you could just take advantage of me," she whispered. "Afterall, I doubt anyone's looking for us."

"As much as I want to, we're not ready for that yet." he mumbled as he dipped his face into the nook of her neck, his lips caressing the arch of skin there and making her eyes roll in response.

"Agree to disagree," she said a little out of breath as she wrapped her arm over him. God if she'd known how hot it was to make out with Troy she would have done it ages ago. The man was through if not precise about taking his time. She felt her blood rushing in places that hadn't been awake for a while now.

"When was the last time you made out like this," he asked as if reading her mind.

"This would be a first," she answered a little out of breath. Which was tragic because right now, with Troy was probably the first time in her life she thought she might actually die if he stopped. A feeling she'd always thought was insane because who could get so distracted by someone kiss-

His hand slipped under her bikini top and her thoughts evaporated. Troy's hands were all she could focus on, his touch, his lips, his breathing. There were so many things happening all at once and all she could do was hold on and enjoy the ride he was taking her on.

"You harass me out of the blue about wanting sex, then you begin dressing like a playboy bunny and as if it wasn't hard enough to keep my head in check you're walking around here practically in your underwear."

"It's a bikini," she informed him as he dipped down and took her nippled in his mouth, sucking it and pulling away with an audible pop.

He continued. "You disrupt my day constantly with your sassy mouth, so that all I can think of for hours at work is kissing you. You're driving me crazy."

She let out a moan. "The feelings are mutual."

"Only you have this crazy idea that this needs to be only physical." he swooped in again running his tongue along her collar bone back up to her neck and making her shift in anxious arousal.

"This is physical." Gabriella whispered.

"No," he said, pulling back up to her chin his kiss slowly coming back to her lips. "It's only this good because there's a mental awareness that this isn't just some random hook up. It's good because this is about me and you."

"No," she protested weakly.

"Gabi," he said hovering just above her lips, "If I were to slip my hands between your legs and finish you off right here, right now. You'd only be getting off because it was me working you up. Because we have a connection and I make you feel this way."

She let out a whimper as she arched her back a little. Needing more, wanting him to keep touching her, to feel him deliver on that promise. But he had stopped. "Troy?" Her eyes opened to find him watching her intently, his brows furrowed and his lips in a smug grin.

"You're such an asshole," Gabriella whispered, straightening up and pulling her top back into place. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with anger and frustration.

Troy, standing a few feet away, bent down to retrieve his shirt from the floor. He avoided her gaze, his jaw tightening. "I told you we weren't going to go that far," he said quietly, slipping his shirt back on.

Gabriella let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, but you didn't have to take it as far as you did. What was that? To prove a point? To throw it back in my face?"

He frowned at that. "That is not why I came up here."

"Then what did you come up here for?"

"I came up here because you've been circling me all day, you think it's easy to keep myself in check around you." he reasoned. "I thought this was what you wanted?"

"What I wanted?" she repeated, incredulous. "No, this was what you wanted. You wanted to play some stupid game. I just wanted to scratch an itch."

He flinched at her words, his face twisting in pain. "An itch? That's why I think we need to slow down."

"No," she said firmly, her voice rising. "You want a relationship. I don't. I just finalized my divorce, Troy. My marriage was a disaster, and everyone in this town saw it fall apart. Now you expect me to dive into whatever this is?"

He stepped closer, his tone soft but insistent. "Whatever this is, it's not just some itch, Gabriella."

She sighed, jumping down from the vanity and pacing away from him. She caught sight of her reflection, her disheveled appearance mirroring the chaos inside her. "We can agree on that. This is a train wreck."

"You're saying that because you're angry," Troy said, his tone softening. "But that's exactly why we need to take our time. This is all fresh, and it's bound to bring up-"

"Don't," she cut him off, her voice sharp. "Just forget it. Forget all of it."

Troy took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Just because you've had some bad luck-"

"Bad luck?" she interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "Bad luck is dropping your phone in the toilet. My marriage was a joke. It humiliated me. I'm not going through that again. I wanted a distraction, Troy. Something fun. I didn't want to worry about when you'd get bored or when someone prettier would come along."

"Gabriella…" he started, but she shook her head.

"I don't get it, Troy," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I've heard about all the women you've been with. But when I ask for this one thing, it's like I've asked for the impossible."

"I don't want things to get uncomfortable between us," Troy said, stepping towards her cautiously.

She gave him a sad smile. "I didn't think my request would make things uncomfortable. I don't want that. Let's just forget I ever said anything."

He shook his head slowly. "It doesn't work like that, Gabriella. Not with us."

"I realize that now," she admitted, her eyes downcast. "I thought I had everything figured out."

"And what did you think? That we could do this for a while and then just stop? Go back to normal?"

Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "You've done it with other women."

That was it. His frustration boiled over. He crossed the distance between them, his voice intense. "You are not other women, Gabriella!"

Her eyes flashed with fire as she turned to face him. "I'm not just your friend's wife anymore, either."

"You know damn well I don't think of you like that," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You're just stubborn, impatient, and spoiled. Newsflash, I'm not Jason. I actually care, and I'm here, not downstairs screwing around with Sharpay."

Her hand moved before she could stop it, the slap echoing in the room. Troy turned his face away, the sting more emotional than physical.

Silence hung heavy between them.

"I'm going home," Gabriella said finally, her voice steady. "If you want a ride, be in the truck in five minutes. Otherwise, we're done."

She walked out, leaving Troy standing alone, the bathroom now oppressively quiet. As she made her way down the hall, she wiped away a stray tear, her heart aching with the weight of all that was left unsaid.

Troy

Troy sat at the corner of Chad's bar, nursing a soda, the place eerily quiet in the afternoon light. The bar wasn't even open yet, but Chad had let him in, sensing the need for a familiar space and a listening ear. Troy's mind replayed the events of the night before on an endless loop, each scene more painful than the last.

He'd followed Gabriella upstairs at the pool party, a reckless whim driven by too many lingering glances and unspoken feelings. One moment they were laughing, and the next, his hands were on her, and she wasn't pushing him away. Until she was.

And not in the physical sense.

The make-out session had spiraled into a shouting match. Words they couldn't take back were flung into the space between them, stinging and raw. They had talked over each other, neither willing to listen, both too caught up in their own frustration and fear.

Troy rubbed his face with his hands, groaning. He felt like a jackass, a terrible friend who had pushed too hard and shattered something fragile between them. Gabriella hadn't shown up to work today, leaving him alone in the garage with only his thoughts for company, a slow torture he wasn't handling well.

Chad leaned against the bar across from him, wiping down a glass as he observed Troy with a calm, knowing expression. "You look like you've been hit by a truck."

Troy snorted, a humorless sound. "Might as well have been. I screwed up, Chad. Last night… I got ahead of myself and screwed things up with Gabriella. We—" He paused, shaking his head, he did not like talking about this with someone who wasn't her. "We made an agreement. Things were going alright and then last night we made out. Which was great, very consensual and enjoyable for both parties." Troy said, needing to make that part clear.

"Okayyy," Chad said on a shrug. "Spit out."

"I think I pushed her too hard and spooked her. We got into a fight. She slapped me."

"I see." Chad eyed the glass in his hands. There was a pause for a moment before he looked back up. "Did you earn that slap?"

"I did."

Chad set the glass down, crossing his arms. "Okay. So you two had a moment, then a fight. That's not as uncommon as you think. Couples fight. What's the issue?"

Troy looked up, incredulous. "I feel like I pushed her into something she wasn't ready for. Like I've been a horrible friend. She didn't come into work today. That's on me."

Chad shrugged. "Look, fights happen. Disagreements are part of any relationship, whether it's friendship or something more. What matters is what you do after the fight. The longer it's radio silent the worse it can get. The more you can hurt each other. My best recommendation is to just talk to her."

Troy frowned, his fingers tapping the bar. "I just… I don't know how to fix it."

Chad leaned in, his voice steady. "Chances are she feels the same way you do. Start by listening. Reach out to her. Apologize. Let her know how you feel, and give her space to do the same. You care about her, right?"

"Yeah, a lot," Troy admitted, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him.

"Then show her that. Communicate. It's not about being perfect; it's about being real. You're not gonna get everything right, but you can try to make it right. Do not get lost in that Jason bullshit. And don't let it get between you guys."

Troy sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "You're right. I've got to talk to her. Really talk."

Chad smiled, clapping him on the back. "There you go. It's not the end of the world, man. You two just need to work it out."

Troy nodded, determination hardening his expression. "Thanks, Chad. I'll figure it out."

Chad grinned. "I know you will. Now, get out of here. You're gonna scare my customers with your grumpiness."

Troy slid off the barstool, feeling a bit lighter. As he stepped out into the afternoon sun, he knew he had a lot of work to do, but for the first time since last night, he felt like he could see a way forward.

Gabriella

Gabriella sat across from Michael in his sunlit office, her manuscript clutched tightly in her hands. The room smelled of fresh coffee and paper, the familiar scent of creativity and long hours of work. She'd sent over the sixteen chapters she had poured her heart and soul into yesterday, yet now, as she sat here, her heart heavy with doubt.

Michael flipped through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration. Gabriella watched him, biting her lip, her mind drifting back to the argument with Troy last night. The scenes she had written, raw and personal, mirrored too closely to the real emotions she had just experienced.

Was it too much? Too close to home? She shifted a little uncomfortably.

Michael closed the manuscript, setting it down gently. "Gabriella," he began, his voice thoughtful, "this is some of your best work. The characters are vivid, the emotions palpable. But I can sense there's something you're holding back. What's going on?"

She exhaled slowly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "It's… complicated. The story, it's based on something real. Something happening right now in my life. Honestly I don't know why I feel so upset about it. I got into a fight last night with a really good friend of mine, and now I'm just not sure if I should continue. It feels… too personal."

Michael leaned back in his chair, nodding. "I see. Writing from personal experience can be both a strength and a challenge. It gives authenticity, but it also makes you vulnerable. Do you think that's what's making you hesitate?"

Gabriella nodded, her voice soft. "Yes. I don't know if it's right to put this out there. What if it's too revealing? What if I'm not ready?"

Michael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Gabriella, every writer faces this moment. The point where the lines between life and art blur. But here's the thing, you have a unique perspective, a voice that can resonate with others going through similar struggles. And that's powerful."

"But what if it's too much?" she asked, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

Michael smiled gently. "Then it's about finding balance. You don't have to tell everything. But don't let fear silence you either. Your story has value because it's honest. If writing helps you understand what you're feeling, it's worth pursuing."

Gabriella considered his words, the weight of his encouragement settling in her chest. "I'm just scared. Scared of what it might mean, for me, for … him."

Michael nodded. "That's natural. But remember, writing is also a way to process, to heal. You're not alone in this. Face those inner battles, Gabriella. Use them to fuel your story. You're stronger than you think."

Gabriella brought hand up to her temple to rub away the headache there.

"This book has a lot of potential. I won't lie to you. Whatever it is that's got you writing like this, I encourage it."

Gabriella let out a sigh, "So who is this reporter you want me to talk to?"

Micheal leaned over picking up a card from the corner of his desk and handing it to her. "His name is Martin Gibson, he works for the Boston Globe. Be careful with this one he sounds like he's trying to make a name for himself."

"I hate reporters, they have no souls."

"Oh come on now, don't talk bad about our bread and butter. Just remember to be smart and be careful."

"I will." A small smile tugged at her lips. She released a breath on a low sigh. "Thank you, Michael. For all of it really."

He grinned, standing up and coming around his desk to offer her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Anytime. Keep writing. The world needs your story."

Gabriella his office feeling a little lighter, her steps more assured. When she got back to her car she and Blue hopped inside. She let out a sigh as she leaned back into her seat, her eyes on Blue who was doing his best to monitor anyone in the parking lot.

"What do you think?" She asked him, "You think he'll even want to see us tonight?"

Blue looked over at her with a long face. His two front paws shifted his weight.

Gabriella lifted her phone and sent a quick e-mail to Martin Gibson about meeting later in the week online; she braved the outside world enough for today and wanted to go home.

When she finally got home she parked in the driveway annoyed when she saw his truck there as well. "He's home early." She grumbled.

Yeah, she decided to miss work today because there wasn't much to do, and what needed to be done she could log on from her laptop and get done. She didn't feel like hanging around in the awkward silence that was sitting between them. They hadn't spoken to each other since last night. Since she lost her temper and slapped him.

She let out a groan as she let her forehead fall into the steering wheel. She debated pulling out of the driveway and heading over to Sharpay's house. But she didn't want to be anywhere else right now. She wanted to be home. She wanted to take her bra off and take her hair down. And damn it, there was a small part of her that wanted to be snuggled up on the couch with Troy.

What the hell was that about?

"Let's get this over with," she said, opening the truck door and climbing out. Blue hopped out and ran ahead leaving her behind as she gathered her things. God, what she wouldn't give to sink into a warm bubble bath right about now.

She brought a hand up to her neck and rubbed at the sore muscles there. The ones that ached from carrying the weight of the world she'd somehow involuntarily picked up. This wasn't their first fight, probably wouldn't be their last. But it was different. Their relationship was different.

This probably wouldn't blow over with a beer and surrender of the thermostat control.

She climbed the front steps slowly, her shoes feeling like weights tied to her feet. It was like this whenever she fought with Jason too. He'd be home waiting for her, beer in one hand sitting in front of the tv and just blasting his passive aggressive attitude at her. The one that gave her the silent treatment and sulked for days before one day whispering something about the weather, or a missing item from the fridge.

She took a deep breath reaching for the door handle and letting herself in. Blue made his way inside and she could hear the television in the living room. Blue walked ahead of her into the living room where she assumed Troy was. Coming over to the fridge she opened it and brought out two beers.

Better to go in armed.

The sound of the TV stopped and she glanced up with a raised brow. When she entered the living room she found Blue laying on the couch and Troy in his recliner which was turned toward her. He was still in his work jeans, his white shirt covered in grease stains and his Troy's Auto shop shirt left unbuttoned.

"Refill?" she offered.

Troy looked up at her cautiously, didn't say a word but reached for her hand. His grip wrapped around her wrist as he tugged her forward. "Come here."

She arched a brow in confusion as she was pulling into his lap. What the hell? She sank down her behind landing with a soft thud in his lap and his arms wrapping around her so she sank into him fully. She still held onto the two beers. Uncertainty filling her judgement.

"What are you doing?"

"Holding you." He said quietly, leaning back a little and watching her intently. "You look tired."

She watched him back curiously. "Aren't you upset?"

"Not anymore," he said quietly. "You?"

She felt her eyes water against her will. "No," she sniffled. Shit. She didn't want to cry. Not here. Not with him looking at her like that. "I shouldn't have said what I did. You have your past and I have mine. We shouldn't be dragging all that baggage into whatever this is."

"Oh," Troy smirked, "there's a 'this' now?"

A laugh escaped her lips despite her seriousness and she nudged him. "Don't be an asshole."

"Okay, okay," He said, reaching for the beers she was holding and gently removing them from her hands, setting them aside on the floor beside the recliner. He shifted gathering her up into his hold so she was resting against his chest.

She let out another laugh that might have been a sob, she wasn't really sure. She hadn't known what to expect, but this wasn't it.

"Please don't cry baby," he whispered quietly. "You know I hate it when you cry."

A tear slipped down her cheek and she fisted his shirt. "Trust me, it's not what I had planned for this conversation."

At that he gently placed his chin on top of her head. Letting her nestle into him. Taking full advantage of his warmth and affection. Soaking in as much of it as she could because, damn it. It felt good. He always did.

"I'm sorry," Troy said, breaking the silence. His voice was earnest, filled with regret. "For everything. For pushing when you weren't ready. For making you feel like I was trying to control this…whatever this is."

She sniffled again and his hand rubbed her arm, warming up parts of her like soothing balm. She could feel the pent up tension in her body loosening.

"I just…I can't give you no strings. I don't think I'm capable of that when it comes to you." He said quietly.

She sighed, the weight of his words settling over her. "I know. And that's what scares me. Mostly because a big part of me loves that about you."

He released a low breath as he relaxed a little underneath her. She got the sense that she just might be Troy's soothing balm. The idea intrigued her more than it should have.

She glanced up at him, pulling away from him just a little to meet his eyes. "There's a big tailgate party this weekend, Taylor told me Chad's sponsoring the event."

"Yeah?" he said quietly.

She shifted herself in his lap so they were facing each other. Bringing her knee up and over she settled into a straddling position in his lap. "I was wondering if you'd like to go with me? As my date."

Troy kept his eyes on her, "You still wanna do this?"

She nodded her hands shifting as she played with the edges of his Troy's Auto shirt. "There's no one else I trust more than I trust you."

Troy's eyes shifted to hers. "The rules aren't going to change." He said quietly. "I wouldn't mind bending them, but sex is still gonna be off the table till we're both ready."

"Okay," she said, adjusting herself slightly and feeling his shaft pulse beneath her. A small smile tugging at her lips. "I'm still going to idrive you crazy."

"I'm beginning to understand that about you," he said, watching her intensely as she shifted again. This. This was one of the things she loved best about them. How fluidly they shifted between friends to this, whatever the hell this was. It was easy.

He shifted as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes lowering to the swell of her breast, his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth.

"It's a shame we won't be able to have make up sex." she shifted her hips again. "I've always liked make up sex."

He grunted at that, his hands shooting out and grabbing her thighs. "Stop that," he said, his nostril flaring.

Her hands came over his lifting them up and placing them on her breast as she rolled her hips again in triumph at the way his muscles began to bunch underneath her. "I don't like being told what to do."

His lips were on her before she could shift her hips again. His lips crashing into hers and the last of his control slipping away as he brought his hand up her body and into her hair, making her tip her head back, and gently nipping at her neck. It was slow and thorough, but as instantly hot as the heat wave that was still beating down on Payne Springs. All her various body parts came alive.

"I swear to God, Troy if you stop this time."

"I won't," he growled as his hand came down over her behind, the feel of his touch making her inhale sharply.

She leaned forward, her arms wrapping around him, she pressed her body to his. Under his shirt, he felt solid. Manly. Her girlie parts sighed in pleasure and anticipation.

Her soul sighed. Him, it insisted.

He shifted forward gathering her up in his arms as he stood up. Her legs instantly wrapped around his torso as his mouth continued to kiss her skin just above her collarbone. His kiss moved up to her lips rough and hungry for her. As if being apart if only for the day had him starved for her.

"You asked for it," he murmured against her lips.

She let out a moan as he walked them through the hall and to the kitchen where he set her down on the counter top and immediately reached for the hem of her blouse. He tugged on it once and it flew up and over her head tossed somewhere behind them.

Troy

His lips were on her again, kissing her bare skin as his fingers reached down between them and began undoing her pants.

"Shit," the word tumbled out of her mouth as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jean shorts and pulled them down. Enjoying when she eagerly shifted for him allowing him to pull those tiny little denim shorts down and over her ass so he slid them down her legs and over her bare feet. Their eyes never left each other's through the entire process. Using his hands he pushed her back until she was laying on her elbows looking up at him.

Looking down for the first time he took in the sight of her white panties with tiny black polka dots and green lace trim. Everything inside him stilled and he had to close his eyes as he committed the sight to memory. Opening his eyes he lowered himself closer to her.

With his head where he'd fantasized it being night after night, Troy didn't want to move. He didn't want to think about anything but stripping these panties off her and burying his mouth between her legs. Technically, neither of them had specified where a kiss could be placed. So, technically, he could kiss Gabriella the way he wanted. A thin line of justification, but at this point, Troy didn't care. He needed to taste her, touch her, feel her heat against his lips.

He brushed his lips where her panties met the hollow of her thigh. Baby soft and silky smooth, just as he imagined. The urge to lick and nip and kiss had his heart kicking out of tempo. He stilled again, kissing was allowed.

Massaging her hips with his hands, he swept his tongue along her inner thigh. Goosebumps instantly covered her skin. She sighed and widened her legs a fraction.

His arousal thickened as he skimmed his mouth up the soft fabric of her panties. When he reached her belly button, he stopped and raised his head. "Look at me."

She pushed onto her elbows and met his gaze. He sucked in a breath and fought hard to control the hunger, the need, burning inside. Her brown eyes glittered with desire. The rapid rise and fall of her chest drew his attention to her breast, where the tips of her nipples pressed against the flimsy fabric of her bra. When he finally forced his gaze back to hers she cocked a brow and tilted the corner of her mouth. So sultry, so sexy, and, if he wasn't mistaken, she'd just challenged him.

Unable to deny her blatant invitation, he swirled his tongue over her belly button, then nipped her skin. Her only response was a quick intake of breath.

He ran his hand from her calf to her hip and settled his fingers on the green lace trim pulling at it lightly. "I think we could have lots of fun." Troy stood upright as he pulled the scrap of material keeping him from fulfilling his fantasies over her long legs until he was tucking them into his back pocket.

"If you think for one second that I'm going to let you keep those."

Troy ran the tip of his fingers along her skin until he grazed soft curls, "What if I earn them," he murmured. He feathered his fingers into those curls until he found her swollen, slick opening.

She sucked in another breath, raised her hips a fraction, and shifted her eyes to where he worked his fingers. The way she watched him, eyes glimmering, lips parted, had him hard and shaking. But he had a point to prove. One he wanted to make before he took this so-called kiss further.

He inserted his finger. She gasped.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I think we can have lots of fun and I can't wait to see where this leads."

She met his glaze then, "So what are you waiting for?" She pressed herself against his hand. The subtle shift caused his finger to drive deeper.

At this point, he didn't think he could become any harder. But as much as he wanted to have sex with Gabriella, he wouldn't. Otherwise he'd prove nothing to her, or to himself. He refused to be her boy toy and he worried that once he gave her what she desired, a little carefree fun and multiple orgasms, she'd be on her way. Back to her regular routine, her regular life. A life that didn't include him outside of a friendship.

She hitched her hips higher, pressed against his hand.

Then again maybe he should give her a taste of what's to come. Give her the sexual satisfaction she craved. Not to string her along, but to take the edge off and leave her begging for more of his kisses and his kisses alone.

Decision made, he couldn't resist pressing a second finger into her. So tight, so hot, he couldn't wait for the day when he could sink himself into her heat. Not today, though. Today was about her pleasure. And he planned to do everything within their no-sex, kissing-only guidelines, to give her that pleasure.

He drove his fingers deep one last time, slowly he withdrew them and bent his head and kissed her inner thigh, edging his way closer to her soft curls. But sudden pressure in his chest made him pause. This was all wrong. Binding her to him with sex, or even a variation of it, wasn't part of the plan. Rather something he was trying to avoid and the whole reason he'd set up his rule in the first place. But what if she grew bored? What if she sought sexual release from someone else?

Something inside him shattered. The thought of another man, cradled between her thighs, had him more coiled than a slinky and more determined to give her every reason to remain involved with him alone.

Throwing his rules out the window, he licked and sucked her labia, then latched onto her clit.

Gabriella

She groaned. She'd wanted fun, and Troy was giving her exactly what she'd asked for. Her inner thighs trembled, her nipples felt as if they'd stab right through the fabric of her bra. She twined her fingers through his hair and held him between her thighs. She wasn't about to let him go, not until the fun was over. Even then, she wasn't sure if she could. His skillful mouth, his tongue, his lips, she'd never experienced anything more amazing.

Oral sex had never been her thing. She'd never had a problem giving it, but had always seemed to come up short on the receiving end. Not today though. Troy had her mind spiraling, her heart beating out of pace. She couldn't stop a moan from escaping when he inserted his fingers again, then honed in on her clit. Toes curling, she let the moment build, let him work his magic. Then he slid a third finger inside. White-hot heat radiated through her body, coiled in her belly, then burst.

Gabriella lay on the surface of a kitchen counter top she'd never be able to look at the same way again. The house was quiet except for the muted sound of her breathing. She felt Troy leisurely kiss his way up her belly. Caressing her breast with his rough hands, he pressed his lips against her cleavage.

She shuddered and twined her legs around his back, drawing his big body on top of hers. His arousal nudged at her thigh and despite her glorious orgasm he'd given her moments ago, she wanted another. She wanted him.

Running her hand down his back she grabbed the right side of his rear end through his worn denim. Then urged him on by spreading her thighs wider.

He wrapped her ponytail around his hand, eased her head back, and then dragged his lips along her neck and jaw. She groaned. Goosebumps rose over her skin. She melted against him, crushing her breast against his chest.

As he captured her lips in a powerful kiss he worked on untangling his body from hers until he was pulling away and safely holding out a hand behind him until he reached the wall. "I think that's enough fun for tonight."

"Are you sure about this no sex thing?" she said through her panting as she closed her legs, enjoying the new soreness between them.

"Yes. No," he said and chuckled as he slumped against the wall. "Shit."

"You don't sound sure."

Heat simmered in his eyes as he held on to that damn wall for dear life. "I am sure of one thing."

"What's that?" she asked shifting herself so she could come down off the counter, her bare feet landing with a soft thud on the tiled floor.

"I don't think I'll ever get enough of you."

Still feeling boneless and sated from Troy's loving, the seriousness in his tone caught her off guard. She tensed, unsure of his meaning. "Not even after that kiss?" she asked, hoping to keep things light.

He shifted his eyes to her bare bottom half, "Which one?"

Which one? All of them, she wanted to scream. "Well you may have earned them, but I'm not letting you keep my underwear," she said, gripping the counter behind her.

Troy chuckled as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out her crumpled panties. "There'll be other chances," he smirked as he gently tossed them to her.

Gabriella caught them and bent down, quickly redressing herself. Not that being naked in front of him was weird, after what he just did, it seemed foolish to feel modest. Gabriella walked towards her Shirt and plucked it from the floor where he'd tossed it. "Want to order a pizza?"

"Want to kick Blue off the couch and watch a movie or something?"

"Yes!"

That weekend The bonfire crackled and popped, sending embers spiraling into the darkening sky. Gabriella sat on the open tailgate of a truck, legs swinging gently as she sipped her beer. The clearing was alive with laughter, music, and the scent of grilled food wafting through the air. People danced in truck beds, gathered in tight circles by the fire, or whispered in the shadows, sharing the latest gossip of Payne Springs.

Taylor adjusted her cowboy hat, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So," she drawled, her lips curling into a smirk, "breaking your own rules, are we?"

Gabriella chuckled, tipping her beer toward her. "Technically, kissing isn't breaking the rules."

Sharpay burst into laughter, nearly spilling her drink. "Please. With all that kissing and rubbing, your phone's off the hook. You're just setting yourself up for frustration."

"Well," Taylor teased, leaning closer, "at least she's getting further than your little midnight walks in the park."

Sharpay gasped, eyes wide. "Who told you?"

"Honey," Taylor laughed, adjusting her belt buckle, "this is Payne Springs. Everyone knows about you and Zeke. You've been holding hands and giggling like teenagers."

Gabriella nodded in agreement. "Yeah, not exactly a secret when you're practically lighting up the park with all that PDA."

Sharpay groaned, brushing her hair back. "Fine. So what? The wind's blowing like perfume tonight; I couldn't help myself."

Gabriella grinned, nudging her. "So, have you kissed him yet?"

Sharpay's gaze drifted to the bonfire, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "He may not be a chicken, but he has his henhouse ways."

Taylor leaned in, eyes sparkling. "And how do you say goodnight?"

Sharpay blushed, ducking her head. "We hug… sometimes."

Gabriella smirked, raising her beer. "Who's got the phone off the hook now?"

Sharpay rolled her eyes, standing up and smoothing her dress. "At least my guy's civil. Yours thinks a seven-course meal is a possum and a six-pack."

Gabriella and Taylor burst into laughter. "True," Gabriella admitted playfully, "but look who's talking?"

"Oh, please," Taylor laughed, hopping off the tailgate. "Enough of this old lady gossip. Let's dance."

"Old lady?" Sharpay scoffed, leading the way. "I haven't been old a day in my life."

Gabriella followed, snapping her fingers to the beat. "The day you find a grey hair, heaven help us all."

Chad appeared behind Taylor, wrapping an arm around her waist. "What do we have here?"

Taylor beamed up at him. "Thought you were working tonight?"

Chad shrugged, smiling. "I can take a break. Don't want any of these cowboys getting ideas."

As Taylor spun in his arms, Gabriella felt a pang of envy, watching the ease with which they melted into each other. Sharpay leaned in, whispering, "I'm going to find Zeke."

Gabriella nodded, laughing as she adjusted her hat. She wandered through the crowd, enjoying the hum of conversation and the warmth of the fire. Dressed in her jean skirt and pink button-up, she felt at ease among the sea of cowboy hats and belt buckles.

"Gabriella!" Mrs. Patterson called, patting her shoulder. "How are you holding up, dear?"

Gabriella offered a polite smile. "I'm okay."

"You don't have to be strong for me, honey," Mrs. Patterson said gently. "Poor thing, alone with not even a child to keep you company."

Gabriella's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know if that's a bad thing."

"Well, when you're ready to saddle up again, my nephew's coming into town. He's a Marine."

He was also seven years younger than she was. "Thanks, Mrs. P. I'll keep that in mind." Gabriella moved toward the fire, needing its warmth to chase away the chill in her heart.

Tony Robertson handed her a fresh beer. "How you doing, Gabs?"

"Better, thanks," she replied, taking the bottle and sighing.

"Jason isn't giving anymore trouble is he?"

"No." She sighed. "But I'll let you know if Jason reaches out."

Sometimes she didn't know why she even bothered leaving the house. It's pointless trying to forget your troubles in a small town, you practically wore them on your back right next to that big ole sign that read 'ask me how I'm doing?' lifting her new beer she took a long sip and looked into the fire.

The firelight flickered across her face as she took a long sip, her eyes lifting to meet a familiar gaze. Across the flames, a pair of blue eyes locked onto hers, sending a jolt through her. Troy.

His green button up shirt was open revealing his classic grease stained white t-shirt. His wranglers looked clean. His cowboy hat was black. He looked wicked. Sinful. Tempting. She could dig up so many more adjectives to describe that man.

A wave of emotions, raw and unrelenting, washed over her. She tried to steady her breathing, but the voice in the back of her mind wouldn't quiet down.

It should've been him.

The thought echoed, relentless and insistent. Five years ago, when she walked into that bar, she remembered how her heart had skipped a beat when she saw Troy sitting there, his easy smile, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. She had sat down at the table with him and Jason, oblivious to the weight of the decision she was about to make. But now, with the clarity that hindsight brings, she could see it so clearly.

It should've been him.

She should've leaned into him that night. Should've kissed him under the dim lights of the bar, should've let herself fall into his arms instead of Jason's. But she didn't. And the years that followed were a blur of what-ifs and missed chances. She could see it now, an imaginary timeline flashing before her eyes—a life that could have been.

She pictured it all so vividly: her and Troy, dating, falling in love without the baggage of failed marriages and broken hearts. They'd get married in a small ceremony by the lake, buy a modest house on the edge of town, and build a life together. Troy would run the garage, and she'd be happy. They'd have lazy Sundays and wild adventures, quiet moments of contentment and passion.

But that wasn't the life she chose.

Her eyes welled up with tears, the regret and longing threatening to spill over.

Her eyes shifted over him willing herself to push the thoughts aside. What was the point of dwelling on a past she couldn't change? But even as she tried to push it down, the voice whispered again, softer this time, tinged with hope.

It could still be him.

The thought made her heart race, a mix of fear and possibility. That was when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Dooley and I were really sorry to hear about Martha and Jason. We knew something wasn't right. Dooley wanted me to tell you that Jason couldn't pour piss out of a boot with a hole in the toe and the directions on the heel." Sarah, a hair stylist in town, said with kindness in her voice.

It was funny. When she announced her engagement to Jason, everyone had been nothing but supportive and congratulatory.

Where were all these warnings then? All these Jason was as dumb as a box of rocks comments when she could have done something about it? Something like not marrying the cheating son of a bitch.

"I'm alright," Gabriella said with a tight smile, "Divorce was settled over four months ago."

"Bless your heart," Sarah said, placing her hand on Gabriella's shoulder. "Tell ya what, you come on down to the shop and I'll touch up your roots for half price."

Gabriella nodded.

"We'll get you remarried in no time."

Gabriella let out a sigh as she waved goodbye to Sarah. Turning back to the fire she frowned when she didn't see Troy. With another sigh she lifted her beer and took a drink from her bud light just as she turned, almost running into a massive chest. She instantly recognized those defined muscles and big biceps. He grabbed the top of her arm to keep her from topping over.

"How many of those have you had?" Troy asked.

"Not enough." She looked up past Troy's square chin and mouth into his eyes staring back into hers. "This is my second." She glanced about. "Where have you been?"

"Around." He slid his hand down her arm and took her beer from her hand. He swallowed a big drink, and then gave it back. "You seem to be popular this evening."

"I'm divorced and childless, you know how folks panic about that kind of stuff around here," she teased. She took a much smaller drink, then handed it back. "I've even gotten a few offers."

"Anything worth your while?"

"I'm standing here talking to you aren't I?"

Troy smirked, "Good."

Gabriella felt her chest swell a little as she watched him watching her closely. She liked the way he watched her. She grinned, "Why aren't you somewhere charming a redhead out of her training bra?"

He chuckled, low and masculine and completely at ease before taking a sip and handing her the bottle, "cause at the moment I'm charming a pretty little brunette."

"That's just cheesy." She took a drink, then handed him the bottle. "I should warn you, I haven't worn a training bra in a long time."

"I'll manage." His gaze slid to hers and he raised the bottle to his lips.

"You know, if you keep looking at me like that, people might think you actually like me or something." She warned.

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation. Maybe I should look away?" He said with a grin. His eyes never leaving hers.

Gabriella smiled playfully, taking the bottle back from him. "Oh, definitely. Wouldn't want the whole town to start gossiping about us."

Leaning in closer he shrugged as she took a sip. "Too late. I heard the rumor mill is already spinning."

"Oh really?" She raised a brow holding out the beer again. "And what exactly are they saying?"

"Apparently, there's this girl who can't stop flirting with me." He said in mock seriousness.

She laughed at that. "Flirting? You call this flirting? Please, I'm just being friendly."

"If this is you being friendly, I'd love to see what flirting looks like." He teased playfully before draining the last of the beer.

"You couldn't handle it."

"Try me."

She let out a huff and as he reached over and tossed the empty bottle into the bin just a few feet away. "In all seriousness, people are probably gonna talk no matter what we do."

He shrugged, "probably right about that." He placed a hand beneath her chin and raised her face to the light. "You look real pretty tonight."

She looked into the eyes of this man she hardly even knew anymore. "Thank you." Her gaze slid to his chin, and her stomach kind of felt weird. Maybe it was chugging that beer.

He tilted her face a bit more, "Want to dance?"

"You know if we do that, there'll be a new string of gossip rolling though this town by morning."

"You worried about your southern belle reputation?" he asked, dipping low to see her clearly underneath her hat.

Gabriella bit her tongue; she was just a little bit, seeing as how her name was already being dragged through the mud. "Not entirely. I mean people know we're good friends. Brother and sister like even. You've always treated me that way."

He smiled and his teeth flashed a bright white in the darkness, "There's no way you can think we have anything close to a brother-sister relationship after last night. But in case you need a little reminder…" he pulled her into his arms, lowered his head and captured her mouth with his.

Gabriella was instantly dizzy from his kiss, her hands came up to his arms to steady herself against him as he continued to thoroughly taste her.

When he pulled away from her, she was breathless, a little caught off guard and surrounded by the lingering warmth of his scent. He was dangerous. Deep down a part of her had known it, but she never was on the other side of his attention the way other women had. She'd always been safely tucked away into that cushy friend zone that kept their relationship clean cut and simple. Now that the lines had been blurred she felt like she should have been warned.

"Wow," she whispered, gently touching her lips with the tip of her fingers, "I can't believe you just did that."

"I did," he grinned wickedly. "Hell, I'm fighting the urge to do it again. Your lips taste good tonight."

She couldn't help but laugh. "You don't taste to bad yourself"

"Have you ever gone for a ride on a tractor?"

"No," she said with a grin

Troy reached for her hand, pulling her to him, "Do you want to?"

"Is tractor being used as a metaphor?"

He laughed, shaking his head and turning to walk his hand tugging her along. And she went with him willingingly. There was no doubt about it, by tomorrow morning there'd be talk. She'd be part of the latest Troy Bolton Trophy case. People would probably think they'd been going at it for years, they might even have them married or pregnant by noon. One thing was for certain.

She didn't give a rat's ass.

Troy

Gabriella laughed, holding onto her hat as they cruised down the dark country road. "Where did you learn to drive one of these?" she asked, leaning into Troy for balance. With limited space, she was perched on his lap, her left hand resting on his thigh to steady herself.

Troy shifted gears and guided the tractor off the road onto the grassy path. "I'm a country boy," he replied with a grin. "My grandfather had one. Jason and I used to ride it all the time."

As the terrain grew bumpier, Gabriella leaned in closer, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath her. He was every bit the rugged man in his worn jeans and stained shirt. "Do you miss him?" she asked softly, keeping her gaze steady.

Troy adjusted the headlight, his jaw tightening as he navigated towards a clearing. "Who?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"Jason," she said, her eyes fixed on the small creek ahead.

He parked the tractor by a tree, cutting the engine and staring at the water. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken memories. They rarely talked about Jason, especially the fallout. She knew she was a part of the divide, though Troy never blamed her.

Gabriella shifted uncomfortably. "I know you two were close. Before me, I mean."

"You didn't break us up," Troy said, a soft chuckle escaping as he rested his hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. The simple touch sent a shiver through her, her mind racing with thoughts of their kiss by the bonfire, the feel of his hands exploring more than just her leg.

Her pulse quickened, but she fought to appear composed. "It's just… I feel like I came between you two."

Troy shook his head. "Jason and I drifted apart long before you. It wasn't about you."

Gabriella exhaled, trying to slow her racing heart. "What happened?"

"He just changed," Troy said, his gaze distant. "One day, we were working on cars together. We were side by side in the thick of it. Then everything changed, business picked up, we started turning a profit and then… I don't know," Troy said with huff, "he just started acting like he didn't need me anymore."

"So, why keep trying?"

He shrugged. "When you've known someone that long, it's hard to stop."

Gabriella studied his face, appreciating his honesty. "I don't think I've ever verbally thanked you for everything you've done for me." She glanced at the peaceful creek. "I can handle myself for the most part, but it's nice knowing you're here. Makes me feel taken care of. And it's been a long time since I've felt that way." She said that last part with a laugh.

"I'll always be here," Troy murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Anything to make you happy."

His lips sent a pleasant shiver through her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he said, his eyes meeting hers.

Her hand covered his, tracing the rough lines of his knuckles, memories of their closeness flooding back. "Why are we friends? Besides me being the girl at the front desk?"

Troy chuckled. "You make me laugh. You make me think. You're way more than just the girl at the front desk. You're great at the garage. Some would even say you're the brains behind the operation. You're sweeter than most folks around here. Like a tall glass of the best sweet iced tea."

Gabriella wrinkled her nose. "I hate sweet iced tea."

Troy laughed, teasing, "Careful, or people might think you've got cobwebs in the attic."

Smiling, Gabriella looked back at the creek. "So, does this count as a date?"

Troy's gaze softened. "So we're calling them dates now?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're something else, you know that?"

Troy

They were quiet for a moment as they both watched the water. Troy leaned back against the seat, Gabriella nestled in his lap. The gentle lapping of water against the creek's edge created a soothing backdrop, a stark contrast to the lively chaos of the tailgate party they'd left behind. He felt the weight of her against him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder, and he savored the peaceful intimacy of the moment.

He could die happy tomorrow if this was the last memory he got to have. Being able to touch her like this, hold her close and be completely at ease.

She played with the bim of her hat as it rested in her lap. "Do you think my roots are bad?"

"My roots are probably the worst," he said jokingly. "My uncle on my mom's side has been in and out of jail most of his twenties."

She let out a laugh, "I was talking about my hair."

He huffed at that. "I think her hair looks fine."

"As if you would know," she mumbled with amusement. "You're too busy trying to peek at my bra straps."

"Well yeah," he said as if that were the only obvious answer. "You rather I didn't notice that lacey light blue number you got on. Been wondering if the panties match for the last hour or so." It really was driving him nuts. He wasn't sure when exactly she'd snuck a bag of lingerie into the house but she had. Not that he made a habit of trying to get a peek at her underwear before but he noticed a notable difference in her lacey collection.

"Guess you'll just have to check for yourself."

At that he groaned. She had no idea how much he wanted to do just that, right now. His eyes shifted down towards the opening of her button up top, he could see the lacey cup of her bra winking at him. He needed to change the topic.

"Tell me something about you I don't know?" Troy asked, his voice low and gentle, cutting through the quiet. "Something not sexual." He amended quickly.

She giggled. "Like what?"

"Anything," he shrugged. "Tell me about something you're passionate about."

Gabriella tilted her head slightly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I kinda wrote a book once, I started writing because of my mom. Most dementia and Alzheimer's patients respond to photos or music, but my mom didn't respond to anything except the sound of my voice. So to help her remember and to keep her engaged in the present, I wrote the story of her courtship with my dad and read it out loud to her." She was quiet for a moment. "I keep the original copy of it in my desk drawer and read it every anniversary."

"Wow." Troy raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not wanting to push. "That's really beautiful," he said, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. "Is that why you're always working on your laptop? You're writing?"

She hesitated, and he sensed there was more to the story, a deeper layer she wasn't ready to share. "Yeah," she said softly.

Deciding not to push further, he let the moment linger, basking in the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

After a while, he asked, "Why my doorstep?"

She shifted slightly. "What do you mean?"

"That night, when you left him? You could've knocked on any door in town, and they would've taken you in without a second thought. Why drive across town to mine?"

Gabriella's gaze drifted out over the water, lost in the memory. "Because you were the closest thing I had to a best friend outside of Martha, Taylor, and Sharpay. After everything happened, it was hard for me to trust anyone. I needed to be with someone who wouldn't make a fuss or make me feel like I had to walk on eggshells. I wanted to feel safe, and you were the first person I thought of—the only really, one whoever made me feel safe."

Troy's chest tightened at her words. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "I'm glad you came to me," he whispered.

Gabriella's eyes met his, a soft glow of gratitude and something deeper shining in them. "So am I."

For a while longer, they sat there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other's presence.

Gabriella

Later that night she couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up inside her as he pressed her against the surface of their front door.

"We're acting like teenagers, you know that right?" She mumbled against his lips. He felt so good press against her body, so sturdy and warm in contrast to the cool breeze on the night air.

He chuckled as he left her lips and began kissing down her neck. "You make me feel like a teenage boy again." He whispered, his arms caging her in now. As if she had any desire to escape this man.

Her eyes fluttered as he found that patch of skin on her lower neck that made her knees weak. Ever since he found it in Sharpay's bathroom he'd taken advantage of it every chance he could. Not that she would ever complain.

Jason hadn't even been that attentive. He'd gloss over it a time or two every so often but rarely had he ever gone out of his way to make a full on assault to her resolve the way Troy had.

For a timeless moment, heat flooded her body in a way it had only come to know since Troy. It was as if he had this special matchstick when it came to her. And Lord help her he wasn't even using his hands at the moment. His lips moved down to the top of her breast which suddenly felt tender and the area between her thighs began to throb. How could one man's kiss deliver so much pleasure? Elicit thoughts so dirty?

She's never fantasized about being taken up against her front door until this very moment. Hell she never fantasized about having sex in her kitchen before either, yet here she was hoping he'd feel like a repeat performance from the other night.

She was turning into some sex crazed groupie, And she'd yet to actually have the sex. Thought of his big strong body over her, plunging inside her and murmuring dirty things into her ear made a moan slip out from her lips.

"I love how responsive you are," he said, coming back up to her lips. "When you moan like that I feel like I just scored a touchdown." His hands came down over her breast groping her with abandon.

It was two in the morning and there wasn't a soul outside but the act still made her feel naughty. As if she was back in high school making out against her locker. Trying to be coy and modest while he explored her limits.

"I was never the cheerleading type but for you, I could be." She teased. "I'd wear the uniform and everything."

He groaned as he covered her mouth with his own. She shifted using her hands to grip his shoulders as he began mating with her mouth with an intensity and hunger that made her stomach muscles quiver. It was a tingling sensation she felt all the way to her toes. She felt herself becoming feverish, hot and needy. When it came to a man, she'd never been needy.

He wasn't holding back on anything and his tongue was playing havoc with her senses in the process. It was a work of art, a sensuous skill. His mouth seemed to fit hers perfectly, no matter what angle he took. And the more it plowed her mouth hungrily, the more every part of her body came alive in a way she wasn't used to.

She'd heard of people being physically attracted to each other to the point of lust consuming their mind and thoughts, but such a thing had never happened to her. Until now she'd only written about feelings like this.

Why was it happening at all? What was it about Troy, other than the obvious that had her in such a tizzy? Why did she suddenly want things she hadn't wanted before?

He pulled away hesitantly. "We should go in. Blue is probably losing his mind."

She smiled at the mention of Blue. "He likes you."

"I like him too," Troy said as he righted her shirt. "You have a great dog, it's the only reason why I let you move in," he added playfully.

"I bet."

Once they were inside they were greeted by Blue who was over the moon to see them. His tail wagged fiercely back and forth as he morphed into puppy all over again. Troy was on his knees giving him a good scratch behind the ears and not before long Blue was on his back getting his belly rubs in.

"I think you're forgiven." She teased as she smiled at Blue's relaxed nature. His paws in the air blissfully clam in his surrender to Troy's touch.

She knew the feeling.

"I think you're right." He laughed softly as continued rubbing Blue's belly. "He would have loved that creek. We should take him there sometime. Let him run around and get covered in mud."

"As long as we take your truck." Gabriella nodded, her eyes finding the clock on the stove. It was closer to three in the morning now. And yet she still felt wired. Like she could stay up late and write for hours more before falling asleep. Her fingertips felt the anxious energy as ideas began to consume her, ideas for her characters, ideas about tractor riding, stolen kisses, and bonfires. Then there was the sound of it all, a song from the tailgate ringing on repeat in her head. It all meant something. There was a chapter or two just in all the flashes racking around in her brain. It took everything inside her to keep her hands steady. To stay put and not run upstairs to her laptop.

She chewed on her bottom lip, she almost told him the truth today. About her writing, about her books, her career, this double life she was living. Guilt pulled at her, she needed to tell him. She needed to come clean about her writing. About the story she was weaving now, about them. About getting a second chance to fall in love again and discovering it all over like it was the first time.

She stilled.

Was she falling in love with him?

"I can't believe how late it is," Troy said, sitting upright much to Blue's disappointment.

"You should go to bed," She mumbled, placing her hat on the counter top. "It's been a long day."

Troy nodded, getting up from the ground, and coming over to where she was standing. He came so close that his body's gravity tugged at hers, making her waver. "What about you?" he asked.

"Are you inviting me?" she joked softly.

He leaned against her and she shifted her weight into him, unable to resist it. "You don't know how tempting that is."

She shifted in his arms leaning up to meet his lips. The moment she felt his tongue invade her mouth, she knew he would be kissing her senseless. The sensations started at her toes and worked their way up to the top of her head. Sensations that had lingered in her lower half, causing the area between her legs to undergo all kinds of turbulent feelings and her heart all kinds of unfamiliar emotions.

This kiss was just as deadly, even more potent than the last, and her head began swimming in passion. She felt that drowning would soon follow. Blood rushed fast and furiously, through her veins with every stroke of his tongue. He was lapping her up in a way that had her entire body shuddering from the inside out.

She felt the arms around her waist tighten and when he shifted their positions she felt something else, the thick hardness behind the zipper of his jeans. When she moved her hip and felt his hard muscles aligned with her curves, the denim of his jeans rubbing against her bare legs, she moaned deep in her throat.

"We should stop," he whispered against her lips, tasting the corners of her mouth while moaning deep in his throat from how good she tasted.

"Not yet," she said in a purr that conveyed a little catch in her breathing.

"Rules." he said simply as he pulled away his eyes watching her tenderly.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the quiet space. Gabriella leaned against the counter, her lips still tingling from the kiss they had shared moments ago. Troy stood across from her, his eyes warm yet filled with a quiet intensity. Her heart raced as she realized how much she enjoyed being close to him, how her feelings for him were beginning to take shape in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Troy cleared his throat, trying to break the tension with a gentle smile. "Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice low and tender.

Gabriella thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I could eat."

He grinned, moving to the stove and pulling out a tortilla from a bag on the counter. "Cheese quesadillas okay?"

She watched him as he moved, his hands deft and sure. He opened the fridge and took out a few bags of ingredients. There was something comforting about the way he took care of her, even in these small, simple ways. He sprinkled a generous handful of cheese onto the tortilla and then glanced at her, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

"Do you ever wonder about your life?" he asked, his tone casual, though there was an undertone of something deeper.

Gabriella turned around, reaching into the bag of cheese. "What do you mean?"

Troy's eyes softened as he focused on the tortilla in the pan. "Like, do you think about other things you could be doing? Rather than being here?" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Rather than just being the girl at the front desk."

Her hand froze momentarily, a frown creasing her brow. She glanced over at him, then quickly turned back to the small bit of cheese she had lifted her mouth. "When I said that it wasn't a bad thing. Heck, I like being the girl at the front desk." The girl behind the front desk practically ran the office side of the business. And she was good at it. At least she thought she was?

"You're not about to fire me are you?"

"No." Troy shook his head a smirk on his lips. "I don't think I lose another member of the team like that."

"Do you think we need to hire someone else?"

Troy let out a sigh, "No, the work is steady, I kind of like moving at my own pace."

She smiled at that.

"Still," Troy shrugged. "I know you only got involved with the garage because of Jason. I wouldn't want you to feel obligated to-"

"Troy, it's not like that at all."

"Then what is it like?" He glanced back at her as he cocked a hip on the counter, he reached for a bag of diced peppers and opened it, his gaze returning to her. "I'm sure you had a life and dreams before you came to Payne Springs, before the garage, before…" His voice trailed off as he turned back to the stove.

Gabriella's stomach tightened. "You're right," she watched as he sprinkled the peppers over the cheese, folding the tortilla over and lowering the flame. "I did have a life before I came here. And as I've told you and Jason before, coming here was a fresh start."

Troy's voice was gentle but firm as he reached for a spatula. "Dreams don't just go away."

She shook her head, her frown deepening. "Yeah, well, they sure as shit don't turn out like you planned either. Jason made sure of that."

Gabriella knew she couldn't keep the truth from Troy much longer. She wanted to come clean, to tell him about her ownership of the garage, because she was committed to it, to them. This wasn't just some fallback or temporary stop; it was the life she wanted. Working alongside him every day, pouring herself into the shop, and spending her nights lost in her writing—this was exactly where she wanted to be.

He reached out, turning off the stove and taking the plate from a nearby cabinet, setting it gently on the countertop. He made work of plating the quesadillas and then cutting it in half. Then he turned back to her, putting the offering in front of her.

Gabriella let out a soft breath. "Troy, at the moment, I'm exactly where I want to be. I loved this life, and I need you to know that this investment in the garage; it's a reflection of my belief in our future, in the home and partnership we're creating together."

He studied her carefully. "And what about three years from now? Will you want to leave? Maybe you'll want something else? Or get tired of working for Jason at the garage? Have you thought about any of this?"

Gabriella frowned, the weight of his questions settling heavily. "No, but obviously you have."

"Not until tonight." He lifted a finger to tilt her chin up, his eyes earnest. "Gabriella, I'm serious."

"So am I." She gave a small shrug. "I'm pretty set in my ways as it is. I like it here in Payne Springs."

Troy's brow furrowed. "Your truck broke down in Payne Springs. Where were you going before that?"

"You know I have nowhere else to go," she said, her shoulders falling slightly. "Why are you asking me all of this?"

"Because I need you to think about what you're asking for," Troy said, his voice tinged with vulnerability, clearly surprised by her retreat.

"I have thought of it," she said quietly, meeting his gaze. "I've been thinking about it for a while now, which is why I didn't want to make this personal. Did it ever occur to you that opening up to someone after going through what I did was going to be hard? That's the whole reason I came to you. Because if I was going to be intimate with anyone it was gonna be with someone I already trusted and cared about."

She needed to set the boundaries because clearly they were becoming blurred. She needed to protect the ground rules that would let her get out of this with her heart and her pride intact if things didn't work out. As she already suspected given her history, they would not.

He frowned. "That right?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I was honest with you, I'm not looking for a boyfriend or a lover. I came to you because you're my person and I trust you out of everyone else not to hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"No, you're just going to make me question everything about my life and make me feel like a crazy person for wanting to have sex with you."

Troy

Fuck it. Aching need swallowed him in the silence that followed. His hand fisted at his sides. He wanted to take her, to take her and have it over with. Deep inside, he knew what would happen. End it himself tonight, and the desire would be back by morning. Or likely sooner. She'd opened the door to this. She was there just waiting for him to say yes.

Why was he imagining it over and over with that wall between them at night when he could damn well have the real thing?

It wasn't how he'd wanted her, but it was a start.

He flattened his hand and placed it on the counter top, but his fingers curled with the need to hold her. Troy took a step towards her and she took a step back, he stopped and a small grin pulled at his lips. "Scared?"

"I don't know. What are you doing?"

"Giving you what you want," he said, taking another step towards her, "I really hope you don't like that shirt."

Before Gabriella could answer he had grabbed the top and ripped the shirt open popping a button or two off in the process and exposing her light blue bra. Her brown eyes were wide as she stared up at him, but he didn't hold her glaze long, as he was lost in the curves of her semi naked body. She was made of nothing but soft and rounded edges. Of all the women he'd ever had, he couldn't remember one ever looking so… ripe.

"You owe me for that," she mumbled.

"And I'll pay up," he responded as he pushed the shirt down over her shoulders until it fell to the floor, he looked down to watch as her breast rose and fell with her breathing. They looked heavy and full, he stepped forward and cupped them. Soft, plush weight filled his palms and he squeezed tighter. His right hand loosened and wrapped around her easily undoing the clasp with little to no effort at all.

She gasped and arched her back, thrusting her breast forward watching him as he slowly hooked his thumbs in the straps and pulled them from her shoulders. Once the bra was tossed to the side she brought her hand up to the buttons of her skirt pausing when his hand came over hers. "We might be doing this on your terms but we're still doing it my way."

"I don't-"

"I want to strip your clothes off you."

"Oh," the sound of her voice was breathless, almost faint. The surprised look on her face was priceless.

He reached and let his thumbs roll over her nipples which were begging to be kissed. She gasped and arched her back thrusting them more fully into his grasp. Closer to his mouth. He bent so that the hardened tip of her nipple was at his lips. He gave them a chaste kiss of affection.

His eyes watched her lips part as she panted. There was a faint blush of red that seemed to color her cheeks, and her eyes were hazy. He ranked his thumb across her pointed tips and savored her sharp inhale. He pressed a kiss to the top of one plump swell.

Her hands slipped around his neck as he closed his mouth over the tiny peak and drew her in. Her hands threaded through his hair and clutched, pulling him tighter against her chest. Her nails raked over his scalp, and the tingle from her touch dropped down his spine. He sucked her hard and nipped at her tip until she cried out and clawed at his shirt.

Pulling away he reached for the hems of his shirt and tugged at it until it was up and over his head. Tossing it to the side he reached for the button of her skirt. Popping the button free and then slowly tugging down the zipper. Only instead of pushing them down he reached down for the hem of the denim material and hitched it up, revealing her matching baby blue skimpy panties.

Without saying a word he slowly began easing her panties down her thighs and her luscious scent began playing havoc with his nostrils as he did so. As soon as she was out of them he tossed her panties to the side as well and his hands eased back between her legs, slowly coming back up the inside of her thigh bringing back memories of the other night.

His mouth watered.

"I'm going to bend you over this counter and fuck you. I'm going drive into you until you come apart and you can't hold your head up. You're going to be limp in my arms, at my mercy."

Her breath hitched and he just hoped to God he'd hold off long enough to deliver on his word. He wanted this for her more than himself. He needed this moment to be a clear memory so when she thought of sex, she'd want him.

He undid his own pants shoving them down but not before reaching into his back pocket, stealing a foil packet first.

Gabriella

He had muscular thighs and a nice pair of hairy legs. The way his briefs fit his body had her shuddering when she should have been blushing. Gabriella watched as Troy tore open the packet, her eyes glazed over almost as if she was caught in the moment, not able to believe that any of this was real. She felt no shame in staring at him. The only thing she could think of at the moment was that her country boy was very sexy.

Her country boy?

She couldn't believe her mind had conjured up such a thought. Her mouth was dry, her breast ached for his touch, and the loss of his attention was driving her crazy. As soon as he pushed his briefs down exposing himself to her she felt her breast grow achy as she stared at him. He seemed to get larger right before her eyes. She caught her lip between her teeth and tried not to clamp down too hard. But he had to be, without a doubt, in addition to being totally aroused and powerfully male, the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

He tossed the condom wrapper onto the countertop behind him. Sheathing himself he let out a small sigh and looked up at her with a small smile, "Come here."

She did as she was told, coming to him within the instant and enjoying his searing kiss on her lips as his hands shifted underneath her hair, holding her head to his and not allowing her to take a step back. Not that she would ever want to.

Troy

His hand shifted downwards pushing her away from him and positioning her at the counter with her palms flat on the cool surface. His hands slowly moved her hair out of the way, allowing him access to her neck, and allowing him to taste her.

He wanted her to be his in more ways than just for this night, but he would take what he could get. He listened to her sigh under his touch as he continued to suck on her shoulder, knowing he was leaving a mark. But it was his mark. After this was over tomorrow, she would have that looking back at her in the mirror and the best he could hope for was that she'd want him again. And he'd keep marking her if it kept her coming back.

Finally pulling away he gently pushed her downward until she was bent over, leg parted, ready and waiting for him. He didn't have enough hands to touch her all over as fast and thoroughly as he wanted, but he did his best, keeping in mind this moment was for her, not him.

Without giving her time to release her breath, he centered himself and thrusted into her in one long, hard push until he couldn't anymore.

Her head dropped down as a low rumbling groan erupted from her. Her hands reached out grabbing the edges of the kitchen counter now, but he didn't relent. Pulling back, he thrusted into her sweet, tight entrance again. When all he wanted to do was seat himself completely and savor the feel of her stretched around him, he plunged harder.

"Oh Shit," she muttered. "Troy."

He pulled out and pressed in hard, fast, and deep. Her thighs trembling as she moaned his name under her breath. His hands were firm on her hips as he pounded into her rocking her back and forth a little over his hard cock that felt as if it might explode at any moment. His hands came up her body pulling her up to him making her arch so that he could fill her completely and at the same time and have his hands on her breast.

His weight was hitting against her, her ass knocking into his front, but he kept going, kept feeling her squeeze around him everywhere.

A ball of pleasure gathered deep inside him. Sweat dotted his brow, but he didn't stop as she came apart in his arms, head thrown back as she cried ripped from her throat, her breast pushed into his hands even further. She froze. Her release sucked his cock, milking it, coaching it to release, but he held off. This was her night, he was going to make it one to remember.

Reaching his hand forward and down he found her clit with his fingers and quickly but gently went to work in prolonging her orgasm. Her whimpering cries sang out of her over and over. Squeezing him tighter and pulling him in, taking him deeper.

His name hissed out of her lips and he was over with. A haze of nothing but Gabriella rolled though his mind. The high color of her cheeks and fiery passion of her body bolted through him with a sharp intensity that drew out his orgasm. Release shuddered though him, taking his strength, numbing his legs. His knees buckled and he placed his hands on her hips to catch himself. He hugged her body to him and lowered so he wouldn't fall over as air evaded him.

It had never been like that before, but then he'd never been with Gabriella before either.

"Oh my god," Gabriella was first to speak.

"Regrets?"

"None." She swallowed and took another breath.

"Good," feeling was coming back to him as he straightened, "you get what you wanted?"

"Troy," she whispered, a hint of worry in her voice.

Troy withdrew from her body and he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Did you get what you wanted?" he whispered this time right into her ear as his right hand fondled her chest.

"Troy, that was so good."

"Good. Because it's my turn."

He bent down to swoop her up into his arms and she let out a shriek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Then he promptly carried her upstairs.

Gabriella

The early rays of sunlight across her face made Gabriella open her eyes and she immediately felt the hard muscular body sleeping beside her. Troy's leg was thrown over hers and his arms were wrapped around her middle. They were both naked, and by the sounds of his breathing, he was still sleeping.

The man was… amazing. Last night he carried her all the way to the bathroom where they took a warm shower together. His hands had worked magic shampooing and conditioning her hair with a gentle kindness she had never expected. Of course, when they were both clean he then led her to his bed where they made love two more times before drifting off into a quiet slumber.

She drew in a deep breath, wondering which part of her was sorer, the area between her legs or her breast. Troy had given special attention to both areas through most of their sessions.

Deciding to get more sleep, she closed her eyes and immediately saw visions of them together. But it wasn't a recent image. She looked older and so did he and there were kids around. Whose kids were they? Certainly not theirs. Otherwise that would mean…

Her eyes sprang open, refusing to let such an apparition enter her mind. She would be the first to admit that what they'd shared last night had overwhelmed her, and for a moment she'd come close to challenging everything she believed about relationships between men and women. But the last thing she needed to do was get off-track. Last night was what it was, really good sex. And that was it.

"Are you awake?" Troy's voice sent sensations running across her skin.

"Who wants to know?"

"The man who made love to you last night."

She shifted her body, turned to face him and immediately wished she hadn't. Fully awake he was sexy as sin. A half asleep Troy, with a stubble chin, drowsy eyes and long eyelashes, could make you come just looking at him.

"You are the one who did that to me last night, aren't you?"

A smile curved his lips, "I'm the one who plans to do that to you every night."

She chuckled, knowing he only meant until he got bored with her. Shifting she sat up a little to find Blue quietly resting at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry we took over your bed," she winced, shifting more so and bringing the blanket up with her to cover her chest. Jason used to hate it when Blue snuck into the bed with them, in fact throughout her marriage they slept with the bedroom door shut and Blue devotedly on the other side.

"Don't be," Troy shifted so that he was watching her, "I don't mind."

Gabriella lifted a hand to sooth her hair, suddenly aware of the fact that while he was looking gorgeous, her own appearance must be dreadful. Her morning hair never looked decent; in fact she never went to bed without pulling it back into a ponytail. Not that she had the option last night.

"I should really go," she murmured, "I need to get ready for work."

Troy chuckled as he placed a hand over her midsection, "It's Sunday."

"Oh," Gabriella looked down at his hand. "Then I should go so you can sleep."

"How about you stay and I give you a foot rub?"

Gabriella began nibbling on her bottom lip. She needed to work on her book, usually she did that in the early mornings when he was still sleeping. She already had so many things she wanted to write about so many things she wanted to call Sharpay and talk about. How was she going to get out of bed when he was asking her to stay and tempting her with foot rubs? A weakness he knew damn well she couldn't resist.

Maybe she should just tell him?

As soon as the thought came to mind she mentally shook herself. Don't be stupid. Now was not the time to tell him about Brie Carmicheal. But if not now, then when? When was the right time to tell the man you were sleeping with that you wrote books about falling in love with him, and you were in the middle of a really life changing project that was making you rethink everything. That was making you hope and dream again.

"Let me do that."

She lifted her gaze to his eyes when he interrupted her thoughts. "Let you do what?"

"This."

He leaned closer and began gently nibbling on her lips, then licking her mouth from corner to corner teasingly. When her lips parted on a breathless sigh, he entered her mouth to taste her fully. The kiss grew deeper, hotter and moments later when he pulled his mouth away he placed his fingers to her lips to silence her protest. "Stay."

When she finally nodded his lips curved into a wicked smile.

They didn't leave his bed until somewhere around noon and when she was finally free she gathered her laptop and Blue to head over to Sharpay's house. Needing distance to steady the butterflies in her stomach, time to process what happened last night without watching a shirtless Troy walking around tempting her with his smiles and touches.

"So let me get this straight," Sharpay said, hopping up onto the kitchen counter and twisting the cap on her water bottle. "He just took over?"

Gabriella cradled her cup of coffee at the kitchen table where she sat, "Yes." She still couldn't believe what happened herself. She didn't know where to start analyzing. From the point of having sex in the kitchen over the very counter she ate at, actually spending the night in Troy's bed or spending the entire morning there.

"Well?"

Gabriella looked over at Sharpay, "Well what?"

Sharpay laughed. "Why aren't you throwing your hat over a windmill or something?" Sharpay said leaning over taking a muffin from bowl she sat out. "You had sex, great sex, and he practically worshiped you all morning long. Why do you look like you just chewed on twine?"

"I have to tell him the truth."

"Which part?" Sharpay frowned.

"About Brie Carmichael," Gabriella said with a wince. "And about the garage." She looked back at her laptop on the table then at Blue who was resting on the floor between them shifting his head from one paw to the other as he drifted back off to sleep.

"Has Jason said anything?" Sharpay asked curiously.

"No," Gabriella shrugged, "And I'm not sure how to tell him, he was asking all kinds of questions about me and what I wanted to do with my life. I didn't know what to tell him."

Sharpay was quiet as she lifted her water bottle up to her lips.

"And writing is such a large part of who I am, I just feel like I've been hiding it for so long that if I told him…" her voice drifted as she thought of the worst, best, and craziest endings for the scenario in her head. "I mean Jason-"

"Screw Jason." Sharpay rolled her eyes and crossed her left arm under her breast. "Jason was a jerk, an idiot, and a cheat. He took advantage of you Gabriella."

"Exactly my point," Gabriella muttered. "I've done this before, when I told Jason about it he was only interested in the money. I don't think he ever respected me. He made fun of writing constantly and in the end I think he felt like I emasculated him."

"Troy isn't Jason, don't confuse sir sex-a-lot with sir cheating-money-stealing-prick."

Gabriella leaned back in her chair tucking a loose strain from her ponytail back behind her ear. "I've been lying to him all this time, and the more I think about it, writing this book feels wrong. Like it's too personal. It's different this time writing about him."

"Whoa? You wrote about Troy before?"

Gabriella bit her lip as she looked down at her laptop with guilt. It hit Gabriella slowly, like the unraveling of a tangled thread, one revelation pulling at the next until the truth was glaring back at her. Maybe she was never really writing about Jason as much as she wanted to believe she was.

In her heart, she had clung to the idea that her leading men—their charm, their ambition, their flaws—were reflections of the man she had built her life with. But the more time she spent with Troy, the more those lines blurred. His wit, his easy confidence, the way he carried himself like the world couldn't knock him down—those were the qualities that had seeped into her characters, almost without her realizing it. She had been so focused on holding onto the life she thought she was supposed to want that she hadn't allowed herself to see the truth in her own words.

Troy wasn't just inspiration; he was the muse she hadn't dared to admit she had all along. And now, the idea that she might have been writing about him from the start terrified her as much as it thrilled her. What did that say about the choices she'd made? About the life she'd been living? About the future she was too afraid to dream of?

"Gabriella?" Sharpay chided, jumping down from the countertop and opening the cabinets to retrieve a wine glass. "You've written about him before this?"

Gabriella stood up wrapping her arms around herself and letting out a sigh, "I've been writing about Troy for years."

"How?" Sharpay reached for a bottle of wine and popped the cork, "Are you sure you just want coffee?"

"It's Sunday," Gabriella said, letting her hands fall to her side.

"So what? Jesus drank wine, I'm sure we'd have been drinking buddies. Tell me more about your Troy infatuation."

Gabriella swallowed hard, her lips pulled into a self-deprecating smile. "Heart under The Hood, about the woman who's new to town and falls in love with the mechanic."

"Jason." Sharpay said pointedly. "That's who you based Jack Briggs on."

She shook her head. "Troy," Gabriella sighed in defeat. How had she not seen it back then? The male lead in that book had practically been Troy in disguise. He'd had the same quiet strength, the same rugged good looks, the same way of showing up for people without making a show of it. Even his dry sense of humor had been lifted straight from Troy's offhand remarks during late nights at the garage.

Her fingers brushed over her lips, as the memories flittered past. She'd unconsciously collected bits of him. A sharp retort here, a wry observation there. She remembered overhearing him bantering with Jason one day about a busted alternator, turning what should've been an ordinary complaint into a full-blown story about a "cursed car" that seemed to resist repair. She'd scribbled his exact phrasing in the margin of her notebook, and later, that same wit had made its way into Jack's mouth. The laid-back mechanic with a knack for spinning tales.

And it wasn't just the jokes or the clever remarks. There were deeper moments, too. Like the time she overheard him comforting a young customer who'd just gotten their first flat tire, his tone warm and steady as he reassured them they'd be back on the road in no time. She'd used that voice, that sense of calm authority, when crafting one for Jack Briggs. Troy had unknowingly been a well of inspiration, his words echoing through the pages of her stories long before she even realized she'd been listening so closely. And now, with every memory, it became harder to deny that maybe Troy had always been more than just a background character in her life.

What she had dismissed as a harmless crush had been her pouring her feelings for Troy into the pages of her stories? Her bestsellers—praised for their authentic, swoon-worthy male leads—were all versions of the same man. Troy.

No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise. No matter how much she made the male lead look like Jason. Guilt wiggled its way into her mind. Now that she thought about it, every one of her heroes carried some piece of Troy. The protective streak. The dependable nature. The quiet confidence that made her feel safe just by being in the same room. Her characters were all fragments of the man who'd always been there, quietly standing in the background.

She explained this to Sharpay, going over some of the details that were now staring right at her.

"Well. Shit." Sharpay said, lifting her wine glass to her lips.

Gabriella pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to will away the heat rising to her cheeks. God, had she been fantasizing about him all this time? Oh God, this was almost embarrassing.

"I just assumed all that sexual tension was an inspiration from your marriage."

"More like an escape from it," she said quietly.

Her breath hitched as she leaned back in her chair. The truth was inescapable now.

Gabriella glanced outside of Sharpay's window, thinking about her writer's block. Ever since she moved in with Troy, the fantasy she once relied on to fuel her creativity had begun to feel stifled. Her divorce had left her vulnerable, and her relationship with Troy had taken on a deeper, more intricate dynamic—one grounded in reality rather than the romanticized distance she used to write from. That separation between her life and her stories had dissolved. Only in the rare moments when she allowed herself to fully let go, to be unapologetically honest with her feelings, did she dare to indulge in her imagination again. And it was in those fleeting, unguarded moments that the words started to flow.

"I think I love him." Gabriella shrugged her shoulders, "I think a part of me always has."

"Are you sure because you used to say your love story was your inspiration," Sharpay pointed out, "All that sexual tension and wild passion I thought…"

"Yeah. Not really," Gabriella made her way back to her chair, "Jason and I were comfortable with each other, we loved each other, we just didn't have that … spark."

"And you married him?"

Gabriella winced, "I was young, stupid, new in town, and with nowhere to go. I didn't know anything about sparks, sexual attraction or what I was feeling."

"Sparks like the ones between you and Troy?" Sharpay said quietly, "And you really didn't know you had feelings for Troy?"

"I knew I had feelings." Gabriella reached for her mug and brought it up to her lips, "The man is gorgeous, but I always thought it was just a harmless crush. What did it matter? I was married. Nothing was ever going to really happen."

"Even a blind hog can find an acorn once in a while."

"What?" Gabriella said looking up at Sharpay, "I swear, sometimes I barely understand you."

Sharpay shook her head and took a sip of her wine. They were quiet for a moment as both girls listened to the sound of Blue's soft snores.

"Well, all things aside. You should tell him the truth."

"I don't even know where to start." Gabriella said, placing her mug down on the table, "I'm too embarrassed."

"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. You're a grown woman with needs and he's a grown man who cares a great deal about you. I've lived in this town with Troy Bolton my whole life and he's never been as careful with any of the females around here as he is with you."

"So what?"

"So that means something," Sharpay said leaning forward, "You mean something to him and if you've been writing about him all these years, he must mean something to you too." Sharpay walked over to the table and placed her wine glass in front of Gabriella with the bottle. "And if all else fails," she shifted, reaching over to a pile of books over by her hallway table. "Give him this and let him figure it out on his own."

She placed a copy of Heart Under the Hood, on the table in front of her.

"Because if someone wrote something like this about me." Sharpay tilted her head. "I'd fall head over heels in love with them."

"I don't know if I can do that," Gabriella murmured, pushing the book away slightly, as though it burned her fingertips. "What if he doesn't get it? Or worse, what if he does and it's too much?"

Sharpay leaned down, gripping the back of the chair as she locked eyes with Gabriella. "Or what if it's exactly what he needs to see? What if it's exactly what you both need to finally stop dancing around each other and admit what's been true all along?"

Gabriella swallowed hard, her throat tightening. "And what if it's not enough?"

Sharpay straightened, her expression softening. "Then at least you'll know you gave him the truth, Gabriella. And that's always enough."

Troy

Troy leaned back on the couch, a half-empty beer in hand, while Chad and the other guys shouted at the television. The impromptu gathering wasn't something he'd planned, but when Chad showed up at his door with a case of beer and a pizza, turning him away didn't feel right.

"How's business?" Chad asked, popping open another beer.

"It's going," Troy replied with a shrug. "Gabriella's working on an ad for the paper."

"Smart move," Jimmie said, reaching for a slice of pizza. "I'll mention it to Tiara. She's always looking to fill space in the paper, but let's be honest, nothing much happens around here besides yard sales."

"Well, that and Troy adding notches to his bedpost," Donny chimed in with a laugh. "Saw Kelsi hanging around at your barbecue the other day."

"Kelsi Nielsen?" Jimmie asked, raising a brow.

"Yep," Donny said, turning to Troy. "You got a notch for her yet?"

"Kelsi's just a little lost," Chad interjected when Troy didn't answer. "She's been hitting on anyone at the bar with a pulse."

"Kelsi and I don't mingle like that," Troy said finally, raising an eyebrow. "We flirt, but it doesn't go beyond that."

"I'd take it there if she looked my way," Donny said, tipping his beer toward.

"She's not like other girls, Donny. If you get her naked, you better make it worth her while. She talks," Troy warned, taking a sip from his beer.

"Don't all girls talk?" Jimmie chuckled. "I skim through Tiara's self-help column just to make sure she's not spilling too much."

"Not my Taylor," Chad said, grabbing another slice of pizza.

"She sells crotchless panties, Chad," Troy reminded, smirking. "No one in town thinks she's not passionate."

"Or a good girl," Donny added, laughing.

Troy smiled as Chad flipped Donny off, but his mind drifted back to the previous night. Gabriella. Every inch of her had ignited something in him, something more than just desire. He'd been greedy for her, and she had been just as eager. But he knew he had to tread carefully; he didn't want her thinking it was just lust. His goal was to show her love, every chance he got. That's why he'd called the florist as soon as she left that afternoon.

"How are things with Gabriella?" Chad's voice broke into his thoughts. "Is she driving you crazy yet?"

Troy shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Gabriella had driven him crazy, but not in a way he'd share with the guys. "She's been doing her own thing."

"I wouldn't mind a shot with her," Donny sighed. "Don't think people didn't notice that little lip action between you two. What the hell was that about?"

"Nothing that's any of your business," Troy said, his tone hardening. He was used to hearing people talk about Gabriella. Her divorce had made her the subject of endless gossip, but Troy didn't care about what anyone else thought.

"So it's true then," Jimmie grinned knowingly. "Finally got a little taste?"

"Look," Troy began cautiously. "I'm not here to feed into the gossip. What's between Gabriella and me is just that—between us."

Donny raised a brow. "Come on, Troy. You can't blame us for being curious. You've been spending a lot of time with her."

Troy's gaze hardened. "And I'll keep spending time with her if that's what we both want. But what we do, or don't do, isn't for anyone else to speculate about."

He'd learned long ago that peace in Payne Springs meant ignoring the rumors and smiling through the whispers. He mastered the art of smiling and saying his God blesses even if he didn't mean it. What mattered to him was Gabriella, wherever she was, as long as she was with him. As Jimmie launched into another story about Martha and Jason, Troy lifted his beer, silently reaffirming that making a life with Gabriella was still his top priority.

Gabriella

Gabriella sat behind the reception desk, finalizing the invoice for Mrs. Westchester's windshield wiper replacement.

"That'll be $32.98," she said, tearing the invoice from the booklet and handing it over.

As the elderly woman rummaged through her purse for her wallet, her gaze shifted to the vibrant bouquet of red roses adorning the desk.

"Those are some very pretty flowers," Mrs. Westchester remarked with a warm smile. "A secret admirer?"

Gabriella's eyes followed the woman's to the roses, their fragrance subtly filling the room.

"Something like that," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Are they from him?"

The unexpected question made Gabriella's heart skip a beat.

"You're not seeing him again, are you?" She spoke again.

"Jason?" Gabriella let out a sigh, shaking her head. "No, Jason and I are over. There aren't enough flowers on earth for that to happen again."

"Oh, good," Mrs. Westchester said, relief evident in her tone. "So, who are they from, dear?"

"Not sure. No card," Gabriella murmured, her thoughts drifting back to the moment the flowers had arrived that morning. Troy's card attached read 'Because I adore your beautiful smile.'

Damn him. The whole thing made her heart beat a little faster and the flutter in her abdomen rattle her. It was like she was sixteen again and getting asked out by the most popular boy.

"Well, it's always nice to get flowers."

Gabriella nodded. "Agreed."

After Mrs. Westchester left, Gabriella leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the roses.

Their beauty was undeniable, but they also served as a constant reminder of the man who had sent them.

She needed to focus on coming up with a way to tell him the truth, not on the loop swooping feelings her stomach made when saw the gorgeous arrangement on her desk.

Determined, she stood up, ready to move the bouquet out of sight.

"Good, you got the flowers."

Gabriella froze, turning to see Troy closing the door behind him.

It was the first time they were alone since Sunday afternoon, and the air between them felt charged.

She tugged at the hem of her jean skirt, suddenly self-conscious. The last time she'd worn a skirt he had it bunched up around her waist eager to remove it from her person.

"Why on earth did you send me flowers?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Troy smirked, jotting something down on his clipboard.

"Don't even try to act like you hate them," he teased.

"I don't hate them," she admitted. She loved them.

"Then what does it matter why I sent them?" he countered, tearing off a slip from his notepad and handing it to her.

Gabriella took the slip, her glare unwavering.

"This feels very relationship-ish, Troy."

He chuckled softly, leaning over the desk, his proximity making her heart race.

"Is this not a relationship of some sort?"

"You know what I mean," she said, glancing at the flowers. "You know I love red roses."

"Then what's wrong with me buying you red roses?" he asked, his voice low, eyes drifting to her lips.

"People are gonna start talking."

"People are talking," Troy said, straightening up and walking over to hang his clipboard on the wall. "We might as well give them something fun to talk about."

"Speak for yourself. I've been something to talk about for 14 months," she sighed. "Seriously, is it asking too much for a national disaster or mass murder to come rolling through town?"

"People hear you talk like that," Troy said, pointing at her with a frown, "it's going to be another 14 months before they stop being afraid of you."

"Ha, ha, ha," she retorted, placing the slip on a pile of others and crossing her arms.

"You wanna go to lunch?" he asked, his tone softening.

Gabriella sighed as she grabbed her car keys, "What do you want this time?"

"Actually," he said, reaching for her hand and removing the keys. "I have something in mind, if you're up for it?"

Gabriella eyed him with caution, "maybe we should set some more ground rules," she said quietly, "I'm not an exhibitionist."

"Neither am I, but I was suggesting a picnic."

"You packed lunch?"

Troy chuckled, "don't get excited it's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some homemade lemonade."

"Sounds yummy," Gabriella said, placing a hand on her hip, "So where is this picnic at?"

"Well, follow me." Troy held out an arm and Gabriella hesitated before she slowly looped her arm through it. Not really sure what to expect or what she should do about the butterflies in her stomach. This was her chance to tell him the truth.

Her nerves were frazzled as she contemplated where exactly to start. As they walked towards the door Troy stopped and glanced back at Blue.

"Come on Blue, this wouldn't be the same without you."

Blue jumped up from his spot besides the desk galloping towards them with excitement. After hanging the lunch sign and locking up. They turned into the garage and Gabriella frowned as she watched him pull down the garage door. His muscles flexed as he pulled the chain, encasing them in the privacy of the garage. When everything was locked up he turned towards her with a small smile, "What's wrong? Scared?"

"A little?" she said, watching him carefully. "Most horror movies start out this way."

"You're perfectly safe," he laughed as he wiped his hands on the rag from his back pocket.

She knew he was right. She could feel it in her bones, a sense of security settling over her as Troy walked towards her. Someone could make millions if they bottled up that feeling and sold it to frightened women everywhere.

Gabriella looked down at Blue who was standing beside her, his tail wagging lazily. "If he goes for my kidneys, I want you to go for his balls," she joked.

"Really?" Troy said as he made his way over to an old red and white convertible parked on the lift.

"Whose car is this?"

"Mine," he said casually, opening the back door and motioning for Blue to hop in. "It's a restoration project I've been working on in my down time."

"It looks pretty," she said looking at the slick framework. She knew very little about cars and what she did know she learned from working at the shop with Troy. She watched Troy close the door for Blue and before she could register what was happening he was walking towards her and ushering her towards the passenger seat.

"I don't understand," she said looking at him oddly, "I thought we were going on a picnic?"

He helped her into the car and shut the door, "With all the kindness in the world, shut up and let me surprise you."

Troy bent down shoving his hand underneath her ponytail and adjusting her so he could taste her lips, eagerly making a meal of her mouth and tasting her with a hunger he almost couldn't control. Thankfully with the door between them and stopping him from going any further he pulled away and reached into the back seat for the basket he placed there earlier.

Coming around he hopped into the driver's seat, setting the basket down between them on the bench seat. Then taking hold of a small black box she hadn't noticed was sitting beside her. Granted, after a kiss like that she wasn't sure of her own name for a brief second.

"Ready?"

Gabriella glanced over at him, taking in his wicked smile, "For?"

"Our Picnic," he said, hitting the button.

A loud noise startled her as she felt the ground beneath them jerk and then begin to rise causing her to grab hold of the dashboard. "Oh my god!"

Troy chuckled as they continued to rise into the air adjusting so he could reach a hand back and give Blue a scratch behind the ear. Once they were up high enough he stopped the lift and put the box on top of the dashboard to the side.

"You alright?" he asked looking over at Gabriella once he was sure Blue was fine.

Gabriella was leaning over the edge looking down, "Holy shit," she said, turning around to face him. "Do you do this all the time?"

"Only when I need to think," he said with a grin as he opened the basket and took out a bone for Blue. "Don't worry buddy I made sure I didn't forget about you," he muttered, reaching back to hand the bone to him.

Gabriella let out a sigh as she turned in her seat, "Troy this is epic," she said shifting so she could face him as he turned on the radio. Randy Houser softly filled the air about good night kisses as she openly admired the man sitting beside her. Troy Bolton was a man who might as well have walked right off the pages of one of her books. Confident, sure, crazy with a smile that could cause such sin, it should be condemned from daylight.

"I'm happy you like it, hopefully it will distract you from how ordinary our lunch is."

Gabriella laughed, "Nothing about you is ordinary, I'm surprised you even know the word," she said, reaching in the basket for a sandwich. "How on earth are you still single?"

"You'd be surprised," he said with a crooked grin as he began to unwrap his sandwich.

Gabriella began to unwrap her sandwich as well, "So why didn't you ever settle down?"

It was quiet for a moment as he thought about his response, "I guess you could say the right girl just hasn't been available to me."

"That just sounds like you're being picky to me," she laughed as she leaned in for the first bite of her sandwich.

"Or I could just be sure of what I want," he said casually before leaning in and taking a bite from his own sandwich.

Gabriella licked her lips as she lifted a finger to swipe at some of the jelly in her sandwich, "What kind of girl are you looking for?"

Troy reached into the bag and took out a thermos that held the lemonade. "One of a kind, someone who makes me feel like I'm exactly who I wanna be when I'm with her."

Gabriella watched as he poured the lemonade into the thermos cup, "So you're looking for her?"

"No," he said, capping the thermos, after a moment of hesitation he spoke again. "I already know where she is, I'm just waiting for the right time."

"Who is she?" Gabriella's voice caught, and she disgusted it with a cough before reaching for the cup he offered. The thought of Troy with other women always nerved her but she knew they never really meant anything to him. However the idea that he might be harboring feelings for someone else almost made her skin crawl.

"A friend," he offered with a shy smile.

"Oh," Gabriella said quietly as she lifted her cup to her lips, faces ran through her mind. Suddenly she was searching through the crowd for anyone she might have missed.

"What about you?" Troy asked quietly.

"I'm still a little raw," Gabriella winced softly as she looked down at her cup. "I really don't have any high expectations when it comes to my love life anymore."

"Why not?"

"I feel like I messed everything up," she said, letting out a sigh. "Like I ruined it before I got started. Everything with Jason was just so-"

"Stop it."

Gabriella winced inwardly, embarrassed to let him see that she was in way over her head. "Troy, when I first came to town I didn't have a lot," she said with a shrug, "My self confidence and self worth didn't really amount to much and I think Jason knew that and he extorted it."

"Some men just don't know how to handle a real woman when they have one," Troy said looking down at his sandwich, "Jason was always ambitious but he never had the patience it takes to really make something work." he said, catching her eyes before she could look away from him. "And just so you know, there is nothing wrong with you."

"I love how sure you are about that," She said nervously, almost breathlessly. "You won't feel that way when I tell you about Jason's latest stunt."

Troy wrapped up the last of his sandwich and dropped it in a bag before reaching across the bench seat for her sandwich and wrapping it up as well to put it away.

"Hey I was-"

Once their hands were free he pulled her towards him and she went to him craving his strength to give her a boost in confidence to spill the beans.

Then his lips smashed down on hers, she could almost feel the electric current running through her body from the touch. She was helpless to him, not able to resist the way he devoured her mouth like a starved man.

Her hand came up to his chest fully determined to push him away because she had to tell him the truth. She had to come clean.

Then he slanted his head taking the kisser deeper still as he removed the cup from her hands, once free she wrapped her arms around him. Enjoying the feeling of him pressed against her. She moaned deep in her throat when she felt the warmth of his fingers on her bare thigh and wondered when he slid his hand under her skirt?

When those fingers began inching toward her center, instinctively she shifted her body closer to his. The move immediately parted her thighs.

As if his fingers were fully aware of the impact they were having on her, they moved to stake claim on her most intimate part. As his fingers slid beneath the waistband of her panties, she released another moan when his hand came into contact with her womanly folds. They were moist and she could feel the way his fingertips were spreading her juices all over it before he dipped a finger inside her.

The moment he touched her there she pulled her mouth away from his to throw back her head in one deep moan. But he didn't let her mouth stay free for long. He recaptured it as his fingers caressed her insides in a way that almost made her weep, while his mouth continued to ply her with hungry kisses.

Suddenly she felt sensations that started at her midsection and then spread throughout her body like tentacles of fire, building tension and strains of sensuous pressure in its wake. Her body instinctively pushed against his hand just as something within her snapped and then exploded, sending emotions, awareness and all kinds of feelings shooting all through her, flooding her with ecstasy.

When the feelings became too strong she pulled away from his mouth her finger shifting through his hair as he came closer to her watching her as she watched him. His eyes roamed her face as he continued to push her over the edge. "That's it. Come for me baby," he slurred thickly just above her mouth. "You feel it, me working your body, making it do what I want it too," he said increasing the rhythm, "I'm so unbelievably hard for you, watching you come apart for me."

"Troy," she whispered, the brink of her climax just about ready to spill over.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "Absolutely sexy, you should be made love to everyday."

Oh. Wow.

A look of such tenderness appeared on Troy's face, it took her breath away to think it was directed at her. "Oh Gabi, you have no idea how you look after I've made you come. You wear your happiness on your face for hours afterwards.

Had any man ever touched her with just a whisper of the way he had with such caring tenderness. The answer was easy. Absolutely not.

"This afternoon, when you go back to work, you're going to have that soft smile on your face and that glow in your eyes." He whispered tenderly. "Your skin will be flushed and you'll be a little slow and dreamy in your movements, like your body is there, but every other part of you, heart, mind and soul, is right … back… here."

With the last few final strokes she completely came apart letting out a deep piercing scream, unable to hold back. Muffling her cry he took her mouth again and he kept kissing her in this devouring way until she felt deliciously sated and her body ceased its trembling. He finally released her mouth, but not before he gave her a few parting chase kisses on her bottom lip.

It was then that she opened her eyes, feeling completely drained but totally satisfied. Quietness settled around them the faint voice of Blake Sheldon thanking god for giving him someone played in the background and she peered over the seat to see Blue fast asleep with his bone in his mouth.

Had she fallen asleep? Was this a dream? Had they really just done what she thought they did? Had she really allowed herself to be fingered in the front seat of his car? A car suspended high up in the air? Thoughts of other sexual acts came to mind before she could stop herself. She wasn't supposed to be doing this.

She was supposed to be telling him the truth. He was supposed to be angry with her and heartbroken by her betrayal.

She let out a slow breath. Being with Troy these last few weeks had been light and fun, sexually appetizing and freeing. She imagined briefly that this was how it could always be between them, if she wanted. If she let herself be brave enough to ask for it.

Her heart shouldn't feel so heavy with feelings she couldn't possibly begin to short out in the front seat of his car while he was so close to her.

Her eyes shifted towards him and she was a little stunned to find him still watching her. Heat filled her face and she wondered if he saw it. At least he had no idea what she was thinking. Or did he? He hadn't said anything yet. He was just staring at her and licking his lips. She felt like she should say something, but at the moment she was speechless.

Troy

His nostrils flared from the scent of a woman who'd been pleasured in the most primitive way. He would love to strip her naked and taste the dewy essence of her. To brand her with his tongue and make her keep screaming his name, like so many dreams he had over the years.

She was still staring at him as if she was trying to figure out why and how this thing had happened. He would allow her time to do that, allow her time to get acquainted with the idea that he was the one who gave her such pleasure.

"We probably shouldn't have done that," she said quietly.

Troy raised a brow, curious as to how she could say such a thing while his fingers were still inside of her? Maybe she had forgotten where his fingers were because they weren't moving. He flexed them, and when she immediately sucked in a deep breath her gaze darkened with desire, he knew he'd succeeded in reminding her.

And while she watched, he slid his hand from inside her and moments later he brought it to his lips and licked every finger that had been inside her. "I'd have to disagree with you."

He saw her throat move when she swallowed with her eyes still latched onto his. "This is all very overwhelming."

"But it's what you wanted, isn't it?" he said, "something other than just vanilla."

"Yes but," Gabriella eyes fell to his lips and she took her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. "I don't want you to feel obligated-"

He reached out and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I would never feel obligated or take advantage of you, Gabriella. I'm not that kind of guy. No matter what we're doing, you always have a right to say no." A part of him hoped she would never say no to any direction their attraction might lead.

"I would never think that of you," Gabriella said quietly, "you would never take advantage of me like that. But Troy I really need to-"

"Actually," he stopped her, his eyes watching her closer. He'd been fighting with himself all morning with his next thought. Debating the real rights and wrongs about what he was doing. Troy took a deep breath as he settled a little more comfortably beside her, "I've been thinking about your situation."

"Situation?" Gabriella raised a brow.

Troy closed his eyes for a moment as he looked off into the distance, not ready to meet her eyes or come to terms with what he was about to suggest just yet. Just because you know something was the right thing to do doesn't mean it was any easier to do it. "Maybe you need to start dating again."

Gabriella eyes shot to him, "Excuse me?"

Troy shifted in the seat reaching over and taking her hand in his, "Relax."

"I'm sorry, are you bored already?" she asked, unable to keep the horrified gasp from her voice.

Troy let out a laugh, "No," he said quietly pulling her closer to him, "Has anyone ever told you, you shouldn't believe everything you think."

Gabriella, who was still tense, looked at the dashboard of the car. "I don't understand what's happening, why do you suddenly want me to see other people, you wanted to be exclusive."

"I do," Troy said quietly, "So you have to promise me that if you feel like you're going to sleep with someone else you have to tell me."

"Now I'm sleeping with someone else?" Gabriella jerked upright, turning around to face him, "What the hell Troy. What about five seconds ago when your hand was up my skirt? Do you think that happens every time I leave the house because I assure you no one is –"

"Gabriella," he said, cutting her off, "You don't understand. I want to be able to give you what you need and I intend to be the man that gives you everything you've ever wanted, but you're never going to be sure about what you want, if you don't put yourself out there for opportunity."

"Is this about me working here? About what we talked about last night because Troy I really have to tell you that I don't only work here I -"

"This is about you being more than just the girl at the front desk. More than just someone's ex-wife, I want you to have something that's yours." He interrupted.

"But I have a life," Gabriella said, a little frustrated. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"I told Jimmie about the ad you're writing for the paper," Troy smiled.

Gabriella's face fell. "You did."

"Yeah and he said he was having a hard time filling the paper," Troy let out a sigh as he gave her a knowing look, "I know how much you like to write I think you should ask him about a job. Maybe you could make money doing something you love. Then you wouldn't be stuck here with me."

Troy watched Gabriella's face shift, the guilt flickering in her eyes before she looked down at her hands. He felt his chest tighten, the confirmation hitting harder than he expected. She did feel stuck—stuck with him, in this town, in this half-life they were both navigating. It wasn't like he hadn't wondered before, but seeing it laid bare in her expression made it undeniable.

He leaned back against the seat, crossing his arms as he tried to shake the sting of it. He didn't blame her. Not really. She'd been through hell with Jason, and now here she was, living in a place she hadn't planned to stay, rebuilding her life while he just… existed alongside her. What did he really have to offer her anyway? A rundown garage and a mountain of baggage. Hell, she was probably too polite to say it, but he knew she deserved more than this. More than him.

Still, the idea of her leaving, of finding some spark outside of this place, gnawed at him. He wanted her to be happy, but selfishly, he wanted to be a part of that happiness. "Look," he said, his voice softer now. "I just think you've got a gift. People deserve to see it. And maybe…" He hesitated, swallowing hard as he worked to steady his voice. "Maybe this is your shot to find something that feels right for you again." He forced a smile, even though it felt brittle. "You don't have to stay here just because it's easy."

Gabriella

Gabriella replayed Troy's words in her mind: "You don't have to stay here just because it's easy." The phrase clung to her like a burr, digging in deeper with every repetition. Did he mean it the way it sounded? Did he think she was settling—for the garage, for this town, for him? Her chest tightened at the thought. She'd fought so hard to carve out this new version of herself, to build something steady out of the wreckage of her marriage, and now she was questioning everything. Was that really how he saw her? Someone who was just going through the motions, too scared or too stuck to want more?

Her mind wandered back to all the nights she'd stayed up late, poring over the garage's finances, making calls, cutting deals—anything to keep them afloat. She hadn't done it out of obligation or some sense of convenience. She'd done it because it mattered. He mattered. And yet, somehow, it felt like he didn't see that. Or maybe worse, he didn't want her to. Maybe he thought this was all just temporary for her, a pit stop on her way to something better. The idea stung, and suddenly she wasn't sure if her anger was directed at him or at herself for not telling him the truth sooner.

What if he really thought she'd leave? What if he was waiting for her to leave? Gabriella felt the weight of her own silence, the way it twisted and complicated everything. She was terrified to tell him she owned half the garage, that she'd been the one pulling the strings behind the scenes. But she was just as terrified to think that he might already have one foot out the door—assuming she did too. And for the first time, she didn't know which possibility scared her more.

Slowly she sunk down into her chair as she looked at the blank screen of her laptop. Blue settled by her feet and she let out a sigh of her own as she touched the pad on her laptop and watched the screen come to life.

Gabriella looked down at her trembling hands slowly. Instead of facing her real life she let herself be consumed by the one of make believe. She opened up the word document on her screen and she began going to work on someone else's life. Putting together the pieces of someone else's broken heart and shelving her own problems for the time being.

Later that night, Gabriella sat at a table with her friends, Sharpay and Taylor, the bar's lively atmosphere buzzing around them. "I don't know what I expected," Gabriella said, leaning in a little to be heard over the noise.

"But I didn't expect him to be so..."

"You were blindsided," Taylor supplied, sipping her drink.

"Distracted," Sharpay corrected, her brow arching.

"I know when all this started, it was about the sex," Gabriella admitted, lifting her beer to her lips. "But now it's different. He tried so hard to get me to see him differently, and it's like as soon as I did, he was over it."

"He did not say he was over it," Sharpay said, her brow rising higher. "He just wants to make sure you're in the right place. I mean, given everything he knows about you, it's kind of sweet."

"No, it's not," Taylor cut in with a shrug. "It's insulting. He's making decisions for you about things that don't concern him. So what if you hate your job and want to explore your sexuality? That doesn't give him the right to tell you how to do it or what profession to choose."

"But given her past with Jason, the breakup," Sharpay reasoned. "I mean, he has a point. You crash-landed in town and saddled up with the first good-looking guy. Maybe you should take the time to think about all this."

Gabriella glared at her in response.

"Oh," Taylor said, pulling a face. "Well, when you put his narcissistic overreach that way, it sounds romantic," she rolled her eyes. "I agree with Gabriella. What the hell was that?"

Sharpay let out a long sigh, "Well, maybe you need to tell him."

"Tell him what?" Taylor asked, looking from Sharpay to Gabriella. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Gabriella shot Sharpay a warning glance. "I just feel like I'm..."

"Sleeping with your husband's best friend," Taylor filled in.

"Ex-husband," Sharpay corrected, lifting her glass and bending the straw towards her. "Just this morning, Mrs. Patterson was talking to Mrs. James about that lip action you two had at the bonfire."

"Tell me about it," Gabriella sighed, staring into her beer. "I hid in a bathroom stall while Kelsi and some redhead speculated about Troy shagging me out of sympathy."

"You know that's not true," Sharpay said, placing a hand over Gabriella's.

"Do I?" Gabriella asked, glancing between her friends. "Admit it, I'm nothing like the kind of girl Troy's usually sneaking around with. I mean, come on, I had to demand that he have sex with me, literally begged him to."

"Define begging," Taylor teased.

"Gabriella, don't be ridiculous. The man didn't do anything he wasn't already game for," Sharpay frowned at Taylor. "Troy wouldn't do that to you."

"He wants me to see other people."

Sharpay winced, and Taylor sharpened her gaze.

"Honestly, what did you expect?" Sharpay said with a frown. "You wanted a no-strings-attached fling, but kissing in public around here is a one-way ticket to String City. Someone probably said something, and now Troy's freaking out."

"Yeah, and you'd know all about that, Miss Walking Around Town in the Middle of the Night with Your Boss," Taylor leaned back in her seat. "Seriously, have you both lost your minds?"

"No, that's different." Sharpay smirked, placing her glass down. "I'm not looking for a fling, and I already told you he wants to take things slow because he's my boss," she added with a tinge of disappointment.

"You like him?" Gabriella smiled.

"No," Sharpay grinned, the smile slowly growing. "I love him."

"What has he said about that?" Taylor leaned forward, intrigued.

"I haven't told him yet."

"Are you waiting for him to say it first?" Taylor asked, bringing her beer to her lips.

"I'm not sure," Sharpay said quietly.

Taylor looked back at Gabriella. "How do you feel about Troy?"

Gabriella shrugged. "I was just beginning to change my mind and then he tells me that he wants me to see other people."

"Okay, so you are falling for him. I mean, you guys are involved, and Troy has always been upfront with you." Taylor frowned. "Have you told him how that made you feel? On the off chance that this is coming from some place of genuine concern maybe he's just tone deaf."

Yes, she had thought about it. "Maybe I can talk to him," Gabriella said quietly. "Figure out how we went from one extreme to the other."

Sharpay narrowed her eyes. "I think that was a great idea. I also think it should start with a summary of the facts."

Gabriella let out a sigh, drained her drink, and stood up. "I'm gonna go order some wings and get another beer. Anyone want anything?"

"Make it two orders of wings," Sharpay said, glancing at her drink.

"Coming right up," Gabriella shifted through the crowd toward the bar. Placing her hands on the bar's surface, she called out to Chad, who was unloading a crate of glasses.

"Hey, barkeep," she shouted to be heard. "What's a girl gotta do to get service?"

Chad smirked, tucking a rag into his back pocket as he approached. "Hey Gabi, what do you girls need?"

"I need a Bud Light, and can we get two orders of your buffalo wings, with ranch?"

"For you," Chad said, reaching under for a Bud Light. "I'll throw in an order of fries."

"Thanks," she said, taking the beer from him. She watched as he wrote down the ticket for her food and handed her a number for the table.

Just as she was about to turn she was stopped by an intense feeling she couldn't describe. "You're still glowing you know," his voice was raspy as he whispered in her ear.

Gabriella spun around holding her beer tightly to her chest, "Troy?" her heart seemed to flutter at the unexpected surprise. Crap, he looked good.

Troy

"Didn't think you'd be here tonight," he said, tucking a hand in his pocket. Damn, how he'd love to see that smile every day. Wake up to it, go to bed with it. Any other time, that thought would have scared the shit out of him. But whenever he thought about it being Gabriella there was a calm and ease in that thought.

Up until a few years ago, he'd never cared if he went to bed alone or woke up by himself, as long as he'd gotten laid. Then the instantaneous satisfaction sex had offered began to become too quick for his liking. Something was missing, someone was missing. It was almost hopeless to think there would ever be a day between them where he might actually see her look at him the way she was right now.

It made him want to kiss her, to instantly claim her as his in front of everyone here. He'd waited so long to see that look in her eyes and there it was staring back at him. The same, it-always-been-you glaze that he felt in his heart, her flushed cheeks, meek smile and small but visible tremble in her hands, in all the years he'd known her she'd never looked at him like that before.

"I thought I'd spend some time out tonight, give you some space." Gabriella murmured awkwardly.

"Right," he said with a lazy smile, "I thought the same about you."

"Troy," Donny came over patting Troy on the back in greeting. "What's up man?"

"Not much," Troy said, pulling away from their man hug and nodding his head towards Gabriella, "Gabi you know Donny don't you?"

"Yeah," she nodded meekly, "he owns the rustic looking ford that comes in once a month."

"Guilty," Donny chuckled, "How are you holding up?"

Gabriella let out a long breath as she looked back over to where the girls were waiting on her. "I'm holding up just fine."

"Yeah," Troy said, placing a hand on Gabriella's shoulder, "The rat bastard, wherever he is, I hope he gets diarrhea. Stinky ass bubble guts that make Martha want to puke."

Gabriella smiled at that, "I hope they both get the squirts."

Donny made a face as he looked at both of them with confusion, "So how much longer are you going to deny the rumors?"

"Rumors?" Troy asked, looking at Gabriella then Donny.

"How long have you been dating?" Donny asked playfully, nudging Troy. He was like a dog with a damn bone.

"Oh," Troy said rubbing his side, "we're not dating."

"Really?" Donny said, a little taken aback.

"Really," Gabriella and Troy said in unison.

"So you wouldn't mind if I asked Gabs out then?" he directed his question at Troy, almost as if he was testing him.

Troy gestured to Gabriella "Be my guest."

"Well, thanks for your permission, Dad." Gabriella's eyes darted towards him, more confusion than murder in them.

"So what do say Gabs? H-how about we go out for dinner?" Donny said, fumbling through his sentence.

"I don't know," she said quietly, "It's a little soon-"

"Nonsense," Troy interrupted, "it's just about time, and in fact she was just telling me she wanted to get back into the dating pool."

"Was I?" Gabriella said, clutching her beer tighter.

"Well, I'd love to take you out," Donny looked at Gabriella with a smile, "If that's alright with you?"

Gabriella snapped her attention back to Donny, as if registering for the first time that he was standing there. Her eyes shift back to Troy, her gaze narrowing.

"You know what? Fuck it. Sure," she said, her eyes moving back to Donny as an afterthought.

"Great," Donny exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement, "I'll call you tomorrow to set something up."

"Can't wait," she said, forcing her legs to work so that she could move from this spot and get back to the booth.

Troy watched her as she made her way back to the table, shifting himself and he faced Donny who was doing some sort of victory dance. Rage almost made him want to punch Donny in the face or at least in the groin to ensure he'd be out of business for their date.

"You have no idea how much you owe me," Troy muttered as he shoved his fisted hand into his pocket. Troy made his way to the bar and was greeted with a glass of whiskey.

"You're either really stupid or up to something," Chad said, wiping down the bar in front of him.

"She needs to be sure," Troy said quietly, taking the drink and downing it whole, "She can't be sure of what she's feeling about me until she gets out there and sees how she feels about someone else."

"But Donny?" Chad said in a low voice.

"I'm not worried about Donny, I just want her to figure out this mess and come home to me, where she belongs damn it."

Chad bit his bottom lip and shook his head as he tossed the rag up over his shoulder. "You're an idiot."

"Don't for one minute forget that I actually pay my tab. Pour me another drink and skip the ice."

"Yes sir."

Troy took his usual seat at the corner of the bar, squared perfectly so he could see both the television screen and the front door. With a small turn he could even toss a sideways glance and watch Gabriella staring at him as well. No doubt about it, that little frown on her face was gonna come back to haunt him once she got him alone.

Of course the idea of Gabriella and Donny together made him want to break something into a million little pieces. He didn't want Gabriella going out with anyone, let alone Donny. Troy reached for the bowl of pretzels and glanced over at the door before looking up at the television.

"So," Chad said, coming over with Troy's drink and placing it on the bar top. "You got a ride home or am I cutting you off after that."

Troy lifted the glass as he reached into his pocket and placed his keys on the counter top.

Chad looked at his keys and let out a sigh as he took them and put them in his apron pocket. "You know you could just tell her you love her already and save the rest of us grief."

"She's not ready to hear that shit," Troy mumbled, popping a pretzel into his mouth and watching the game on the television. "You don't know her like I do."

"She's a woman Troy," Chad said as he moved to turn away. "You don't know her, like you think you do."

Later that night after four more drinks, he made a trip to the bathroom and on the way back out he felt two hands push against his chest and he fell back against the wall with a thud.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Gabriella's voice bit out.

"I could ask you the same question!" Troy blinked a few times before focusing on Gabriella who was staring at him with that frown just above her brow. "What's wrong?" he mumbled.

"We're going home. Now."

"Why?" he said, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head.

"Because, I've got somewhere to be in the morning and I'll be damn if I'm gonna leave you here drunk off your ass."

Troy let out a breath as he leaned his head back on the wall, "Go home Baby, Chad has my keys."

"Wrong. I have your keys," she said pulling them out of her purse, "come on let's go."

"I'm fine really," Troy slurred a little as took a step to the side.

"Troy," Gabriella sighed, "Don't make me kick you in the balls."

"What?" Troy placed a hand on the wall to steady the room, "Go home Gabi."

Gabriella linked her arm under his, "Don't be stupid," she grumbled. "Besides there's like three blondes eyeing you like the last drumstick on the turkey at thanksgiving. Like hell I'm going to leave you here with them." She pushed him up and he sagged against her.

When they came out to the bar Troy spotted Chad, "Traitor!"

"You'll thank me for this later!" Chad called back as he handed a beer to someone.

"Not likely." Troy turned his attention to Gabriella who was helping him to the door. "Where's your truck?"

"I didn't drive here, Sharpay gave me a ride."

Once they were outside Gabriella helped him over to the truck. "Are you alright to drive?"

Gabriella shook her head as she pushed him against the truck and fished the keys out of her purse, "I'm fine to drive."

"Do you know you're stunning when you're pissed off?"

Gabriella narrowed her eyes at him as she hit the button to unlock the doors. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No," he said, lifting his hands and placing them on her hips, "You're the only woman who's ever been pissed off at me."

Gabriella let out a breath, "Really, I find that hard to believe. Remember last year when Riley Thompson egged the front door."

Troy let out a chuckle, "She wasn't pissed off, she was just upset I didn't call her back the next day," Troy leaned in and Gabriella pulled back placing her hands on his shoulder and gently pushing him back.

"Not your best pick up line," she said, tapping his chest lightly.

"My romantic track record isn't exactly one for the books," he offered with a frown as his hands stood firmly in place on her hips.

"Troy people can see and I think we should just get home before anymore rumors spread."

"Would being with me be the worst rumor in the world?" Troy said with a huff.

Gabriella

She felt her insides clench a little as she watched his features soften under the parking lot's soft lighting "No, believe it or not whenever you're around everything seems to be roses and fairy tales, true love all around as impossible as that maybe."

"Why is it impossible?"

"Troy," she placed her hands on his hands and gently pulled them off of her waist as she reached for the door, "Let's not talk about this right now."

Gabriella got the passenger door open and before she could turn around to help him he was standing behind her, using his body to trap her against the open door of the truck. "Why is falling in love impossible?"

She sighed as she felt the warmth rolling off his body. "Falling in love isn't the problem," she murmured. "It's the staying in love part that I don't have much faith in."

"I have two parents, four grandparents and about twenty aunts, uncles, cousins and friends who'd say you're wrong about that."

Gabriella looked him dead in the eyes. "And I have a broken marriage that proves otherwise. Or did you forget that unlike you, who's so ready to hand out advice about how I should be living my life, I've already done the "I do's and until death do us part.'"

Confused, he waited for her to continue.

"My life didn't just fall apart, it blew up. I'm still living in your guest bedroom, still answering questions about how I'm handling things and still the only rumor running around town. Excuse me if I'm not racing towards the next opportunity to get back out there and have it happen again."

"I'm not him," Troy huffed. "I'm not gonna do to you what he did to you."

"Is that right?" she countered shifting her weight. "You're not going to walk into my life and bulldoze me and try to control me?

"That's not what I'm doing, you couldn't be controlled if you tried. You're the most independent, strong-willed person I know."

"You had no right telling Donny to ask me out. None." She said in a harsh whisper.

"I need you to be sure of this. You walked right out of Jason's front door and into mine. I'm just saying maybe you should put yourself out there before this goes any further."

"I was sure you idiot," she shouted, throwing her hands up. "Then you screwed everything up. What the hell was that, after weeks of feeding me bullshit, you were more than willing to pass me off to one of your friends," She went to slam the door shut on him when his hand shot out and grabbed it.

"Hey," he said, frustration evident in his voice. "You think it was easy for me to stand by and watch you marry my best friend? You think I enjoyed seeing you with him, kissing him, wearing his shirt like it was nothing? You've been treating me like I'm just a rebound, like I'm supposed to be fine with being a temporary fix before you figure out what you really want."

"Nothing about us is temporary," she argued. "And I did marry Jason, and I more than made out with him I fucked him too. I fucked him all over that fucking house we brought together and a couple of times in the garage." She was shouting now, pretty damn sure they were giving anyone in the parking lot a good show. "But that was my decision to make, just like it was my decision to fuck you too. You don't get to make that choice for me. You don't get to tell me who I can spend my time with and you sure as shit don't get to throw Jason in my face everytime you get pissed off."

His entire demeanor softened, the anger that had threatened to overflow suddenly ebbing away as he leaned back in his seat. Meanwhile, she was seething, her breath quick and shallow, fingers tightening around the door handle in frustration.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, exhaling slowly as she came to a decision. "Regarding my role at the garage," she began, fixing him with a steady look. "Jason sold me his share of the shop before he left town. So, yes, Troy, as your now very vocal partner in Troy's Auto, I'm exactly where I want to be in my career."

His eyes widen and she took the opportunity to slam the door in his face. Which made her feel a marco of a bit better. Her hands coming up onto her hips as she let out a grunt of frustration.

"You go girl!"

Gabriella jerked in surprise, glancing around the parking to see who was there. For the most part the surrounding area seemed empty, but it settled in her stomach anyway. Because yes, someone had indeed heard her and yes, her business once again was going to be all over town.

"Son of bitch."

Troy

Troy sat at the small kitchen table, his head resting heavily in his hands, a half-empty cup of coffee in front of him. The faint aroma of eggs and toast wafted through the room, but his appetite had deserted him. His head pounded from the previous night, and the weight of his thoughts pressed down even harder.

Across from him, Gabriella moved quietly, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him without a word. Her movements were deliberate, her face a careful mask of neutrality. She sat down with her own plate, focusing on her food, the silence between them thick and palpable.

His mind raced, turning over the shocking news from the night before: Gabriella owned half the garage. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Why would Jason just up and sell his share to her without telling him about it? It didn't make any sense. And more pressing, what did this mean for them now? Their dynamic had been clear before—or so he thought. Now, it felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, and he had no idea how to regain his footing.

He stole a glance at Gabriella, her face unreadable as she ate. The memory of their argument played back in his mind—his raised voice, her equally loud but cutting responses. He regretted it all. The anger, the confusion, the way he'd lashed out. None of it was fair to her.

"I..." Troy's voice came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat, trying again. "I'm sorry."

Gabriella didn't look up immediately, but after a moment, her eyes met his. There was no hostility there, but no warmth either. Just a quiet, waiting patience.

"I was out of line last night," Troy continued, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. "I shouldn't have pushed Donny at you. Not that I'm changing my mind about you getting yourself out there but you're more than capable of handling that part of your life with no more interference from me."

"How charming," she said, stabbing at a bit of her eggs aggressively.

Troy growned. "As for the shop."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Troy lifted his gaze to her, his eyes narrowed. "We can't just not talk about this. We're apparently business partners."

Gabriella set down her fork, her gaze steady. "We've been partners for a long time. Probably even longer than before the divorce for how much I've put in. It's important that you know what that place means to me. I know what it means to you, and that's why I know what I did was the right thing for the both of us."

Troy frowned, confusion tightening his features. "Run that by me again?"

"When I met you, you and Jason were struggling. He'd taken out a second mortgage on his mom's house, and the money was going out faster than it was coming in." She sighed, clearly reluctant to dredge up the past. "I used my savings to pay off the debt. Jason got his mom's house back, and you two focused on getting the business on its feet."

Troy's brow furrowed. "So Jason's half...?"

"Has essentially been our half for a while, tied up in the marriage. During the divorce, Jason was going to forfeit his share. Then he wasn't going to. He didn't officially say anything to me until that week before he left. When he sold his half to me. He said he didn't want anything holding him back and that he needed the capital to start fresh elsewhere. So I bought it."

Troy felt a sting of betrayal. Why hadn't Jason told him any of this? His jaw clenched as he looked at Gabriella. "Why didn't you tell me before now? I was asking you about your plans, and you didn't think this was relevant? What the hell, Gabriella?" He rubbed his face, frustration evident.

"I tried to tell you."

"When,"

"Yesterday, at the picnic." She said letting out a breath. "I tried to tell you then, but clearly things got off track, and then you blindsided me with dating someone else and working somewhere else. It felt like a slap in the face."

"Because I thought I was holding you back," he said. "What am I supposed to think? Clearly, I'm not your first choice and it feels like you're settling."

"You are my first choice," she assured him. "You and the garage are my first choice."

His eyes narrowed. "You should have told me when it happened."

Gabriella sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I wanted to. But I was trying to find the right time, and then... things got complicated." She paused, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. "Really complicated."

"Sex does that."

She let out a breath, "This changes things doesn't it."

"Yeah, it does." Troy said, his voice edged with frustration. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "How do we even navigate this?"

"We navigate it the same way we always have," Gabriella replied evenly. "We work together. Nothing has to change unless we let it."

Troy looked down at his plate.

"I could sign over my half if-"

"Don't." His eyes met hers. "You work hard, every day. Same as me." Troy placed his hand out on the table in front of her. "There is no one else I would rather be in business with than you. I trust you. Always have and always will."

Gabriella softened, her expression gentle. "So then maybe this isn't horrible? We can work through it, as long as we communicate."

"Agreed," Troy said quietly. "Let's start over." He said, his headache finally starting to fade. "Let's just forget about the bullshit and agree that we were both assholes and move forward."

She shifted in her seat, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I can do that."

"How about I make dinner tonight?"

Gabriella offered a small, reassuring smile. "I'd like that."

Gabriella

Later that evening, Gabriella sank deeper into the tub, a sigh escaping her lips as the warm bubbles enveloped her. The soft flicker of candlelight cast a gentle glow around the bathroom, creating a sanctuary of calm. She lifted her glass of wine, sipping slowly, savoring each drop as she tried to quiet the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. The water, warm and soothing, seemed to melt away the day's tension, though her thoughts still wandered. She had been soaking for half an hour, periodically adding hot water to maintain the perfect temperature, nursing her wine to prolong the moment, reluctant to leave the tranquility too soon.

Her mind, however, wasn't cooperating. Instead, her thoughts spiraled, tangled in a web of guilt and uncertainty. Because even after coming clean Troy still didn't know the whole truth. He didn't know about Brie Carmichael or the novels that had quietly taken the literary world by storm. He didn't know about the bank account that carried more zeros than the average small business owner. He didn't know that the woman he was shacking up with had built an entire career—an entire identity—that he'd never seen, never touched, never even suspected.

What would he say if he knew? Would he feel betrayed again? Would he even understand why she'd kept it from him? She wasn't sure she fully understood herself. Part of her told her it was practical—protecting her privacy, keeping her writing separate from the world she shared with him. But deep down, she knew it was more than that. It was fear. Fear that he'd look at her differently, that her success would shift the delicate balance between them. Fear that he'd see her money as a solution to problems she couldn't fix or, worse, that it would make him feel like less of a man.

She'd convinced herself it was better this way—cleaner, simpler. But as the secret grew heavier, she couldn't ignore the hollow ache in her chest. Would Troy love her? The real her. But then, who was the "real" Gabriella? The woman he was sharing his life with, or the writer whose words touched the world without ever revealing her face? She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could reconcile the two halves of herself before they tore her apart.

She sat there deep in thought going over the conversation in her mind. Then she let out a long sigh, as she began to think about everything that had happened in the last three weeks. From the first time their lips had touched all the way to yesterday afternoon in the garage. This whole thing between them felt more than just an exchange of sexual favors.

Not that she had the luxury of returning the favor. Not really, not in the way she would like to. She grinned wickedly sinking deeper, watching the way the slick water caressed the curves of her breast, making her skin shimmer and gleam in the candlelight.

Her writing, on the other hand, had taken on a life of its own. She had been typing furiously all day, like a composer lost in the frenzy of a masterpiece. The words poured out of her in an unstoppable torrent, each sentence more vibrant than the last. For once, she wasn't obsessing over the quality, there was a giddy certainty that this was the best work she'd ever produced. The pacing was sharp, the dialogue crackled, and the characters practically leapt off the page.

Almost as much as she and Troy seemed to ignite in real life, though that was a tough comparison. Of course, she didn't write down everything about her and Troy, no one would believe how incredible it truly was. Even she had trouble believing it. She had never met anyone like Troy before. He could have taken advantage of her proposal, used her, turned their connection into something cheap and fleeting. But he hadn't. Instead, he made her feel at ease, brought genuine laughter to her lips, and stripped away her inhibitions, if only for a little while.

Maybe in the end her writing was to blame for the failure of her marriage. Maybe the reason Jason had found attention from Martha was because she hadn't been giving him enough of it at home. She frowned a bit before biting down on her lower lip. Then again, how many blowjobs, quickies and handys had she given him in between scenes because she'd been turned on. Not that most of it had ended up in satisfaction on her end. Hardly.

Lifting her hand she looked at her naked ring finger. She knew all the reasons her and Troy would never work. But she couldn't bring herself to believe them. How could she forget the pain her heart had gone through? If she was wise she'd call it a day and tell Troy she'd had enough. He was probably right for the most part.

The only problem was that she was never going to be able to forget all the emotions that came along with being with Troy. Never feeling his hands on her again, never looking across the room again and sharing an inside joke, never tasting his kiss again. His kiss. God. She could never forget his kiss. Just the memory of his lips on her made her inside swirl in excitement.

Blowing at a group of bubbles on the puckered tip of her breast, she reached up and lightly brushed it away, acknowledging, at least here in the privacy of her bathroom, how much she wanted the hand on her body to be Troy's.

Her fingers were soft and smooth and easy as they slid down, beneath the water, gliding across her wet skin. But they weren't like his, his hands were big and strong and would feel deliciously rough against her skin.

"Especially here," she whispered, closing her eyes as she touched herself even more intimately. In her mind, though, the touch was all his. And within moments, the possibilities playing in her mind had her thrusting against her own fingers, longing to be filled but taking the only form of pleasure she could manage at the moment. Gabriella sighed, gasped, stroked the lips of her sex and the hard nub of flesh at the top of it, wondering how on earth she'd ever go so long without his hands on her again.

There was only one pair of hands she wanted. One mouth. One body. One person she visualized as she spiraled towards a climax.

The tension built like a carefully tended fire before erupting in a soft wave of pleasure that had her shaking and gasping for breath, even as she whispered one word, over and over.

His name.

She hadn't even floated back to earth when she was interrupted by the sound of someone letting out a sharp breath. Turning towards the doorway she saw Troy standing there watching her intently. With a shriek she sank deeper into the water so that she was covered from the chin down in bubbles.

"I-I thought I heard you call me," he said quietly as he held up a towel he held in his left hand. "I thought you probably forgot a towel."

If she wasn't absolutely sure he'd save her, she'd sink even further below and drown herself.

They quietly stared at each other for a moment, she didn't know what to say or what to do. Embarrassment was making her entire body throb with a numbing sensation. How long had he been there? How much did he see? What had she looked like? How loud was she? Questions kept filling her mind but her lips remained tightly wired shut.

Troy took a step forward into the bathroom and placed the towel on the vanity counter of the sink. "Dinner should be done soon."

Gabriella nodded as she watched him leave the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The instant he was gone she reached for her wine glass and drowned it entirely. God, it was as if she had been given the kiss of death, a man she was sexually active with had walked in on an intimate moment and had he shown any interest? No, his only concern had been running for the door.

Letting out a groan she shifted downward, submerging herself entirely in the bathtub of bubbles.

Troy

Downstairs he set the table slowly as he adjusted his pants for the third time. Of all the things in the world to walk in on, that image was going to be burned into his brain until the day he died. Hell if he died in the next ten minutes he'd be happy to have just been a witness to something as beautiful and powerful as Gabriella pleasuring herself with his name on her lips.

He made his way to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, turning around and stepping over Blue who had decided to fall asleep right in the middle of the kitchen.

"I suppose you don't have a wine preference do you?" Troy commented as he placed the bottle on the table. Turning around he made his way to the oven and pulled out the roast beef putting it on top of the stove for cooling. This was his apology dinner. Also as luck would have it, he overheard her confirming her plans with Donny tomorrow night. While he had no intentions of getting involved he was also going to make damn sure that even if she was out with Donny, Troy was a predominant thought on her mind.

Donny had stopped by the garage with his Ford earlier today to brag about his big plans to take Gabriella out to a fair that had been set up in the middle of town. So today he made it a point to do some shopping before coming home. She'd been working on something upstairs on her laptop before she'd announced she was going to take a bath. He'd been working on dinner for a while making sure everything was perfect.

Was he cheating at his own game? Hell yes, Donny wouldn't have a shot in the dark if he had anything to say about it. Was he keeping his word about interfering? Also yes. Technically.

Gabriella

Gabriella walked into her bedroom and quietly shut the door behind her, the red color on her cheeks had yet to disappear and her knees were trembling. Blue was no longer on the bed where she left him, instead was a bag with a red ribbon tied around the handle. Not entirely sure what to expect she arched her brow and walked towards the bag.

There was a note left beside the bed, she recognized Troy's penmanship and a smile began to grow on her lips as she unfolded it.

Words can not express how much of an idiot I was. Hopefully this apology will make up for it.

I've wined and dined you at a fancy restaurant, taken you on a traditional tractor ride, like every country woman should experience, and showed you one of my secret hideaways from the world. Tonight I want to cook you a meal. Don't argue. Don't say anything. Everything you need is in the bag. Come down when you're ready.

Gabriella looked up from the letter a bubble of excitement riding under her fingers and she pulled the ribbon from the bag. Looking inside she reached in and pulled out a bottle of lotion. Curiosity filled her and she opened it and sampled the Mango and crème fragrance. Reaching in next she pulled out the matching perfume and couldn't help but giggle a little. How long had it been since she received perfume from a man? Had Jason ever brought her perfume?

Tilting the bag she looked inside and pulled out a silk orange red fabric that turned out to be a dress. Surprise fluttered through her as she turned to the mirror and held it against her body. She would have never picked anything like this for herself. This was bold, loud and full of color. She didn't own anything like it in her entire closet.

She took her time getting ready, making sure everything was perfect, her excitement bubbling over as she pampered herself with a good moisturizing and spritz of perfume. She combed hair, lathering it in some leave-in conditioner and mouse to make her curls more lively. He liked her hair down, he also liked putting his hands in it. So she decided to leave it loose. The smell of dinner wafted up the stairs and she let out a sigh as she eased into the fabric of the dress, the way it glided over her skin made her think of how sinful it would feel under his touch.

When she was ready she took to the stairs slowly, unsure what to expect downstairs. When she came down to the landing she paused, not seeing anyone in the kitchen, she walked towards the dining room and inhaled sharply at the sight of Troy hovering over the table and lighting two candles.

"Oh my God," Gabriella murmured in surprise.

Troy's hand jerked and he almost knocked the candle over. Reaching out carefully he righted it and let out a breath as he turned to face her. His own reaction shifted into a very appreciative gaze. His eyes traveled over her, seemingly taking her in and enjoying the view.

"Wow," he whispered. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone as beautiful as you."

Gabriella let out a huff, "I'm sure that is not true."

"Gabriella," he said quietly as he took a step towards her, "I wouldn't be able to lie about something like that; the very truth is that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on. No one can take my breath away like you can."

His lips came down softly on hers, taking her inside his arms and wrapping his arms around her body. His hands open as they sprayed across the silk fabric separating their skin to skin contact. She was warm, soft and plush against him..

A murmur of satisfaction escaped her lips and she felt him pull back from their kiss but thankfully not his hold. Her hands came up to his shoulders resting there as he held onto her, a feeling that filled her with so much overwhelming emotion that all she could do was stare up at this man she'd known all these years and wondered how she went without.

"Before this goes any further there's something I have to tell you."

"Dinner first," Troy insisted as he unwrapped his hold on her, taking her hand he brought her to the table and pulled out her chair.

Gabriella let out a breath as she took a seat in the chair, Blue quietly padded from the living room to the dining room and claimed his spot beneath her. Using her bare feet she rubbed the top of his back causally as she waited for Troy to reveal their meal.

"Ready?"

Gabriella nodded slowly, "Yes,"

Pulling the cover off, he revealed her plate, pot roast and mashed potatoes with steamed vegetables. Gabriella inhaled the smell of the food, her mouth instantly watering with delight. "I had no idea you could cook something like this?"

"It's my mom's old recipe."

"Wow," Gabriella whispered as she looked down at her plate, "This is amazing."

"Well dig in," he smiled as he took a seat next to her.

Gabriella looked down at her plate, "you're just full of surprises," she said glancing over at him.

"My mother always told me I should know how to make one impressive dish."

"She was right," Gabriella grinned as she picked up her fork.

"Tell me something about your mother," Troy asked softly.

Gabriella was quiet for a moment as she pushed around some of the food on her plate before lifting a fork full of vegetables to her lips. She took a bite and was immediately overwhelmed by the taste of garlic and lemon. Delicious. She glanced back up at him with a sigh.

"My mother was in love with love," she said with a sly grin, "She read trashy romance novels and she watched every romantic comedy ever produced."

Troy laughed unexpectedly.

"She used to tell me that falling in love with my father was like falling asleep, slowly then suddenly all at once."

"What about your dad?"

"My father was very old school," Gabriella said, reaching for her knife to cut into her meat. "My father said he knew my mother was supposed to be his from the first moment he saw her in the market fighting with the produce man over overpriced watermelon."

Troy's smile widened, "Seriously?"

"My mother was a very passionate woman," Gabriella said before lifting a piece of roast beef into her mouth, moaning in pleasure.

"Like her daughter."

Gabriella swallowed before letting out a huff, "I'm nothing like her, I've never blindly leaped into anything."

"I beg to differ," Troy grinned, "I've never known anyone as passionate as you are."

"You mean no one quite as ridiculous," she uttered with a huff.

Troy leaned forward his lips covering hers in a searing kiss that demanded her attention and before she knew what was happening she was leaning forward, following him. Her lips hungry for more of his touch and more of his taste. Until his hand settled on her thigh and squeezed lightly. "You're ridiculously passionate."

Gabriella felt a blush come to her lips as she watched him under hooded eyes.

"Right," she murmured. Her eyes glancing down at his hand on her thigh. His touch was more familiar to her now, the way his warmth radiated off his skin made the butterflies in her stomach swirl. It struck her how much he embodied the best parts of the characters she'd been writing about for years—the ones who faced challenges head-on, who carried the weight of their emotions with grace, even when they weren't sure how to express them. In Troy, she saw her leading man come to life. The quiet strength, the vulnerability he tried to hide but couldn't quite mask, the way he cared deeply but kept his distance to protect himself—all of it was right there, written in his every movement and word.

"You're sweet," Gabriella said softly, her voice carrying a tenderness she hoped he knew was genuine. "I mean it. Troy, all of this—the dates, everything—it's been really special. And I know I didn't make it easy on you."

"No, not even a little bit," he agreed with a teasing grin, earning a playful swat from her. But before she could pull away, he caught her hand, holding it gently in his. The gesture made her pause, her gaze locking with his. "You're worth the effort," he added, his voice steady, filled with sincerity.

She smiled, warmth spreading through her as he placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. It was a simple act, but it spoke volumes.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think this meal was designed to butter me up," she said, giving her attention back to the plate in front of her and enjoying another forkful.

"If only food was the way to a woman's heart," Troy said absently.

"Could be," she said with a raised fork. "How many women have practically thrown themselves at you after making this exact dish?"

"None," he said with a grim smile.

"Oh that's a lie," she said with a laugh.

Troy shook his head slightly with a chuckle, "Actually, it's not because I've never made this dish for anyone before. You're kinda the only one."

The only one.

She inhaled slowly, her eyes meeting his. "You cooked this just for me?" she asked. "You're mom's recipe?"

"You're the only woman I'd make it for," he said quietly. "You're the only one I want to make it for."

She shifted in her seat, leaning forward slightly. "Troy…"

"I know, you don't want this to be serious." Troy said with a sigh, "You don't want another relationship, and you don't think love exists anymore." he says, his tone more earnest. "but it does exist, because I know how I feel about you."

"You do?" she asked quietly.

"I've been hung up on you for years," Troy confessed, the words coming out with a mix of vulnerability and relief. "And here's the thing, you don't tell a person you love them with the expectation they'll say it back. You tell them because you want to. You tell them because it's true."

Her heart squeezed for a moment. "Remember that book I mentioned?" Gabriella asked softly. "The one I wrote about my parents."

Troy nodded a little confused. "Yeah, I remember."

She took a steadying breath. "One of the nurses assigned to my mom used to check her vitals while I read to her. She really enjoyed the story, and soon, other nurses would stop by during our reading sessions just to listen."

"That must have been really special."

Gabriella nodded. "It was. Turns out, my mother's nurse had an uncle in publishing. She invited him to one of our sessions, and before I knew it, I was sitting in his office discussing turning my story into a real book."

Troy listened attentively, a hint of uncertainty in his features.

"The book ended up being quite popular," she continued. "The money I earned from it is what I used to invest in the shop the first time." She watched his reaction closely.

He shifted his eyes looking up at her. "The first time?"

"The second time I used my savings to buy Jason's half of the garage in the divorce."

"You're saving. From the book." Troy leaned back. "The book you wrote and published?"

"Actually," she winced. "More like eight books and a movie."

For a moment they were both quiet. Gabriella's fingers nervously tracing the rim of her glass. The dinner between them had grown cold, but the weight of what she had just confessed hung heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry, what?" Troy asked, his jaw tightening. "You write books. As in more than one." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "About what?" His tone was sharp, edged with frustration.

She leaned forward, her voice as calm as she could muster. "I write stories that explore relationships, emotions, and personal growth." She said nervously. "It's been a very profitable source of income. One I never really anticipated but it has helped us here and there."

"Is that what you're always typing up on your laptop?"

She nodded.

He was silent for a moment. "What else are you hiding from me?"

She flinched at his reaction, guilt washing over her. "Troy, it's not like that. I wasn't trying to keep it from you—it just never seemed like the right time to bring it up. And I don't tell anyone about it. In fact, you, Jason and Sharpay are the only ones that know. So it's not just you."

He shook his head, pushing back from the table abruptly. "So, what else? What other parts of your life don't I know about?" His voice was rising, the tension between them palpable. "Is there anything else you've been hiding?"

"Troy," Gabriella said firmly, her gaze steady despite the tears threatening to spill. "Not telling you about my books was not something I did to be cruel. I had to protect myself. I made that mistake once before and I wasn't gonna do it again."

"So that's just how it is. Because Jason fucked up I have to keep paying for it." Troy let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair as he stood up.

"Troy please, try to see this from my side. It's because of Jason that I have to be so careful," she fought.

"I can't talk about this right now." He paced for a moment, then grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "I need some air," he muttered, not looking at her as he headed for the door.

Gabriella's heart sank as the door closed behind him, the sound echoing through the now-silent house. She sat back down, her head in her hands, the weight of her confession and his reaction pressing down on her.

The next morning, Gabriella lifted her oversized sunglasses and perched them atop her head as she gazed at the diner before her. For a fleeting moment, she considered calling off the meeting with the reporter. She thought about dialing Michael to have him deal with the situation, erasing the anxiety gnawing at her. Lowering the visor, she glanced at her reflection, applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, and sighed. Her mind was cluttered, replaying the image of Troy walking out the door last night over and over.

Staring into the mirror, Gabriella barely recognized herself. It seemed fitting; she felt like a stranger to her own life. How had she been so blind to Troy's feelings? How could she not have seen the signs or caught the subtle cues? Troy was right—things between them would never be the same. She had fought against her feelings for so long, but now, there was no denying them. She had loved him for years. Yet, as he left her at the table last night, she had to muster every ounce of restraint not to chase after him. Troy had given so much of himself, and she had offered so little in return. A pang of guilt washed over her, knowing how much more she wanted—needed—from him.

Gabriella exhaled sharply, brushing away a tear as she turned her attention back to the diner. She wished, just for a moment, that her double life didn't have to be so complicated. She had chosen this spot for its anonymity, the perfect place to manipulate her IP address and keep her identity hidden. With a resigned breath, she grabbed her laptop, stepped out of the truck, and entered the bustling but subdued diner. Settling into her usual booth at the back, she ordered a coffee and set up her laptop, adjusting the camera to obscure her face.

Jason had come with her once and he had made fun of the entire thing. Teased her about her answers, poked fun at her characters, to be fair he didn't understand why she wanted the privacy. Jason couldn't comprehend why she wouldn't cash out on all that extra money that could be brought in on the book signings and appearances. He never understood it.

She wondered if Troy ever would.

The waitress brought over her coffee, and Gabriella murmured a soft "thank you" as she reached for the cream. She stared into the cup, her thoughts drifting to Troy, who was probably at the shop working on an old Chevy. She would much rather be there, watching him, than here waiting for this interview. The thought of spending time with Donny later at the fair seemed laughable now. Dating was the last thing on her mind, especially after last night.

The bell above the door chimed, pulling her from her thoughts. She watched as a man entered, his eyes scanning the room before landing on her. He approached, holding a piece of paper. "Brie Carmichael?" he asked. Everything inside her froze.

Before she could react, he was standing beside her table, a picture in hand. "I know it's you," he said, setting his messenger bag down and taking a seat. "My name is Martin—"

"I know who you are," Gabriella cut him off, her voice low and tense. She kept her head down, hoping to keep her face hidden. How had he found her?

"It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Carmichael," he said, extending a hand. She snapped her laptop shut, shoved it into her bag, and stood.

"You shouldn't have done this," she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Look, we could both benefit from this. The world wants to know you. You're a bestselling romance author, up for awards, and a mystery to your readers. People want to know who you are," he said, holding up her picture.

Gabriella's anger flared. "No." She snatched the picture from his hand, ripping it to shreds. "You just want to make a name for yourself, regardless of who you hurt in the process."

"Why have you been in hiding? Is Brie Carmichael even your real name?"

"No comment," she replied icily, dumping her coffee into his lap before storming out of the diner. His outraged shout followed her, but she didn't look back. She climbed into her truck, peeled out of the parking lot, and merged onto the highway. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly as she fought back tears of frustration and anger.

The jig was up. Martin Gibson had found her. Pulling out her phone, she dialed Michael's number. "I just met Martin Gibson. In person."

"What do you mean, in person?" Michael's voice was laced with concern.

"He found me. What are we going to do?"

After a moment of silence, Michael spoke. "What do you want to do?"

"I need time. Just get a hold of him, detain him somehow."

"I'll work on it. Top priority."

The call ended, and Gabriella let out a string of curses, pounding the steering wheel in frustration. As she pulled into her driveway, the sight of a familiar car in her spot sent a new wave of anxiety through her.

Gabriella parked her truck behind Troy's, her heart pounding as she scanned the area. Clutching her messenger bag tighter, she cautiously checked the bushes, though she knew logically there was no way the reporter could have followed her this quickly. Still, the thought of him knowing where she lived sent a shiver down her spine. Her gaze shifted to Donny's Ford in the driveway, and she sighed deeply. As if she didn't have enough to handle already.

She entered the house, the familiar murmurs guiding her to the kitchen. There, Troy and Donny stood by the counter, chatting casually. Gabriella set her bag aside and forced a calm smile as she approached.

"Hey, boys," she greeted, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Donny grinned broadly. "Wow, you look really pretty today, Mrs. Cross—I mean, Miss Montez—I mean, Gabriella."

Troy raised a brow, smirking at Donny's awkwardness, but his attention quickly shifted back to Gabriella. His gaze lingered as she pulled a beer from the fridge, twisting off the cap with ease.

"Thanks, Donny," Gabriella replied, her smile polite as she took a long swig from the bottle.

Troy frowned slightly. "Slow down there, champ," he murmured, watching her intently.

"Oh my God, you guys have the good kind of hand soap!" a voice chimed from the hallway.

Gabriella nearly choked on her beer as Kelsi bounced into the kitchen, her tight tube top and painted-on jeans making a bold statement. Kelsi winked at Troy, drying her hands on her thighs.

"No wonder you smell so good," Kelsi flirted, sliding her hands around Troy's waist.

Gabriella's spine stiffened as her eyes darted between Troy, Donny, and Kelsi. Realization dawned swiftly—this wasn't just a casual meet-up. It was a double date with Donny and, much to her dismay, Troy and Kelsi. She tipped her beer higher, draining it in one go, before reaching for another from the fridge.

Troy sighed as she cracked open the second bottle. "Hey, Gabi, maybe you should pace yourself."

"That's my kind of girl!" Kelsi cheered, grabbing a beer of her own and downing it in one smooth motion.

"This is going to be awesome," Donny nudged Troy, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

Troy

This was going to be a nightmare.

Troy fought back a groan, already weary of what lay ahead. This had not been part of his plan. His eyes watched her as she drained the second beer. She wore a familiar red summer dress he'd seen her in countless times before, but today it felt different. The sight of her in it sparked something deeper—a desire to feel his hands on her waist, trailing up her arms, untying the ribbon at her neck.

Turning from her he let out a sigh as he glanced at Kelsi who was draining her beer as well.

Troy hadn't expected the day to turn out like this. A simple plan to unwind with Kelsi—his longtime friend—had somehow morphed into a double date, and the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. He glanced over at Gabriella, her posture rigid, her expression guarded. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal, though he knew it wasn't fair. She was more to him than just his friend's ex-wife. This woman was his friend, his roommate, his business partner, his soulmate.

The urge to get rid of both Kelsi and Donny was strong, but he wouldn't do that. They needed some time apart. Some space. Last night had been a tipping point for him. He was angry. He didn't like being lied to, made a fool or kept in the dark about things that affected his business. And Gabriella was running the gambit on him.

Kelsi was a lifeline in a time when everything else felt unstable. Their friendship had always been platonic, no matter what people whispered. She was the kind of friend he needed—someone who didn't ask too many questions, who could share a laugh and a beer without diving into the complexities that weighed him down. Lately, life felt like a constant shift, the ground beneath him never quite steady. He was just trying to hold on, to find some semblance of balance. And Kelsi provided that in her easy, carefree way.

After some debat and driveway shuffle they ended up in Troy's truck on their way to fair, he looked in his rearview mirror watching her for a moment as she stared out the window quietly. Something was wrong, she wasn't saying anything but the look in her eyes told him she had more on her mind than what was happening in this truck.

It frustrated him, this need to distance himself from her, even for a moment, to get his head straight. Yet, every time he tried, she was right there, effortlessly slipping back into his thoughts, making him feel everything he was trying to avoid. He hated feeling this vulnerable, this exposed. And worse, he hated how much he wanted her, how much he couldn't seem to shake it.

"I think marriage is twisted," Kelsi said as she leaned back in the front seat. "I mean a lot of good it did Gabriella."

"Hey," Troy murmured.

"Oh what?" Kelsi said looking over at him, "Like she don't know her life fell apart and everyone's talking about it?"

"She's right," Gabriella said from the backseat. "At least I get to be a part of this conversation," she added with small smirk. "Marriage sucks."

"What's the one thing you hated most about it?" Kelsi asked as she turned in her seat to face Gabriella a little.

"Making dinner every night."

Donny turned towards her with a funny face, "Dinner was the hard part?"

"Do you know how hard it is to come up with 365 different meals?" Gabriella said with a raised brow.

"What do you and Troy do about dinner?" Donny asked, a little confused.

"I don't expect her to cook for me." Troy said, keeping his eyes on the road. "We switch off from time to time or we order out."

"Well I just figured she was doing all the cooking," Donny said a little defensive, "I'm all for equality between the sexes."

"I bet you are," Kelsi chuckled as she looked back at Gabriella, "So what's the best part of being divorced? I mean, with all the crap you put up with there has to be a silver lining somewhere?"

Gabriella was quiet for a moment as she thought about it to herself, "People look the other way when you get fat."

Troy's jaw clenched. "You're not fat."

Gabriella narrowed her eyes towards the front seat where Troy glared at her through the rearview mirror. "Did you know four years ago I weighed 110 pounds?" Gabriella said looking over at Kelsi, "After the divorce I was 132."

"That bastard left you with 22 pounds."

Troy almost flinched at how quickly Kelsi had been able to do the math.

Donny placed a hand over hers, "I don't think you're fat."

"You're kind," Gabriella said quietly, "I'm not overweight, but I'm not at all who I used to be. I guess that's another thing about marriage. It definitely changes you."

"So that's it. One bad marriage and you never want to do it again?" Troy said with a huff.

"I sure wouldn't," Kelsi said, turning to face forward, "Who wants to be fat?"

"She's not fat." Troy grunted. "You're both just fine, stop flinging around that word."

"I, myself love girls with big boobs," Donny expressed, which made Troy grip the steering wheel a little tighter at the thought of Donny's hands even remotely close to Gabriella's breast.

"Thanks?" Gabriella said shifting a little uncomfortably. Their eyes met again in the rearview mirror, a small raise of his brow asked if she was okay. She nodded slightly.

He didn't care how ticked off or angry he was with her. If she wanted him to pull the car over and shove Donny out onto the side of the road he'd do it. When they arrived at the fair everyone got out of the truck as soon as he parked. His eyes were on Gabriella as she aggressively typed out a message on her phone. He nodded over at Kelsi to go on ahead and approached Gabriella just as she was looking up from her phone screen. Her expression was a little startled.

"What's wrong?"

"Holy shit," she said, tucking her phone back into her pocket and holding up a free hand against his chest. "Where's Kelsi?"

"She went off ahead with Donny," he said, placing a careful hand on her waist, "What's wrong?"

Gabriella looked up at him a little caught off guard, "you were laying it kind of thick in the truck back there, don't you think?"

"Fine, you don't want to talk about it." Troy's eyes narrowed as he examined her carefully, then he looked back to where Donny and Kelsi were looking at the tickets sign. "He does anything he shouldn't, you scream."

"Troy I can handle myself."

"Hey," he said sternly, needing her to understand. "All the bullshit aside, I'm gonna worry every second I can't see you. Something's wrong. You don't want to tell me about it, fine. Nothing new there. But you're looking over your shoulder every five minutes and you're jumpy. Something happens, you scream, got it."

Shutting her mouth her eyes widened and she simply nodded. "I will."

"Try to have fun." He muttered walking around her and over to the others.

Gabriella

Oh sure, he was playing the hero, showing up with Kelsi of all people. Gabriella sighed as she watched Donny approach, holding a wristband in his hand.

"We can go on practically anything we want," Donny said, smiling brightly.

"That's great." Gabriella held out her wrist, but as he tried to fasten the wristband, his hands trembled so badly he could barely keep it together. "Why don't I do that?" she offered gently.

"Sorry," Donny handed her the wristband, looking sheepish. "It's been a while since I've actually been on a date."

"I know what you mean," Gabriella said, slipping the wristband on herself. "I've really only been around Jason or Troy." The words left a heavy pit in her stomach. "Wow, that sounds depressing."

"They were always lucky that way." Donny chuckled softly. "I've always thought you were really pretty."

Gabriella glanced up at him, her fingers lingering on the wristband. "You know Donny, there's more to me than just being pretty to look at."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded quickly. "I didn't mean that in a bad way, you're also really smart and funny."

That made her laugh. "You think I'm funny?"

Donny smirked. "And a little scary."

"I'm harmless when faced with a respectful gentleman." She warned softly.

"Noted." Donny nodded nervously.

"But, thank you for saying all that other stuff." She smiled warmly. "It's been a rough week."

"Well," Donny said, extending his elbow. "Allow me to help you shoot the shit as they say."

At that Gabriella laughed. Full blown, caught off guard full belly laugh.

And it felt amazing.

"So, what do you want to go on first?" Donny asked, turning toward the fairgrounds.

"The big Ferris wheel?" Gabriella suggested, falling into step beside him. "Jason used to hate the Ferris wheel so I never got to ride it much. It wasn't until after the divorce that Troy kind finally convinced me to go up."

Donny nodded along, and Gabriella quickly frowned. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"For talking about Jason. Or Troy, for that matter," she said, wringing her fingers nervously.

"Hey, it's part of life, you know," Donny shrugged as they walked. "It's no secret you were married to Jason, and beyond all sense in the world, you're living with Troy." He added the last bit with a teasing tone.

"He's a really good friend," Gabriella said quietly.

"Well, naturally, they're both important to you."

A small smile tugged at Gabriella's lips. "I swear, sometimes I feel like everyone expects me to talk about how fine I'm doing or how much better I am without Jason, that I forget there are other things to talk about." She felt the warmth of the June sun on her back as they walked. "My social skills are a little rusty."

"What do you like about working at Troy's Auto?" Donny asked.

Gabriella shrugged. "Honestly, I love that he lets me bring my dog to work."

Donny laughed. "Spoken like a true woman. I take it, cars don't really do it for you then."

"I don't know much about cars. I only learned a little, mostly from filling orders and watching Troy," Gabriella admitted with a small laugh. "But no, cars are not my passion."

"Then what is?" Donny asked.

Gabriella was quiet for a moment, looking around nervously. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"You can tell me anything," Donny said as they got in line for the Ferris wheel.

Gabriella leaned against the railing as they waited in line, the hum of the fair filling the air around them. The colorful lights of the Ferris wheel glinted off Donny's face as he stood beside her, hands tucked casually in his pockets. It wasn't electrifying, this moment with Donny, but it wasn't terrible either. In fact, it felt...refreshing.

Gabriella hesitated, her eyes flitting to the ground before meeting his. "When I first got here I had this wild and crazy idea to open a little café," she confessed. "Something cozy, maybe with a little library or a gallery attached. I'd serve coffee, pastries, things like that."

"That sounds really nice," Donny said, with genuine interest in his voice. "Why haven't you done it?"

Gabriella shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. "Well this town already has one of thoses. And I don't know. Life, I guess. I got caught up in other things—Jason, the garage with Troy." She winced. "Also I could never do the kind of customer service Sharpay puts on. She's a natural. I'm more of a behind the scenes kind of person."

"Like at the auto shop," Donny raised a brow. "Place got a lot more organized and pretty once you came around."

Gabriella smiled broadly at the compliment. "Really? That makes me happy. When we first talked about it, I planned to let Jason keep the garage. It was never really mine. Then the thought of losing it made me a bit sad because I feel like I poured my heart into that place. So when he offered it to me, I knew right away I had to take it. How could I not?"

Donny nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds perfect."

"I like to think so," Gabriella admitted, a flicker of hope stirring within her. "Gosh, It's just...nice to talk about it, you know? Without anyone throwing all the baggage that comes with it at me."

"You don't have any baggage." Donny said. "Hell, you're an independent person with a business and some good sense. Jason was dumbass. Troy too for that matter."

"Oh yeah?" Gabriella smiled. "Why's that?"

"I don't know what that man was thinking, letting me go out on a date with you." Donny shook his head. "He's been lovesick for you for years. I thought he'd come to his senses by now but I guess not."

Gabriella felt a blush on her cheeks. "So people know then," she muttered.

"About you and Troy." Donny shrugged. "Yeah, I mean most of us can read the room just fine. You two like each other. That's not that crazy all things considered. Just makes sense."

Gabriella glanced at him, surprised by his insight. "You're not so bad, Donny," she said with a chuckle.

"Thanks, I think," Donny replied, his grin widening. "I'll take it."

The line for the Ferris wheel crept forward, but Gabriella barely noticed. Her focus was on Donny, on the easy flow of their conversation and how natural it felt to laugh with him. She smiled at something he said, but her thoughts lingered somewhere else.

Who she was now felt so far removed from the woman she'd been five years ago. That Gabriella had been unsure, timid, and desperate to find her happily ever after. She remembered how she'd been when she married Jason—how trusting, how gullible. She'd followed him around like a lovesick puppy, pouring everything she had into him because she truly believed that her happiness depended on him. It was a storybook romance for a naïve girl who thought that a man declaring he loved her was the ultimate prize. Jason had been so easy to fall for because, back then, she hadn't known any better.

Now, standing here with Donny, she felt like an entirely different person—stronger, more self-assured. Gabriella spoke her mind now, confident in her opinions and unafraid to say what she wanted. She didn't need anyone to tell her who she was or what she deserved; she knew it. Five years ago, she couldn't have imagined standing here, comfortable in her own skin, knowing her worth.

It wasn't just growth—it was the influence of someone who truly saw her. Troy. He didn't make sweeping declarations or offer hollow promises. He challenged her, supported her, and proved with his actions every single day that she was worth fighting for. Being with him didn't mean sacrificing pieces of herself—it meant becoming the best version of who she could be.

As they stepped onto the Ferris wheel, Gabriella found herself relaxing. The tension that usually accompanied thoughts of Troy or Jason seemed to melt away, replaced by a lightness she hadn't felt in a while. It was good, she realized, to be seen as just Gabriella—no strings, no expectations.

Troy

Troy leaned against a pole, his arms crossed as he watched Gabriella and Donny join the line for the Ferris wheel. His jaw tightened, a grim frown etched across his face. He shifted his weight, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach.

"You know," Kelsi's voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention away from the scene across the park. She was still engaged in the game she was playing, her focus split between Troy and the targets. "If you like her so much, why let her go out with Donny?"

Troy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't 'let' her do anything. She's on a date."

"And you're just over here, keeping tabs, like some kind of masochist," Kelsi quipped, firing at a target. "Troy, you and I, we don't do the relationship thing. What's different about this one that's got you all twisted?"

"You wouldn't get it," he muttered.

Kelsi chuckled, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I've read enough Brie Carmichael novels to keep up. Try me."

"I thought you didn't read," Troy teased.

"If you tell anyone I read those, I'll make sure your condoms mysteriously spring leaks."

Troy smirked. "You'd have to find them first."

"Top drawer, under the socks," Kelsi shot back without missing a beat.

Troy's brow furrowed. "Girls talk, huh?"

"Girls talk," she confirmed, her grin widening. "Now spill."

He exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting back to Gabriella. "She's the one."

Kelsi arched an eyebrow. "The one?"

"The one," he affirmed.

Kelsi let out a huff of exasperation. "You've been chasing this for years, Troy. Maybe once you get a taste, it'll be out of your system."

Troy shook his head, leaning closer to Kelsi so only she could hear. "That's just it. I've had a taste, and I still want more. Always. A glimpse of her, a touch—it doesn't matter. I always want her."

The game's buzzer sounded, signaling the end. Kelsi stood, stretching. "So you're just sexually frustrated," she teased. "We could fix that behind the duck hunt booth."

Troy laughed, grabbing her hand and steering her toward the cotton candy stand. "It's not about that," he said with a smile.

"Then explain," Kelsi pressed, keeping pace with him. "Because it feels like I'm losing my best friend here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Troy assured her.

"Please," Kelsi rolled her eyes. "The moment she hooks you, she's not going to want me hanging around."

"Gabriella isn't like that," Troy said firmly, stopping at the cotton candy machine.

"All girls are like that," Kelsi leaned on the machine as Troy bought a blue cotton candy, handing it to her.

"I love her," Troy admitted softly.

"Wow," Kelsi took the cotton candy, her tone shifting. "Doesn't the whole Jason thing make it weird?"

Troy nodded, his expression darkening. "Yeah, it's complicated."

Kelsi gave him a long look. "Complicated" is an understatement. This isn't a missing toe or something—it's guy code."

"Guy code didn't seem to matter much four years ago," Troy muttered.

Kelsi tilted her head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Troy said, shoving his hands in his pockets as they started walking again.

"You and Jason have fought over this, haven't you?" Kelsi asked.

Troy stayed silent for a moment before finally speaking. "He knew how I felt."

Kelsi let out a low whistle. "What does she have? Beer-flavored nipples?"

"Hey," Troy shot her a look as they continued through the fair.

"Alright, I get it," Kelsi relented, stopping in front of the bumper cars. "She's the love of your life. So why is she here with Donny?"

"I don't think she'll let herself love me," Troy said quietly.

Kelsi raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's unfortunate."

Gabriella

Gabriella sat at a picnic table, waiting for Donny to return with their food. She slipped off her shoe, rubbing her aching foot. The evening air was cool, a welcome change after a day spent with Donny, discussing Brie Carmichael novels. For once, the weight of her secrets felt lighter. She decided to tell Donny everything, and surprisingly having a fresh perspective on it all was eye opening.

"Hey, you," Kelsi's voice broke the quiet, and she slid into the seat across from Gabriella.

Gabriella startled, clutching her chest. "Oh my god, you scared me."

"Sorry," Kelsi said, her hands resting on the table. "How's it going with Donny?"

"Nice," Gabriella replied politely. "He's a great listener, and he doesn't laugh when I close my eyes on the rides."

"But does he make that little voice in your head go off?" Kelsi asked with a knowing wink.

"Little voice?" Gabriella echoed.

"Yeah," Kelsi smiled. "Like in the books, the voice that says, 'Wow, it's him.'"

Gabriella smiled to herself, familiar with the voice Kelsi mentioned. She heard it when writing about her characters, especially her male leads. And Troy. The thought of Troy stilled something inside her. How long had she been hearing that voice? How long had she been ignoring it?

"I know who makes my little voice go crazy," Kelsi said, her gaze drifting toward Troy at the food stand.

"Troy?" Gabriella's frown deepened.

Kelsi shrugged. "I thought you two had something. But when you accepted the date with Donny, I figured it didn't work out. Why else would Troy ask me out?"

"I'm sure that's not the only reason," Gabriella said quickly, forcing a smile. "Troy's a great guy."

"Right?" Kelsi leaned in. "Have you ever seen the movie Heart Under the Hood?"

Gabriella sat up a little straighter. "Yeah,"

"He totally gives me Jack Brigg vibes." Kelsi said with a swoon."

If only she knew.

"I guess I could see that, they both work on cars."

"Yeah," Kelsi said with a shrug. "Are you a big reader?"

"I read the book," Gabriella said, "If that's what you're asking."

"I love Brie Carmichael. She makes love seem real, you know?"

Gabriella's heart skipped a beat. "You've read the Brie Carmichael books?"

"Yeah," Kelsi said. "She's my favorite. She's got a new book coming out soon. Can't wait to sink into it."

Gabriella's heart fluttered. "I feel like I've read them a million times."

It wasn't an entire lie.

"Same here!," Kelsi leaned in conspiratorially, "her books make love seem possible. Her characters are always so relatable and funny." Kelsi smirked.

"Why don't you believe in love?"

Kelsi shrugged. "Guys have double standards. Take Troy, for example. He sleeps around, but if he smiled at a girl, she'd see past all of it and think he hung the moon. Meanwhile, no one's thinking white picket fences when they look at me."

Gabriella's mind spun, her writer's instincts building a character around Kelsi's words. "Then why keep feeding into the narrative?"

Kelsi sighed. "Liking sex isn't a crime. I'm not waiting around for some guy to figure out if he likes me. Besides, I've probably missed my window."

"It's not hopeless," Gabriella said. "If a door closes, kick it open and keep going."

Kelsi smiled. "I like you."

Gabriella smiled back. "Thanks."

Kelsi glanced at Troy, then back at Gabriella. "Do you think I should sleep with him?"

"What?" Gabriella's heart stopped as Troy approached with a tray of food.

Kelsi studied Gabriella's reaction. "Should I sleep with Troy?"

Gabriella laughed nervously, pulling her hands into her lap. "Isn't that something you should ask him?"

"I guess you're right," Kelsi said, raising a brow. "As long as it's alright with you."

"Oh god," Gabriella muttered, her stomach sinking. "I don't care what Troy does. He's a grown man."

"Alright," Kelsi said, narrowing her eyes. "If you insist."

"Hey, girls," Troy greeted, setting down the tray. "Donny's bringing the drinks."

Gabriella seized the distraction, inhaling deeply to steady herself. She hadn't insisted. She didn't want to think about it. Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text to Sharpay, her fingers trembling.

That evening when the date was over and they gone back to house she said her goodbyes to Donny and then hightailed it out of there was quickly as possible because she didn't want to witness whatever happens next.

After a few bangs on the door, Sharpay finally answered it her expression slightly annoyed. "Hi." she grumbled her body encased in her light purple bedsheet.

"Why haven't you checked your phone, everything is going to hell in a hand basket." Gaberiella said walking past her and into the house. She made a beeline for the kitchen and to the wine cabinet needing something to settle her nerves.

"Well come right in?" Sharpay mumbled as she shut the door behind her.

"I told Troy everything. He wasn't exactly welcoming to the idea and then today was a nightmare. Some reporter found me, and I went on a double date with Troy and Kelsi, with Donny! And he wasn't that bad, actually that part of the day was enjoyable." Gabriella immediately opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. "No, it wasn't until I practically gift wrapped his penis and handed it to her did the day slip right back into a disaster."

Sharpay raised a brow as she shifted to the bar stool in the kitchen still clutching her bed sheet around herself. "Gift wrapped, what for who?"

"Troy," Gabriella said exasperated as she filled her wine glass all the way to the rim and then bent over to suck it up loudly. Standing up straight again she let out a groan, "And the reporter for the Boston Globe is still out there," she said, taking the wine bottle with her to the window as she peaked through the blinds. "He could be anywhere, just waiting to get the scoop on me."

"Sweet Baby Jesus," Sharpay said quietly as she brushed her untamed hair back behind her ear, "Do you hear yourself? You're making a pressure cooker seem tranquil."

Gabriella lifted the bottle as she drank from it and came back to the table. "He's gonna rat me out," she said with a gasp for air. "I just barely managed to come clean with Troy and now everything is going to come crashing down."

"Well maybe this is for the better," Sharpay offered with a small frown, "One less thing to look over your shoulder about."

"And Kelsi's going to sleep with Troy, and their freaking perfect for each other, a fucking rendition of the notebook!"

"Kelsi and Troy?" Sharpay said, taken aback, "When did that happen?"

"It happened because I insisted that it happen, without insisting that it happen."

Sharpay uttered a slur, "What the hell happened?"

"Why weren't you answering your phone?" Gabriella squealed, "I needed you!"

Sharpay stood up in frustration and dropped the sheet to reveal her nakedness that she been hiding before, "Because you're not the only one in this town having sex."

"Oh my god you're naked," Gabriella took in Sharpay's naked body, her head tiling a bit, "Are your pubes shaped like a heart?"

"Yes," Sharpay said, standing proudly in her birthday suit.

"Oh my god," Gabriella said, bringing a hand to her head, "Is he still here?"

"I haven't untied him yet, if that's what you're asking," she smirked as she bent down to gather the sheet.

"Oh my god," Gabriella lifted the bottle to her lips again and began to chug.

"Listen," Sharpay said with a sigh, "make yourself at home, have another bottle of wine. Let me take care of my guest and put some clothes on."

Gabriella nodded earnestly as she hugged the bottle to her chest. "Good idea."

Troy

Troy woke up the next morning with Blue sprawled across him. As he sat up slowly, he let out a sigh, reaching down to scratch behind the dog's ears. Blue's presence confirmed what he already suspected—Gabriella hadn't come home last night. The details after their dinner were a blur. Gabriella had been unusually quiet, leaving Donny and Kelsi to fill the silence with idle chatter. But Troy hadn't paid much attention to their conversation; his mind was too preoccupied with Gabriella.

He'd wanted to hold her hand, to rest his palm on the small of her back. The frustration of not being able to do those things gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. Maybe he shouldn't have encouraged her to date Donny. Maybe he shouldn't have said what he did the other night. He could've just let things be, let her seduce him as she always did. He wanted her—God, how he wanted her. But he didn't want the fragments of her attention. He was tired of being a secret. He wanted it all. To kiss her openly, to hold her hand on the Ferris wheel, to dance with her, slow and close, in a crowded room.

The thought of losing Gabriella terrified him. If she decided to walk away, it would gut him. He loved her, every part of her—her bluntness, her clear-cut view of the world, even the way she wrestled with the in-between. He loved that she accepted him, flaws and all. Most of all, he loved that she was his friend—his best friend. With her, he could share everything, even the things guys didn't talk about. It gave him a sense of security and confidence he hadn't known before.

But right now, he felt anything but secure. The uncertainty of how she'd react to seeing him with Kelsi made his heart race, his head throb, and sweat break out along his back.

The preivous night.

"Relax, she loves you," Kelsi's voice broke through his thoughts as she leaned against the countertop.

"How can you be so sure?" Troy asked, pouring food into Blue's bowl.

"When I told her I was going to sleep with you tonight, her eyes nearly popped out of her head," Kelsi laughed, hopping onto the counter.

Troy straightened, setting the cup down. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Because for the last four years, you've always been there. Ready and available. Let her wonder for once. Nothing sparks urgency like the idea of someone else sleeping with your Boyfriend."

"And what if she's with Donny?"

"She's not."

"How do you know?"

Kelsi sighed, pulling out her phone. "Because Donny is outside waiting for me."

Troy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know, this is why girls don't like you," he muttered.

"And this is why all my best friends are guys," she shot back.

"So, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Wait for her. She'll either spill her guts and run into your arms or burn the place down with you in it." Kelsi hopped off the counter and reached for an apple from the bowl on the counter top. "Hope you know where the water hose is?"

Blue suddenly leaped off the bed, snapping Troy back to the present. His paws thundered downstairs, and Troy sank back onto the bed with a sigh of relief—Gabriella was home. But then, he heard Blue growling. And Blue didn't growl at just anyone.

Gabriella

Sharpay pulled up to Gabriella's house, the engine idling as she glanced toward the driveway. Gabriella hesitated, her hand hovering on the door handle, when her eyes locked on a red Mustang parked by the curb. Her heart sank.

"Jason?" Sharpay whispered, dread creeping into her voice. "What's he doing here?"

"No idea," Gabriella murmured, grabbing the bag of clothes Sharpay had lent her. The thought of wearing yesterday's wrinkled dress had been mortifying, and Sharpay's running shorts and t-shirt had been a small mercy.

"Need backup?" Sharpay asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Want me to ram his car?"

Gabriella smirked, but the humor quickly faded. "Maybe I should go inside first."

"Should I come with you?" Sharpay offered.

"Maybe not. If they're not killing each other, they might just be plotting something worse. Circle the block?"

"You got it," Sharpay said, her expression softening.

Gabriella stepped out, clutching her bag tightly, and walked toward the Mustang. Anger simmered beneath the surface as she resisted the urge to key the car. She slipped inside the house, closing the door quietly behind her, the sound of low voices drawing her toward the kitchen.

"You have no right to be here," Troy's voice was firm, defensive.

"And you have no right keeping her from me," Jason retorted, his tone icy.

"I told you, even if I knew where she was, I wouldn't tell you. Haven't you caused enough damage?"

Gabriella leaned against the wall, taking a steadying breath. "You've got a lot of nerve, Jason. Give me two reasons I shouldn't Carrie Underwood your car right now."

"Gabs," Jason turned, startled, his eyes meeting hers as Troy straightened.

"Where's Blue?" she asked, her gaze darting around the room, searching for her dog.

"Relax, he's outside," Jason muttered, shifting to reveal a napkin wrapped around his wrist. "The damn dog bit me."

"I should buy that dog a steak," Troy quipped, folding his arms.

Gabriella stepped further into the room, her eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"

Jason gestured to a box on the counter. "Your stupid books got forwarded to my place. I was going to take them up to your room, but your new boyfriend wouldn't let me past the stairs."

Gabriella's brow furrowed. "Why didn't you just send them to Michael? Or mail them here."

Jason sighed, his frustration evident. "Because we needed to talk anyway."

"About?" Gabriella crossed her arms.

Jason glanced at Troy, who hadn't moved from his spot. "Are you two a thing now?"

"That's none of your business," Gabriella snapped.

Jason smirked. "Hey," he held up his hands. "The divorce is final. I give a rats ass what you're up to."

"Then leave," Troy said, his voice low and dangerous.

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Bet you're pleased with yourself, finally getting what you've wanted all these years. Tell me, do my sloppy seconds taste good?"

"Get out," Troy growled, stepping closer.

"Troy," Gabriella intervened, placing a calming hand on his arm. "I can handle this. Go check on Blue."

"I'd prefer to stay," Troy insisted, his gaze locked on Jason.

"Please," Gabriella urged, her voice softening.

With a reluctant nod, Troy left, casting a final glare at Jason as he disappeared into the backyard.

Gabriella turned back to Jason, her patience waning. "Was that necessary?"

Jason shrugged. "He's always had a thing for you. I told you that. Sure enough, here you are, still living with him. Guy probably raids your underwear drawer when your not around."

"Why are you really here?" Gabriella pressed.

Jason's expression hardened. "Martha's pregnant."

Her world shifted and she placed a hand on the countertop as she tried to keep her balance. "Congrats." she said blandly.

"I'm struggling to make ends meet. I need a loan, some spare cash just for a while."

Shaking her head she let out a sigh. "We've been over this. I'm not giving you anymore money. If that's what you drove all way back into town for, you wasted your time. Go through the lawyers," Gabriella said, folding her arms again.

Jason sighed. "Look, I've been thinking—"

"That's never good," she interjected.

"Maybe we should set up a few interviews and see how it goes," Jason said in a calm voice, "It's only a matter of time before someone finds out who you are. Wouldn't you rather control the story than have some college kid get the lead."

Gabriella's expression darkened. "How much did he pay you?"

Jason stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb," she said, disgust evident in her voice. "You sold me out. You were the one who gave me up to the Boston Globe."

Jason hesitated for a moment and she thought he might try to deny it. His shoulders slumped. "It was only a matter of time."

"My privacy, my life, the people I care about—what about them?" Gabriella's voice rose, her anger boiling over.

Jason scoffed. "You say that like I don't have my own life, privacy and people I care about."

"Oh yeah, people you cared about so much that you left without a word in the middle of night," Gabriella scolded. "You're pathetic," she spat.

Jason's eyes flashed with anger. "We're in this mess because our marriage was a joke. You never even gave us a shot. You were always in love with him."

"No we're in this position because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants," Gabriella said, crossing her arms, "at least I gave our marriage a shot."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, that the four years of our life together was you giving it a shot."

Gabriella was stunned into silence, struggling to find the right words.

Jason shoved the box of books off the counter. Gabriella flinched, stepping back. "You've been writing about him since you came into town. You think it's easy to be married to someone who's obviously fantasizing about someone else," Jason admitted, his voice cold. "I wasted four years of my life and now I'm living in a completely different town and I can't get a job. You think it's easy taking money from you? You think I want anything to do with these stupid books?"

"Jason," she said softly.

"No. But selling you out was the best feeling I had in years. You're right. It's not right. But, I'm on a cheap allowance when we could be making more money; think about the appearances, the physical interviews, and the signings."

"Fuck you," Gabriella said, her voice shaking. "I'll make sure you don't see a penny."

Jason smirked. "I get half of it automatically."

Gabriella clenched her fists. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Here's the thing." Jason's grin widened. "You don't have to say anything. Because all I have to do is set the ball rolling."

"Get out," Gabriella demanded, pointing to the door.

Jason made his way towards it, muttering under his breath. Gabriella let out a breath, her anger simmering. "And don't bother coming back."

"You're such a Bitch," he accused.

"Go to hell," Gabriella said, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I'm already there, thanks again for destroying my life." Jason began making his way to the front door again.

"Destroying your life!" she called out to him, anger filled her and she quickly reached for the frying pan resting on the drying rack and flung it at him. Hitting him dead in the back of his head and knocking him to the floor instantly. "Oh my god."

Sharpay entered, her eyes widening in shock. "You killed him?"

"No... maybe?" Gabriella stammered, staring at Jason's unconscious form.

"Maybe?" Sharpay gasped, nudging the frying pan away with her foot. "Now you've gone and done it, what are we gonna do if he's dead?"

Just then the back screen door opened, "Everything alright?" Troy said, peeking.

"I killed him," Gabriella panicked.

"You what?" Troy opened the door wider as he came in to see Jason laying on the floor and Sharpay reaching to check his pulse.

"Relax, he ain't dead, out cold but he ain't dead. Bleeding pretty bad though."

"What the hell happened?" Troy said coming further into the kitchen and over to where Sharpay was hovering near Jason's body.

"I was upset," Gabriella explained, "I didn't mean to hit him, I just wanted to scare him a little."

"Well you scared the stuffing right out of him," Sharpay said as took out her cell phone.

At the hospital, Gabriella slumped into a waiting room chair, her guilt weighing heavily on her. The image of Jason lying on their kitchen floor, bleeding, haunted her. She sighed deeply, already imagining the town's rumor mill churning out stories about her supposed attempted murder. Half the town probably pictured her in a prison jumpsuit, rattling a tin cup against the bars.

Her phone hadn't stopped ringing since she climbed into the ambulance with Jason and the paramedics. The paramedics' jokes stung, and the sympathetic looks from everyone only added to her frustration. The entire morning had spiraled into a disaster. All she wanted was to go home, talk to Troy, and spend the weekend hidden away in his or her bedroom—anywhere but here.

She glanced at her phone again, noting three missed calls from Michael, three voicemails, and two text messages. One message stood out: her picture was in the Boston Globe, right next to a front-page story exposing her secret life as Brie Carmichael. The Real Brie Carmichael, as if that college reporter had any idea who she really was. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control.

Troy

Troy sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of Gabriella, his expression stern. "We need to talk."

Gabriella leaned back in her chair, clearly exhausted. "Do we have to?"

"Yes." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, she leaned forward. "Fine."

"Where did you go last night?"

"Sharpay's," she replied, rubbing her temple. "I didn't know I had to check in—"

"Of course you did. Why didn't you call?" His eyes locked on hers, his concern evident.

"I thought you'd be busy," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "With Kelsi."

His gaze softened as he reached out, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek. "There's nothing going on between Kelsi and I. She's just a friend. I would never do that to you. Ever."

Gabriella's demeanor shifted, her eyes lifting to meet his. "Nothing happened?"

His brow furrowed. "She went home with Donny. Hope you didn't have any expectations there."

She huffed. "Not even a little bit."

Troy smiled slightly. "I think we can both agree that dating other people is not for us."

"Agreed." She smiled softly then let out a long sigh. "I don't want to date anyone but you."

Troy let out a long breath as he reached for her hand. "I know. I messed around a lot—too much. I'd like to say I did some soul-searching when I thought I hit rock bottom, but I'm just not that deep." He shrugged, a hollow smile twisting his lips. "But I realized something. All those women, they didn't mean a damn thing because my heart was never in it. I felt nothing for them." His thumb brushed across the back of her knuckles. "But with you? It's different. I feel something real. Something... pure."

Gabriella's smile faltered, her expression clouding with pain.

"What's wrong?" Troy asked, his concern immediate.

Her voice came out as a whisper, barely containing the hurt. "Jason… he sold me out."

Troy frowned, confusion etching deep lines into his face. "What are you talking about? Sold you out how?"

Gabriella looked away, blinking back tears. "The secret I kept—about my writing. He sold the story to a reporter. For cash."

Troy's frown deepened as understanding dawned. "Wait. You're saying Jason… What happened, Gabriella? What's going on?"

"When this all started, writing was just a way to honor my parents. I used my first royalties to pay off my mother's medical debt. I thought that was a blessing. I never thought it would amount to anything more than that, but then the second book took off. When my mom died, I took my book money and decided to travel. That's how I ended up here—close to my agent. Close to Jason and you."

Troy's brow furrowed. "Your agent?"

"This is so humiliating," she admitted, her voice breaking. "We'd been together for a little while, and I thought I could trust him. I told him about my writing, about Brie Carmichael. At first, he seemed supportive. He told me about the garage, how it was struggling. He painted this picture of a thriving business that just needed a little boost to modernize and expand. He made me believe my money would be safe—a temporary investment to set all of us up for success. I thought I was helping him... and you."

"How much money are we talking about?" Troy asked, his voice low and tight.

Gabriella shook her head, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. "It snowballed. I started working there and at first it was just book keeping. Making improvements, finding ways to save money. Then we got married and I didn't realize how bad things were—his mismanagement, unpaid invoices, impulsive purchases. The garage was hemorrhaging money, and he'd been lying to you about it for years."

"How much?" he repeated.

She let out a whooshing sigh. "All of it. My savings, my royalties. I thought I was helping, but I was just patching holes in a sinking ship."

Troy's chest tightened, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He had suspected something was wrong back then—he'd seen the stress on Jason's face—but he'd convinced himself they'd worked hard to pull through. Now, he realized he'd been blind.

"We drained my savings to fix it," Gabriella continued quietly. "I thought we were done with it when I turned things around. But it was always something else with him. Even when I kept writing, even when the money kept coming in—when the movie deal happened and I got it all back—it didn't matter. It was never enough for him. He didn't love me. Somehow I messed everything up and it stopped being about us and became about the money. That's why he showed up today. He wanted more."

Troy pulled back slightly, a sharp sting of anger mixing with the icy weight settling in his gut. Troy's jaw tightened. "You're a writer. That's how you had the money to buy the garage?"

She nodded.

Troy's breath caught as realization dawned. "Brie Carmichael… That's you?"

Gabriella nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah. I used a pen name to keep my privacy. I didn't want the spotlight, but now -"

A sharp voice cut through the tension. "How did I know you two would be involved?" They turned to see Martha, visibly pregnant, her glare icy.

Troy sighed as Gabriella's face hardened. "Martha."

Gabriella's gaze dropped to Martha's swollen belly, her breath catching. The reality of Jason's betrayal felt like a punch to the gut.

"Troy," Martha sneered before turning to Gabriella. "You."

Gabriella's smile faded. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual."

"Alright," Troy interjected, trying to diffuse the situation. "Let's just leave."

"We intend to press charges," Martha declared.

"You don't even know what happened," Gabriella retorted, standing.

Martha placed a protective hand over her belly. "Do I need to? When it's you, trouble isn't far behind."

"Hey," Troy said, guiding Gabriella by the small of her back. "We're leaving."

"Good riddance," Martha muttered, turning to the nurses' station. "Where's my fiancé?"

Just then Sharpay entered, carrying two coffees. She stopped in front of Martha, "Well, If you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas," she quipped, eyeing Martha's stomach. "My condolences."

"Sharpay," Troy warned, but Sharpay didn't miss a beat immediately coming to Gabriella's side.

Relieved that the situation was diffused for now they exited the hospital.

"Hey," Sharpay watched Gabriella closely. "Gabi? You okay?"

Gabriella barely made it to a trash can before she was sick, her body shaking with each heave. Sharpay gently rubbed her back.

"If it helps, she has cankles," Sharpay whispered.

Troy ran a hand through his hair, his mind spinning. The weight of everything she'd confessed settled heavily on his shoulders, leaving him momentarily paralyzed.

Gabriella had been his rock, silently supporting him while he had been completely oblivious to the storm she was weathering alone. She had paid off his debts, kept his business afloat, all while living under the suffocating shadow of a man who had taken advantage of her kindness and generosity.

Troy's hands curled into fists at his sides as he thought of Jason. The man had not only betrayed Gabriella's trust, but he had also exploited her love and generosity. He had taken everything she had to offer and demanded more, leaving her to suffer the consequences.

It wasn't just the betrayal of love that cut deep—it was the realization that someone she had trusted, someone she had loved, had seen her as nothing more than a means to an end. That Jason had not only broken her heart but had also compromised her sense of self-worth.

Troy took a steadying breath, his resolve hardening. His fists clenched at the thought. If the frying pan didn't kill Jason, Troy just might finish the job himself.

Gabriella

Gabriella sat in the backseat of Troy's truck, her heart pounding as the silence stretched between the three of them. The tension was suffocating, each breath she took feeling heavier than the last. Sharpay sat beside her, her hand gently resting on Gabriella's back, offering a quiet form of comfort. Every few minutes, Sharpay's phone would chime, breaking the silence, and she would quickly respond to whatever message had come through. Gabriella barely registered the sound; her mind was still reeling from everything that had transpired.

Martha had been VERY pregnant. The image of her swollen belly was burned into Gabriella's mind, the shock of it still making her stomach twist with a mix of humiliation and disbelief. She hadn't expected Martha to be so far along, and the realization only added another layer of shame to an already overwhelming day. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and now with Troy knowing everything, she couldn't help but feel like she was unraveling.

The truck jolted to a sudden stop, snapping Gabriella out of her thoughts. She looked up, her eyes widening in horror as she saw the swarm of reporters camped out in Troy's front yard. Cameras flashed, microphones were held high, and a low murmur of voices could be heard even from inside the vehicle.

"We have a problem," Troy muttered, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Gabriella's breath hitched, her heart sinking into her stomach. "Oh god," she whispered, the bile rising in her throat again.

"Any suggestions?" Troy asked, his voice tight as he glanced back at the two women.

"My place," Sharpay offered quickly.

Gabriella's panic flared. "What about Blue? We can't leave him!" The thought of leaving her dog behind amidst the chaos made her feel even more frantic.

"He's a dog. He'll be fine," Sharpay said soothingly, though her tone was firm.

Troy let out a heavy sigh, leaning his head back against the seat. "You girls wait here," he instructed, already opening the door.

"Are you crazy?" Sharpay hissed, her eyes wide with concern.

"I'm going with you," Gabriella said, moving to follow him. She couldn't just sit there while everything spiraled further out of control.

Troy and Sharpay turned to her in unison. "What?" Troy's voice was sharp, laced with protective frustration.

"I need my bag. It's got my laptop in it," Gabriella explained, her brow furrowed with determination. The thought of her laptop, containing everything from her personal notes to her unpublished work, left her feeling exposed in an entirely different way.

"I'll get the damn bag. You stay in the truck," Troy insisted, his tone brooking no argument. He pointed firmly at her, his gaze unwavering. "I mean it, Gabi. Stay your ass in the truck."

With that, he slammed the door and began making his way through the crowd of reporters, his presence commanding as he tried to clear a path. Gabriella watched him go, her heart pounding with anxiety and guilt.

"He knows, doesn't he?" Sharpay's voice was gentle, breaking through the fog in Gabriella's mind.

Gabriella nodded slowly, burying her face in her hands. "I told him at the hospital," she admitted, her voice muffled by her palms.

Sharpay's eyes softened as she turned to look at her. "Did you know Martha was pregnant?"

"Yes," Gabriella whispered, lifting her head slightly. "I just didn't know she was that pregnant." The weight of her words hung in the air, the reality of the situation sinking deeper into her chest.

They both fell silent, their gazes fixed on Troy as he worked his way through the crowd. The reporters buzzed around him like a swarm, their cameras flashing incessantly.

"Did he take it well?" Sharpay asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know," Gabriella confessed, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. "Martha showed up before we could really talk about it."

Sharpay let out a soft sigh, her eyes never leaving Troy. "Well," she murmured, "this is going to be a long night, isn't it?"

Gabriella nodded, the sinking feeling in her stomach confirming what they both already knew. The night was far from over, and the challenges they faced were only just beginning.

Troy

Troy stood in the shadows of Sharpay's study, his gaze fixed on the quiet street outside. The ice clinked in his glass as he tilted it to his lips, letting the liquid burn its way down his throat. The bitterness was fitting—fitting for the way he felt, for the storm raging inside his head.

Who in their right mind carries a torch for their best friend's girl? Who spends all that time idolizing someone from the sidelines that they didn't even know?

How much money did she have? How much did Jason hate him to do what he did? Why would Jason do such a thing? What had he ever done to either of them to be deceived this way?

Was any of it even real?

He thought he knew Gabriella—thought he knew Jason, too. Now everything felt like a lie.

The clink of ice sounded again as he drained the last of his drink, the street outside offering no comfort, no clarity. The betrayal from his best friend was one thing, but the lies from Gabriella—she owed him nothing, and yet it still burned.

"Alone in the dark?"

He turned as Sharpay flipped on the light, illuminating the room. Her perfume hit him before her presence fully registered. Everything about Sharpay was loud—her hair, her nails, her clothes, her laugh. She was the opposite of Gabriella in every way, and yet they were best friends. He'd never quite figured that one out.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she teased, walking toward him.

"No, thanks."

Sharpay sighed and came to stand beside him by the window. "You're a stubborn man, Troy Bolton. You know that?"

"And you're persistent," he shot back, his tone flat.

She leaned against the window frame, her sharp gaze scanning the street. "She's been on the phone since we got here," she said, voice quieter now. "That woman is charging hell with a bucket of ice water."

He frowned. "Why are you up here?"

"Because you look suicidal."

"I'm not."

Sharpay studied him, her lips pursed like she wanted to say more but wasn't sure if she should. Finally, she said, "You want my advice?"

"No."

"A drought usually ends with a flood."

He shot her a glare. What did that even mean? Sharpay always spoke in riddles, half of which didn't make sense. "How long have you known?"

"Is that really going to help you feel better?" she retorted, crossing her arms.

"A warning would've been nice."

She huffed a laugh, reaching for his glass and taking it from him. "I hear you clucking, but I don't see your nest."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're acting like a headless chicken, running around in circles. What's really got you so upset, Troy?"

He pushed off the wall, anger flaring. "Everything was a lie."

"Why? Because she's not as helpless as you thought? Or is it because you're realizing you're not the knight in shining armor you wanted to be?"

"What?" He narrowed his eyes at her, his voice sharp. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me," she said, holding his gaze with an intensity that rivaled his own.

Before either of them could say more, the door opened, and Gabriella stepped inside. She looked exhausted, her ponytail limp, a book in one hand and her phone in the other. Despite everything, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"What's going on here?" she asked, her voice weary.

"Nothing," Sharpay said breezily, taking his empty glass. "I'll be downstairs if you need me. You two obviously have some things to discuss."

The silence stretched again, heavier this time. He didn't want to fight with her, but he didn't know how to move past this, either. Every time he looked at her, the weight of everything unsaid pressed harder against his chest.

He wondered what changes would come next. Would she have to leave Payne Springs? The question made his entire body break out into a cold sweat. He hadn't thought about that before. What did it mean? Clearly, she didn't need him. She wasn't bound to Payne Springs. If she wanted to go she could. If she didn't have a reason to stay, why would she?

"Are you angry?" She asked.

Her question caught him off guard and he jumped a little. He didn't want to tell her the truth, he didn't want to lie to her either. But what was he holding on to?

How much has changed? Would things ever go back to how they were? Could he forget everything he learned? Forgive the way they made a fool of him? He had to know why Jason did what he did.

Gabriella lifted a hand to wipe a tear from her check and he realized that she was still waiting for an answer.

"Yes."

Her face shifted, hurt and fear etched there as she looked away from him. "Troy, there's one more thing you should know."

He turned slightly, his brow furrowing. "What is it now?"

"This new book I've been working on," she said, her voice trembling. "It's… it's about us."

His arms fell to his sides as he turned fully toward her. "What do you mean It's about us?"

"I mean… It's a fictionalized version of our relationship. Obviously, I didn't write down everything but the situation is pretty close to home."

He let out a huff of disbelief. "Obviously? As if that has any meaning between us. Nothing about any of this has been obvious." He watched her carefully. "Has any of this been real?"

Her flinch was immediate, her eyes welling with tears. "What?"

"I mean it, Gabriella. Was any of this real, or was it all just for the book?"

"How could you even ask me that?" she snapped, her voice breaking.

"How could I not ask you that?" he countered, anger rising again. "You've been lying to me this whole time!"

"No, I-"

"Yes you have! You paid for a job I gave you. You married Jason to keep him quiet. You've been living in my home with an entirely secret life. One where you're running my business, making me out to be an idiot, and now you're writing about me in a book?" He grabbed the book from the table and threw it against the wall behind her. "Because if it wasn't enough, let's write it all down on paper and mass distribute it for additional humiliation!"

"It's not like that!" She shouted back at him.

"Then what's it like?" Troy's voice lowered as he took three steps towards her. "Tell me you haven't been poking fun at the love sick moron for the last five years because at the moment I'm having a really hard time even looking at you."

"I have done no such thing," Gabriella argued as she tossed the book at him. "And if you'd just stop being a little baby about it and read it for yourself you'd know that."

"I shouldn't have to read it for myself, that's the point. I should be able to trust you enough not to go behind my back!"

"I haven't gone behind your back," Gabriella stressed.

"You're right, because I've been stupid enough to think that you needed my help. That I was doing you a favor by giving you a place to sleep. Little did I know you've been living in my home, eating my food, taking my money and doing this," he quickly reached for the book from the floor and waved it in her face, "right in front of me! You're right! This is 100% my fault."

Her mouth fell open, stunned, as he moved toward the door.

"Troy, wait—"

"No, the world's biggest idiot is going home. To his home. Alone. You can get your things in the morning."

"Troy?"

"We're done," he said coldly, cutting her off.

"Please, let me explain!"

But he didn't turn back. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the room, panic and regret etched across her face.

Gabriella

The sound of her phone vibrating broke the silence, and Gabriella glanced down at the screen. Michael. With a resigned sigh, she sank back onto the couch and answered.

"Gabriella?"

"What is it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and tired.

"I take it things aren't going so well?"

"What do you want, Michael?"

"The board wants you in tomorrow morning," he said, his tone clipped and professional. "We're working on rebranding you. This is it for Brie Carmichael. Your readers want to see the real you. So, we're going to give them what they want."

"What time?"

"Nine a.m."

"I'll be there."

She ended the call and let the phone slip from her hand to the side table. Her body felt heavy, like it had lost the strength to hold itself together. A single tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away absently with trembling fingers.

"Here."

The voice startled her, and she looked up to find Sharpay standing in front of her, holding out a glass of scotch, neat. Gabriella's eyes flicked to the drink, and she winced.

"Trust me," Sharpay said softly. "It's the only way you're getting any sleep tonight."

"Did you hear all of that?" Gabriella asked, hesitant.

Sharpay gave a small, sad smile. "Brought you the drink, didn't I?"

Gabriella took the glass, her fingers curling around it, though she didn't lift it to her lips right away. "Is this really all my fault?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Blue appeared at her side. His snout resting on her knee as he glanced up at her, his eyes full of concern. His love still steady and adoring. He let out a whimper as he shifted from foot to foot and she reached out softly, giving him a scratch behind his ear.

Sharpay crouched on the coffee table in front of her, meeting her gaze. "I can't lie to you, baby girl. You've definitely dug yourself into a hole. He feels like an idiot. And men? They don't handle feeling like idiots very well. It messes with their testosterone."

"He kicked me out," Gabriella murmured, staring into the amber liquid in her glass.

"He doesn't mean it," Sharpay replied.

"Doesn't he?"

Sharpay sighed, her voice softening. "Trust me. Give him a day or two to cool off."

Gabriella hesitated, then brought the glass to her lips. The scotch burned on the way down, making her grimace. "I can't drink this."

"Try," Sharpay urged gently. "After the day you've had, you're going to need sleep."

Gabriella set the glass down, shaking her head. "I've ruined everything. My life, my career… him."

"Nothing's ruined," Sharpay said firmly, rising to her feet. "You just need to do things differently from now on." She paused, offering Gabriella a hand. "Come on. You can have your pity party in my room tonight. But tomorrow? Tomorrow, you go home and start fixing things."

Troy

The next morning Troy stood in the hospital room waiting patiently beside Jason's bed. Martha had been diligently sitting at his bedside when he came in and he instructed her to go get something to eat.

She hesitated but eventually decided to leave her husband's side.

Troy hovered over Jason cautiously staring down at the man he thought he should be ashamed to face all these years. The same man that he thought he owed an explanation to. The very man who led him to believe that he was scum just for feeling the way he did about his wife. Only this whole time Jason was making a fool of him.

Jason slowly opened his eyes.

Like a trigger reaction Troy's fist made instant contact with his face.

"What the fuck," Jason jerked upright in the bed his hand shot up to his face catching the spurts of blood draining out of his nose.

"That's for what you did to my grandfather's garage."

Jason's eyes blinked back a few times as he searched the room, "This is illegal."

"Why did you marry her? Was it just for the money?"

"Fuck you."

"Answer the question."

Jason flinched and scooted back in his bed, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Troy said, reaching for Jason's shirt collar and yanking him forward."Seriously."

"Shit, back off man." Jason squirmed a bit, his fingers still pinching the bridge of his bleeding nose.

"You slimy son of a bitch. You took advantage of her."

"Whoa," Jason's eyes opened wide, "I never made her do anything she didn't want to do. She didn't want anyone to know about the money and she only gave me the money because she thought you were in trouble. That's when I knew."

"Knew what!" Troy gripped his shirt tighter.

"I knew she was into you." Jason wiggled away, trying to put distance between them. "So what if she had a stupid crush, she was already sleeping in my bed. You don't always get what you want."

Troy punched him again.

"Fuck," Jason sputtered as he covered his busted lip.

"You knew how I felt about her," Troy growled.

"So what? In the end she picked me." Jason grunted. "I'm the one she opened up to, I'm the one she went home with, I'm the one she married."

"How could you do it? After manipulating her and going through her savings how could you do all that and then cheat on her?"

"I don't know, it's not like I had a master plan. It just happened." Jason responded as he winced in pain, "Do you have any idea what it's like to be married to someone who doesn't love you?"

"No, I don't. Because I don't make a habit of praying on people for their money."

"Oh fuck you," Jason grunted, "Not all of us are as lucky as you are, things don't just fall into our lap like they do for you. You've had it made all your fucking life. The high school stud, given a business of your own right out of high school. As if you ever had to struggle in your life. So excuse me if I have to be a little more proactive with what's mine."

"She wasn't yours to begin with," Troy gripped the edge of the bed and Jason held up his hands to protect his face.

"Not the face, not the face, not the face!"

Troy fought back the urge to punch him again. His breathing hard as he glared at this stranger he thought was his best friend. Someone he'd once treated like a brother.

"You need to leave," Troy let go of the bed and took two steps back, "You don't get to come back, you don't get to ask her for money and you don't get to mess with her life anymore. I swear to God, Jason, if I see you again-"

"I got it," Jason let out a wince as he reached up to his bleeding lip. "You win."

"There was nothing to win in the first place Jason." Troy lifted his hand and brought it up through his hair. "I thought you were my friend, I thought we were family, how could you let this happen?"

"I don't know."

Silence filled the room again as Jason reached over for the tissue box to tend to his nose and lip.

"You want to know what the worst part of it was." Jason murmured.

"Is it gonna make me want to punch you again," Troy contested.

Jason let out a huff and shook his head. "What made it worse were the books," he said grimly, "she writes all these stories about falling in love with you over and over again and again. I mean she changes the story but it's always the same bullshit."

Troy pushed himself away from the wall and took a step forward.

"What are you talking about?"

"The books," Jason said looking up at him. "You're always that guy. He's always you. The first time I read one I was so stupid, I thought she was describing me. I felt like such an fucking idiot."

The room went quiet again.

"I haven't read them."

"Yeah well," Jason frowned as he plucked three more tissues from the box and brought them to his nose. "You should. Especially you."

"Oh my god, Jason!" Martha shrieked as she ran across the room, "Nurse! Nurse!"

"He's fine." Troy said, crossing his arms.

"He's bleeding and he already has a minor concussion! What is wrong with you people? Why can't you just leave us alone?" Martha hugged her husband.

"Well, why don't you both think about that the next time you think about asking Gabriella for more money," Troy offered as he began to make his way to the door.

"You did what?" Martha's voice shrieked in surprise as she looked down at Jason.

Her purse lifted and came down over his head with a thud. "Is that why you decided to come alone? To ask for money! I thought you said we were fine!"

"I can explain."

"You bet your ass you're gonna explain!" Martha said sternly.

Troy motioned to the door, "I'm just gonna shut this and let you guys get some privacy," he said although he was sure they didn't hear him.

As he walked away the muffled sound of their argument brought a smile to his lips.

Gabriella

It was almost three in the afternoon before Gabriella was allowed to leave the studio. She'd been plucked, fluffed, hair sprayed and painted for the last three hours. She'd been through three interviews, one for the local paper, one for Good Morning America and another that was scheduled to air later tonight on the 10 o'clock evening news as a feature story.

Now she stood in the driveway looking up at her house with mixed feelings. For almost two years she'd called this place home. She considered Troy to be her best friend. She even fell in love with him. The last thought made the lump in her throat swell. How was she supposed to go in there and face him? How was she just supposed to pack all her things up and leave? Where would she go? Should she leave Payne Springs? Could she handle staying and running into him at the market?

What about the garage?

Gabriella fingers gripped a little tighter on her duffle bag as she braced herself for the emotional goodbye she was going to have to face with the life she once had. The relationship that had just started. The man who would haunt her dreams for many sleepless nights to come. With one last deep breath she began walking towards the house unsure about what she was going to find inside.

When she opened the front door she was greeted with silence. A dull sound of the refrigerator humming peacefully in the kitchen. There were no murmurs coming from the television in the living room, no chopping sounds coming from the kitchen table where he might be preparing dinner.

Not even the quiet footsteps of someone upstairs. The house was empty. And somehow that hurt even more.

Quietly she made her way to her bedroom. She'd be gone in a few hours. All this heartache would be just a thing in her past. She'd walk away from all this. Away from Troy. Away from Jason. Away from her past. A tear slid down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. She'd cry about it later. Right now she just wanted to be gone. Gone before she did something stupid like wait for Troy to come home and beg him to let her stay.

Troy

Troy let out a low moan as he rubbed the back of his neck. He spent the entire afternoon in the garage. He spent all morning sitting on the couch waiting. Watching the clock. Waiting for her to show up. They needed to talk. He needed to talk. And then he couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave. He had to do something. Anything, just so he wouldn't think about her. Crave her touch and need to hear the sound of her voice. He had to get out of there before he lost it.

Everything in that house reminded him of her. The green kitchen cabinets, the candles on the coffee table. The basket of throw blankets she put in the corner of his living room. His recliner. The sanded and restrained floor, the stairs leading upstairs to her bedroom. Even standing in the hallway he could smell the faint hint of her perfume. He didn't know what to say to her. What he was capable of once they were face to face. Because chances were he would want her.

He wanted her horribly and he couldn't bear not having her.

Troy stepped out of his truck and climbed the porch steps, the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. He unlocked the front door and let himself in, greeted by an eerie silence. Something about the stillness prickled at the edges of his thoughts, but he brushed it off as he headed toward the kitchen.

At first, he didn't notice it. His eyes drifted over the empty spaces almost absentmindedly until something clicked. The spots where certain things used to be—her favorite mug by the sink, the small bowl where she kept her keys—were empty.

No.

His chest tightened as a sinking feeling settled in. He turned sharply toward the living room, his gaze landing where Blue's pillow had always been, nestled beside the television. It was gone.

A rising sense of panic propelled him up the stairs. He took them two at a time, his heart hammering in his chest. When he reached the bedroom, he flung the door open, and the sight hit him like a punch to the gut.

Gone.

The walls of Post-its she used to plaster with thoughts, dreams, and reminders were bare. Her perfume bottles, once neatly arranged on the dresser, were no longer there. The bed was stripped down to its frame, as if she'd never slept there at all.

Troy stood frozen, the reality sinking in like a lead weight. He shouldn't be surprised. He'd told her to leave. He'd pushed her away, his anger blinding him to what that might actually mean.

But he didn't think she'd go. Not like this.

The shock hit him like a storm, tearing through him, shredding everything in its path. He didn't know what to do now. How to fix what he'd broken.

All he knew was that she was gone—and it was entirely his fault.

Gabriella

Later that evening, Gabriella slumped into one of the booths at Chad's Place, pulling off her sweater and glancing out the window toward her truck. Blue was happily devouring his dinner, oblivious to the storm swirling inside her. Her stomach growled, and she pressed a hand against it, trying to muffle the noise.

"You can't be serious about leaving town," Taylor said, sliding into the booth beside her. "I have so many questions, and now you're just going to leave?"

"This is such a terrible idea," Sharpay chimed in from across the table, arms crossed.

"Where are you even planning to go?" Taylor asked.

Gabriella shrugged, her expression guarded. "I've packed up and left before. I can do it again."

"Yeah, but last time your truck ended up in a ditch," Sharpay pointed out.

Gabriella gave her a tight smile. "And I found a mechanic and got it towed, didn't I?"

Taylor leaned closer, her voice softening. "Are you coming back?"

Gabriella's gaze flickered between her two best friends. The ache in her chest felt unbearable, like it would swallow her whole. "Payne Springs has been my home for almost five years. I've been married, cheated on, divorced, gossiped about, and now, after this latest scandal, that's never going to change."

"So fuck people. Let them talk," Sharpay said quietly. "Stay."

"I can't," Gabriella said, her voice cracking.

"It's one breakup," Taylor said gently, though there was a knowing edge to her tone. "Soon he'll just be another guy."

Gabriella nodded, but the tears welling in her eyes betrayed her. She brushed one away quickly, focusing on the shredded napkin in her hands. She couldn't fault Taylor—how could she understand? Troy wasn't just another guy. He was the love of her life. The man she should have married.

Instead, he'd kicked her out of his home. Out of his life.

Gabriella leaned back in the booth, her eyes wandering to Chad behind the bar as he mixed drinks and joked with patrons. She was going to miss this place—the warmth of it, the familiarity. But the thought of running into Troy at the market, of seeing him with someone else, made her stomach twist. The image of him whispering in another woman's ear or resting his hand on the small of her back was unbearable.

Her gaze shifted back to the truck. Blue had finished his food and sat contentedly beside the bowl, looking as comfortable as ever. Did he even know what was happening? Did he sense the chaos brewing inside her?

"I just can't stay here," Gabriella said finally, her voice barely audible. Her fingers toyed with the remnants of the napkin, her heart feeling like it had been shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces.

She let out a sigh, knowing that staying in Payne Springs would mean facing Troy again. She couldn't risk it. She couldn't survive another door slamming shut in her face.

Taylor sighed, resting a hand over Gabriella's. "I know you're hurting, and I know you need some space. Just promise me you'll come back and visit, okay?"

"You have to call every day," Sharpay added, her voice wavering. "No exceptions."

"I will," Gabriella promised with a small nod.

The table fell into silence, a heavy, bittersweet moment hanging between them. Finally, they stood, and Gabriella found herself wrapped in a group hug. Tears streamed freely now, silent and unstoppable, as they clung to each other for what felt like the last time.

When Gabriella pulled away, the cold emptiness crept back in. She wished, more than anything, that things were different. But they weren't. And now, all she could do was move forward.

Troy

Troy stood in the kitchen quietly listening to the silence of the house. No dog nails clicked along the floor and came to a stop at his feet. No footsteps above as someone walked from the bathroom to her bedroom getting ready for the day. Troy looked down at his second cup of coffee. He hadn't meant to make enough for two cups, but it was a habit. His entire morning was thrown off.

No dog to let out, no dog food to pour, no one to make coffee for, to ride into work with. His thoughts stilled, he was going to have to hire someone else to do the books at the garage. Lifting his mug he quietly looked down at the book he traveled two hours out of town to buy. He stared at the book cover reading the title for what felt like the million time.

Heart Under the Hood by Brie Carmichael

His body broke into a cold sweat for the fifth time that morning as he thought about opening the book. He took another long sip of his coffee and then let out a sigh as he picked up the book and opened it to the first page. His eyes skimmed over the words, and a memory came flooding back.

"I can only afford to pay you half of what I paid the last girl, at least for now," Jack Briggs said, his hands resting on his hips. His biceps flexed with the motion, and Samantha caught herself staring before quickly gripping her bag tighter under her arm.

"That's fine," she replied, forcing her gaze to meet his. She'd been stranded in this small town for a week now. When she'd returned to the garage to check on her car, she noticed the "Now Hiring" sign in the window. Jack Briggs had that all-American look—blue eyes that radiated warmth and a smile that felt oddly welcoming. Not something she was used to as a stranger passing through.

"This is where you'll be working," Jack said as he flicked on the light to a small office. The fluorescent bulbs buzzed to life, casting an uneven glow over the cramped space. "My office is back there," he added, pointing to the one-way mirror on the far wall. "It's just a safety precaution, not some creepy spy thing or anything." He tapped the glass with a knuckle and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Right," Samantha muttered, glancing around the office. The room was practically bursting with stacks of boxes, taking up nearly every corner. A thin layer of dust coated everything. She brushed her finger along the edge of a nearby box and frowned. "This place could definitely use a good cleaning."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Jack chuckled, his smile catching her off guard. It was the kind of smile that could charm its way past just about anything, and for a second, she forgot what he was even apologizing for.

That was the thing about him—his easy charm rolled off in waves. It made her feet itch with the urge to run, to hightail it out of this town before she got too comfortable. But who was she kidding? She was broke, inexperienced, stranded, and technically homeless. She didn't have the luxury of being picky. She needed this job.

"I can start today if you want," she said, standing a little straighter, willing herself to sound more confident than she felt.

Troy looked up from the first page with a small smile on his lips as he recalled the entire conversation from that day almost five years ago when he brought Gabriella into the office for the first time. Quickly, he flipped a couple of pages back to the publication date. The book had been published four years ago.

A year after they met.

A year after this conversation took place, his lips pulled into a smile as he flipped back over to page two. His eyes began reading once again. Before he knew how it happened he was sitting on his recliner turning the page to chapter five.

The words were breezing past him as he read through the passages, remembering old conversations that had taken place years ago. Laughing at the internal monologue of the lead character as she learned how to change a tire for the first time.

He hadn't even noticed the time slowly slip away from him as Samantha and Jack circled their feelings for each other.

Somewhere around three in the afternoon he made himself a sandwich but continued to read as he ate. The love scenes between Jack and Samantha were intimate, telling, and extremely hot. After the first scene where they made love in his office over his desk he was absolutely sure these were fantasies taken straight from his head and put on paper.

Was it possible that she had the same fantasies, that Jack and Samantha were really just a ruse for Troy and Gabriella? Why had she never told him about this? How had he not noticed the looks, glances, innuendos of their conversations?

It was as if he spent so much time trying to avoid the attraction he had for her that he never noticed the attraction that had been there all along. A pit took form in his stomach at the realization.

And she was gone. Troy put the book down as the sinking feeling made his stomach free fall to his feet.

He let her go. Where had she gone? She didn't have any family. He was her family. Looking at the book he opened the cover page and looked at the publisher information.

She couldn't be gone.

Gabriella

A week later Gabriella looked over the mass of equipment on the table in front of her as someone put her headphones on and adjusted a microphone in front of her. She had been on autopilot for the last few days. In and out of interviews and meetings, Michael and her editor had fallen in love with her latest work. So she was currently on the road promoting it.

Gabriella was on her first live book tour.

Why not?

There wasn't a better time for it. She was homeless—again. Twenty-two cities in three months, filled with book signings, interviews, guest speaker spots, and even hosting a class on overcoming writer's block. Not that she had any profound insight on that, but judging by the way people flocked to her, you'd think she held some secret magic.

"We're on in three," the producer across from her said, glancing at his notes. "You know what you're talking about, right?"

"Yes." The Cowboy's Kiss—her latest novel and the crown jewel of her career as a romance author. She leaned back in the chair, exhaling deeply as she eyed the buttons on the console in front of her. Someone appeared on her right, handing her a glass of water, while another person snapped photos of her from the side.

Beneath the table, Blue sat quietly, leaning against her legs. She reached down to scratch his ears, comforted by his steady presence. He was her anchor, the one constant in her life.

The interviews were all the same: questions about her writing, her inspiration, her characters, her love life. It was like peeling the same wound over and over again, the pain fresh every time.

"We're here with the famous author Brie Carmichael—better known as Gabriella Montez!" the DJ said with a broad smile, gesturing to her.

"Good afternoon," Gabriella replied, her tone polite, leaning into the microphone.

"So, you've been flying under the radar for years. Why step into the spotlight now?"

She smiled tightly, the rehearsed expression she'd perfected for moments like this. "When I first started writing, it wasn't about the money or the fame. It was about my mother."

"Your mother?" The DJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yes. She suffered from dementia. While most patients respond to music or photos, my mom only responded to the sound of my voice. To help her stay engaged and connected to the present, I wrote a story about her courtship with my dad and read it to her."

"That's incredible. But how did you go from that to this—an internationally famous romance novelist?"

Gabriella took a steadying breath. "A nurse overheard me reading to her and suggested I publish it. One thing led to another: I met an agent, then a publisher, and… well, here we are. A significant portion of the proceeds from my book sales go toward dementia and Alzheimer's research."

"Wow, that's amazing," the DJ said, flipping through his notes. "And you're working on a new book now? The Cowboy's Kiss."

Gabriella nodded. "Yes that's correct."

"Tell us about it!"

"It's about a woman named Georgia who's tired of her life. She's a hopeless romantic, stuck in a safe but uninspiring relationship with a boyfriend who cheats on her. When she meets a stranger new to town, she decides to take a risk and asks him to have a wild affair with her."

The DJ let out a low whistle. "Now this is my kind of story."

Gabriella laughed lightly, the sound almost genuine. "What Georgia doesn't expect is that this stranger, Tucker, is looking for something more. He agrees to her proposition, but with one condition—five dates first. And no physical contact beyond kissing."

"No way." The DJ smirked. "What kind of guy would come up with something like that?"

Gabriella's smile faltered slightly, her heart twinging as memories surfaced. "Well, it's not as far-fetched as you might think. Tucker is based on someone real."

"Wait—this is a true story?"

"Yes," she admitted softly. "Georgia's story is my story."

"So, who's the guy?"

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her blazer. "That's something I'm keeping to myself," she teased, forcing a laugh.

The DJ chuckled. "Fair enough. Now, how's the tour treating you?"

Gabriella exhaled, putting on a brave face. She spoke enthusiastically about the places she'd visited and the ones still on her itinerary, painting a picture of excitement and adventure. But inside, she was unraveling. Every city, every stop—it all reminded her of Troy. What was he doing? Was he okay? Had he hired someone else to help with the garage?

When the interview ended, Gabriella found herself in the break room, absently picking at her salad. Blue sat at her feet, eagerly accepting the occasional crouton she handed him.

"You're incredible, you know that?" her publicist Michael said, sliding into the seat across from her.

"I don't feel incredible," she muttered. "I feel… empty."

Michael frowned. "It'll get better, champ. You're killing it out there. Pre-orders for The Cowboy's Kiss are through the roof."

She barely reacted, stirring her salad listlessly. "Michael, I don't even have a home."

"Then let's buy you one," he said, leaning forward. "Anywhere you want. We'll build it if we have to."

Gabriella arched a skeptical brow. "I don't even know how the book ends."

Michael sighed, exasperated. "Well, you have a week to figure it out. People are dying to read this one. Don't let them down."

"Or start issuing refunds?" she joked half-heartedly.

"Gabriella." His tone was sharp.

She sighed. "I know. I'm working on it. Everything's going to be fine."

But deep down, she wasn't so sure.

Troy

Troy hovered over a box sitting in his living room. Picking it up, he shook it. It was heavy and something large shifted from one side to the other inside. On the label, there was only his name and address, no sender name or information.

After a few more seconds of thought he picked at the corner of the packing tape and ripped it all off. He opened the flaps and frowned at the contents. Someone sent him a stack of paper?

Shifting he reached inside and pulled out a thick stack of paper bound by a rubber band. The cover sheet read:

The Cowboy's Kiss

Gabriella Montez

Formally known as Brie Carmichael

Was this?

It had to be?

This was the book she'd been working on. Was it done? He flipped through the first few pages. Why had she sent it to him? Coming over to the living room he sat down in his recliner where a stack of Brie Carmichael books were already piled up. He leaned the seat back propping his feet up and began to read.

He barely noticed when morning became afternoon. When his coffee went cold. His back got stiff from not moving. His stomach grumbled with hunger. But he read straight through, getting up once to go to the bathroom.

Trucker and Georgia were obviously he and Gabriella. Troy recognized the fictionalized versions of some of their conversations. He laughed at the banter, and he got hot at the sexy parts. Unlike all her other books where their story was more hidden and harder to find, this one was openly obvious. Jeff was obviously Jason, the ex-boyfriend who was greedy and vindictive.

Jeff only cared about the money on Georgia's farm and what she stood to gain from it if she would sell, whereas Tucker...

Tucker seemed to understand her. Sure this time she chose to lie and only tell Tucker that she was a farm worker and not the owner but valued his opinions and hard work. She respected him and in so many ways she cherished the friendship they had.

Then there was the deal, their deal, the one they made in the kitchen laid out in black and white print. Troy read over the pages each memory slamming through him with full force. Mostly, he remembered how great it was with Gabriella. How much he missed her.

He read until he got to the last chapter, which was blank-except for a handwritten note:

I don't know how the story ends. Do Trucker and Georgia get together? I want them to, but I'm not sure how to write the scene. Maybe you have ideas…

Troy sat on the edge of his chair, the weight of Gabriella's manuscript heavy in his lap. His fingers brushed the edges of the pages, worn slightly from where he'd gripped it while reading. The words were still tumbling around in his head—her words.

Raw. Vulnerable. Honest.

He tilted his head back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling, as if the cracks in the plaster might offer him some clarity. But there was no escaping it, the book had stripped him bare. Gabriella's voice, her thoughts, her feelings—they were all there, inked on paper, staring back at him like some unrelenting mirror.

She loved him. Respected him. Craved him.

Her passion for him, her pain from Jason, and the complicated mess of emotions she'd carried since everything between them had fallen apart… it was all there, bleeding from the pages like an open wound.

And now Troy was the one bleeding.

He'd had no idea. Not really. He thought he understood why she left, what she was feeling—hell, he thought he'd come to terms with it. But seeing it laid out like that, from her perspective, shook him. He'd spent so much time holding onto his own hurt, his own sense of betrayal, that he never stopped to consider how she'd felt.

But now he knew. And he couldn't un-know it.

He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees as he scrubbed a hand over his face. The book didn't have an ending.

And now she wanted his opinion.

His heart twisted painfully. The woman who had walked out of his life—the woman he still couldn't let go of—wanted him to help her figure out how the story ended. How their story ended.

How could he give her that?

Troy looked down at the manuscript again, his thumb brushing over her name on the cover page. Gabriella. Gabi. His Georgia.

In the story, Georgia had loved Tucker, too. But she'd also been scared. Scared of getting hurt again, scared of losing herself in someone else's shadow. It was the same fear Gabriella had felt. And yet, in those pages, she'd made it clear how much she wanted Tucker, how much she wanted him.

Troy let out a shaky breath and stood, pacing the length of his living room.

He glanced out the window, where the first hints of twilight were settling over the horizon. He felt an urgency, a restless pull in his chest, like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to pick up the phone, to tell her he'd read it, that he understood now, that he—

He what?

Loved her? Forgave her? Wanted her back?

All of that was true, wasn't it? But how did you say something like that to someone who had poured their soul into a book and handed it to you like a confession?

Troy stopped pacing and sank into the armchair by the window. His gaze fell to the manuscript again. Gabriella's words felt like a lifeline, like she was holding out her hand, waiting for him to take it.

He just didn't know if he could.

But the alternative—the thought of her finishing this story without him, writing an ending that didn't include him—was unbearable.

Troy's jaw tightened as he leaned back in the chair, gripping the manuscript like it was the only solid thing left in his world. He didn't know what to say to her yet, but he knew one thing for certain.

He wasn't going to let this story end without a fight.

Gabriella

Gabriella sipped her coffee as she looked out the window and down at the street. They were in New York and she was set to speak at the coffee shop down stairs about her book.

"My books rock," she whispered to herself. "I may not write the Great American Novel, but people enjoy my books."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Michael said, shutting the door to the small office behind him and placing a newspaper down on top of the small table.

Her brown eyes narrowed as she leaned back against the frame of the window and watched as Michael went about making himself a cup of coffee.

"I don't feel like a bestselling author."

"You don't look like any writer I've ever seen."

Gabriella frowned, "And how many romance writers have you seen?"

Michael huffed, "Danielle Steele lives in San Francisco. You don't look like her."

"Of course not. She's old enough to be my mother." Gabriella let out a sigh as she brought the coffee cup back up to her lips. "So what do I look like?" she asked before taking a sip.

"Like a love sick teenager, who's been moping around rather than basking in the glow of fame and fortune."

Gabriella considered his statement and then lowered her cup holding it with two hands. "I've lived through the death of both my parents, leaving the place I called home, and the death of my marriage, you'd think by now I'd be used to not having things," her laugh was void of humor as she looked down at the coffee in her cup.

"Love is not a thing," Michael said, taking a seat on a nearby couch next to Blue who was sleeping soundly, "You taught me that."

Blue's head came up and rested in his lap and Michael hesitated for a moment before placing a hand down and stoking the dog behind the ear. Earning a tail wag of appreciation.

"Do you ever think that I'm giving women a false sense of reality?"

Michael lowered his cup, "Sweetheart you write about romance and true love. It's real."

"Right." Gabriella sighed, "Love is the most important thing in the world. That's why I write romance, to give people hope and to remind them that it's possible to find happiness."

"So why the doubt princess?" Michael said, studying Gabriella closely, "Is this about Troy?"

"I don't know," Gabriella said quietly as she sat down next to Michael reaching out a hand to scratch Blue behind his ear as well, "Everything just keeps getting … complicated.."

"Let me ask you this," Michael said quietly, "Would you still be doing this even if there was no profit or fame?"

"Yes, you know I would."

Michael shrugged, "then you're doing what God intended."

Gabriella lifted her cup and took a long sip before bringing down her cup. "So I'm divorced and alone because God wants me to be?"

Michael let out a sigh, "You're not alone." Getting up he placed his cup on the table and dusted the dog hair from his pants with a little less irritation than normal. "You're on in five downstairs, pull it together. You write for entertainment. Just like Shakespeare."

"I hear they can train monkeys to produce Shakespeare," Gabriella smirked as Blue adjusted himself into her lap.

"Behave," Michael warned, "and leave the mutt upstairs."

An hour later Gabriella sat at her table signing what felt like book number seven billion and one for the day even though she knew it was only number twenty eight. She introduced herself, gave a brief speech about her last book and then a long question and answer session about her life as a writer.

"Can I get you anything?" The coffee shop owner asked.

"Water please," Gabriella said looking up at the next person in line with a smile. She watched as they came all the way up to the table and handed her a worn copy of one of her books.

"This book was amazing."

"What's your name sweetheart?" Gabriella said, offering her best smile.

"Hannah," the woman beamed with so much excitement, "I've read your book so many times, and it's helped me so much during my last breakup. It's like my go to whenever I'm sad."

"There is nothing better than a good book." Gabriella nodded as she signed the inside cover then smiled as she added a happy face. Channeling her best Sharpay she lifted her chin and handed back the book with a wink, "be with someone who ruins your lipstick not your mascara."

"I love you."

Gabriella let out a small laugh as watched the woman hug the book against her chest. Just as she looked down, a figure off to her right caught her eye. And that's when the next person in line came up to the table. They placed a familiar package in front of her. Her manuscript. And in that moment memories raced through her mind, causing sensory overload. She remembered every argument, every conversation, and every bit of incredible tension that hummed through every moment they'd spent together.

"Hi."

Troy

Troy caught the flicker in her brown eyes—shock and pleasure, brief but unmistakable—before she masked it with a cool, composed stare. The faint flush that colored her cheeks wasn't anger or embarrassment. It was desire.

Her hair was shorter now. It was brushing her shoulders, a tumble of soft light brown curls, the kind that begged a man to run his fingers through them. He missed her long hair, sure, but this new look? It had him hooked. It suited her, confident and striking, like she knew exactly who she was now.

She was electrifying. Her hair, her eyes, the way her hips swayed as she stood—it all hit him like a freight train. Everything about her screamed power, sensuality, and it did something to him, something primal. Especially now, with her words from the manuscript fresh in his mind. There were so many new things he wanted to do to her, so many ways he wanted to make her his.

Her perfume teased him, sweet and intoxicating, stirring memories and desires he'd tried to bury. His eyes locked on hers, catching the spark and flash that had always drawn him in.

He was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

"You're here," Gabriella said, her voice steady, but her posture tense.

"You cut your hair," he muttered. "So much for rule number one."

Her lips pulled slightly. He could tell if there were anywhere else, maybe? She might laugh. But they weren't and she was fighting it. So he decided to move on. "It wasn't too hard to find you. Few google searches really."

"Well," she shrugged. "You found me."

"You didn't wait for me. When I came back to the house you were gone."

"That was weeks ago," she shot back, crossing her arms. "In fact, you told me to get my stuff and go."

"Yeah, well we tend to say a lot of stuff when were screaming at each other. But we always talk about it." Troy replied, his tone sharper than he intended.

She stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "Don't blame this on me. I removed myself from a situation that was harmful to me."

"Harmful?" he echoed, frowning.

"The potential was definitely there."

Troy stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "You're the one who lied. You misrepresented yourself to me. I never really got to know the real you."

Her arms tightened across her chest, as if bracing herself. "You knew me."

"I know you now." His voice softened, but the intensity in his eyes didn't waver.

He couldn't take his eyes off her—not just because of the woman standing before him, but because of the woman he had discovered in her words. The one who didn't flinch from her truths. He had seen her heart on those pages, her thoughts unguarded and raw. Reading her work wasn't just reading a story—it was stepping into her world, her mind, her soul. It was an intimacy he hadn't expected, an insight into parts of her she never would have spoken aloud.

Through her writing, he saw the moments she never shared—the doubts, the loneliness, the strength she found when no one else was watching. She had poured herself into her words, laying bare her fears, her dreams, her regrets, and her love. It was there in the way she described the steady pull of longing, the ache of hope, and the quiet courage of risking it all. She hadn't written a romance—it was an echo of her heart, of their story.

He had always thought he knew her, her laugh, her fire, the sharp edge of her wit. But those words… they showed him the woman who fought battles she didn't speak of, who carried her wounds with grace, who loved with an intensity that scared her. She had let him into her innermost thoughts without even realizing it.

And now, standing here, she was guarded again, pulling her walls back up. But he couldn't unsee what her writing had shown him. He couldn't unknow her the way he did now.

"You're not just the woman I fell for, Gabriella," he murmured. "You're the woman I've come to understand… and I've never wanted anyone more."

She bit her lip, forcing herself to stay guarded. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I think I have an ending for your book," he said, nodding toward the manuscript on the table between them.

Her brow arched, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "Oh? Do you?"

When he didn't elaborate right away, she tilted her head, impatient. "Well?"

"You were always an impatient woman." Troy let out a sigh as he watched her with a smile, "I'm no Shakespeare. And my guess is that Romeo wasn't much of a Mechanic either right?"

"No, he wasn't," Gabriella laughed softly.

Troy also laughed as he removed a book from his inside pocket and held it up Heart Under the Hood. "Finally watched the movie and read the book. The book was better."

Gabriella

"Oh," was all she could say as she looked down at the book between them as he placed it on the table. On top of the manuscript. What was he up to? And why did he have to look so good in that brown leather jacket. He looked as though he stepped right off the cover of some GQ magazine in his fitted worn blue jeans and crisp white t-shirt. Her hormones literally melted to a puddle of gooey mush at her feet.

"I really wish I had the most perfect and beautiful words in the world to say to you because if I did l'd say them but," Troy shrugged as he looked back at the long line of women behind him. "I'd tell you how great you make me feel when I'm with you and how I love that little thing you do with your lip when you get excited."

Gabriella brought a hand to her stomach in an attempt to calm the fluttering butterflies that were kicking up what felt like the world's largest storm.

"I'd tell you how much I hate it when you correct my grammar, but hey," he paused with a smirk, "you're the writer so I guess it's only right."

"I'm really sorry about that," Gabriella winced.

"But most of all," Troy said, making sure he had her attention, "You make me a better person. My own person. And that's how I know that this," he said motioning to the table and the line of people watching them. "Means nothing, and you mean everything. But I'm just a mechanic, I don't have the right words for stuff like this."

Gabriella let out a long breath as she lifted a hand to brush some hair behind her ear. "Those were the perfect words," she said, choking back a sob.

"Damn it," he said, coming around the table and pulling her close to him, so they were chest to chest. "I didn't want to make you cry."

"I love you so much. And you're right we should have talked. I should have told you everything from the beginning," Gabriella said, her voice low and rough with emotion. "I hate that I didn't. I'll regret that for the rest of my life."

"Don't do that, don't regret us." He said, pulling back from her. "God, I've waited a long time for you to say you loved me. I'll never regret anything that led me here."

At that she huffed. "Not even sending me on that date with Donny."

Troy grunted. "Don't ruin the moment."

She let out a laugh. "Well, as far as endings go, this is sweet and all, but it's not exactly a homerun for my book."

"Because you haven't let me finish," he said with a small, exasperated grunt. He reached into his pocket, and when his hand emerged, it held a small black velvet box.

Her breath hitched as he looked at her, something tender and unguarded in his expression. "One day," he murmured, "you're going to let me surprise you on my own terms." And with that, he bent down on one knee.

The air between them stilled, heavy with anticipation.

"Gabriella Montez," he said, his voice unwavering. "The woman who walked into my life with the worst case of impatience and changed it forever… Will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife?"

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd that had quietly gathered around them. There were murmurs, swoons, and the unmistakable sound of camera shutters clicking. Gabriella's eyes widened as she glanced at the onlookers before locking her gaze back on Troy.

"How's that for an ending?" he smirked.

"That's not funny," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't joke with me like this. It's cruel."

"I'm not joking."

He opened the box, revealing a stunning ring—a silver band crowned with a teardrop diamond that caught the light like a secret promise.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of hesitation or humor. Instead, she found only sincerity. Only love. He held her gaze, letting her see everything he was offering: his heart, his future, his everything.

Hope bloomed in her chest, warm and overwhelming, overtaking the lingering regret. The words slipped out before she could stop them. "I want a baby."

Troy blinked in surprise, his eyes widening before a smile broke across his face. "So impatient."

"If you don't want him, I'll take him!" a random voice called out from the crowd.

Gabriella laughed, her cheeks flushed with joy as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She nodded furiously, her curls bouncing with the motion. "I want him. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you!"

Troy stood, slipping the ring onto her finger with a reverence that made her heart ache, before pulling her into his arms. He kissed her softly, tenderly at first, as if savoring the moment. But then his lips claimed hers again, this time deeper, more insistent, because he could. Because she was his.

She whimpered against him, her chest aching with the sweet, almost painful pleasure of it all. Her heart raced, a wild rhythm of joy and excitement, as she clung to the collar of his jacket. Butterflies swarmed her stomach, making her feel weightless, as though she might float away if not for his arms anchoring her to him.

The sound of enthusiastic clapping and cheers eventually broke through the haze surrounding them. They pulled apart, breathless and smiling, to find the crowd applauding their moment.

A pointed clearing of a throat cut through the noise, and Gabriella turned to find Michael, standing off to the side. He pointed at his wristwatch and tapped it vigorously, his expression a mix of amusement and impatience.

"Who's that?" Troy asked, leaning in to whisper.

"My agent," Gabriella said, frowning. "My very angry agent."

"How angry can we make him before he breaks that fancy watch of his?"

She smirked, shaking her head. "Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

"Definitely." He grinned, his hand finding hers as they turned back to face the man whose patience was clearly running out.

Epilogue

Gabriella took the glass of champagne Troy handed her and thanked him. They both looked around the hall that was decorated from floor to ceiling in pink and white roses.

There were also hues of pink light casted from above them as the overhead twinkle lights sparkled with a twilight atmosphere.

"This is a very pink wedding," Troy murmured, lifting his own glass to his lips.

"I'm not wearing underwear." Gabriella said quietly before sipping her champagne.

His glass, which had been on its way to his mouth, stopped abruptly, and his gaze fell to her strapless dress. "None?"

"Not one scrap of lace." Sipping her drink she looked around the hall, which Sharpay had transformed into a wedding wonderland, with white and pink ribbons and cream colored candles. Toward the back there was a small altar set up with chairs circling it. Sharpay had told Zeke she wanted to be surrounded by their family and friends as they exchanged their vows. "It's beautiful here, isn't it?" she said with a shrug, "Once you get past the pink."

"Yes." He leaned towards her, brushing her hair from her shoulder. "But I'd much rather discuss your underwear."

She shivered, feeling the tug of his desire. "There's nothing to discuss. Literally."

Troy's smile grew, "I'd like to see that for myself." His hand shifted discreetly down her back and over the curve of her bottom.

"Behave," she murmured as she lifted her glass.

Troy leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear, "Then you never should have told me about your underwear."

"Hey guys," the sound of Taylor's voice brought Troy's hand up to the safety of Gabriella's hip. However, he nestled her close into the nook of his side where she fit perfectly.

"Hey," Gabriella said warmly as she wrapped an arm around Troy's torso holding him close.

Chad and Troy nodded at each other as they glanced around. "Anyone else feeling like they need to do something to bring up the testosterone tonight?" Chad murmured as he lifted his glass.

"No kidding." Troy agreed, earning him a nudge in the ribs from Gabriella.

"Have you two set a date yet?" Taylor said with a smile.

"We want a summer wedding, an evening reception maybe?" Gabriella responded hesitantly looking up at Troy.

"It's whatever you want." Troy assured her. "But, no pink."

"Do you want to go find actual beer, like from a bottle?" Chad interjected.

"God yes," Troy said, putting his champagne glass on a nearby tray from a passing waiter. "I'll be back," Troy placed a quick kiss on Gabriella's temple before taking off after Chad.

Gabriella rolled her eyes as let out a sigh and watched his retreating form. Now, she was living back home with Troy, her heart was fuller than it had ever been. Her latest book, The Cowboy's Kiss, had been released a few weeks ago, and to her surprise and delight, it was a massive hit. Fans had devoured every page, picking apart every line, some even guessing that it was more than just fiction.

But the best part? There was a movie option on the table. Gabriella still couldn't believe it. She'd been fielding calls with her agent almost daily, ironing out details and bouncing ideas, her excitement bubbling over into her conversations with Troy. He'd listened patiently, his lips curling into that soft, knowing smile she loved. And though he wasn't a man who liked to sit still for long, he'd spent hours curled up next to her on the couch, brainstorming and celebrating, reminding her just how much he believed in her.

Still, as thrilling as her career was, it wasn't what filled her days with joy. That honor belonged to the man she now called home.

Taylor let out a laugh as she crossed her arms and came to stand beside her friend. They accepted a mini quiche from a passing waiter.

"Sharpay really outdid herself," Gabriella said before tasting the treat.

"She lives for stuff like this. Personally, l would have eloped to Vegas and had someone in an Elvis suit marry me."

"Well," Gabriella said looking at the twinkle lights above, "there is something lovely and magical about being married in front of your family and friends."

"Says the romance writer." Taylor grinned and poked her. "I can only imagine the insanity yours is going to be."

"Actually," Gabriella smiled warmly as she thought about her own wedding ideas. "I want a small wedding, mason jars full of sunflowers on picnic tables with tubs of chicken and mashed potatoes served family style."

Taylor let out a groan, "I so need to get married, you two are having all the fun without me."

Gabriella let out a small laugh, "I don't know about that," Gabriella said, spotting Troy and Chad who were currently talking to Zeke. "You and Chad seem more than happy. You guys found each other so soon and fell in love so quickly."

"Yes, but I want a wedding, and flowers and parties and people staring at me with envy."

"Oh," Gabriella said, placing her hand on her chest in disbelief. "Is that all? Well then true love be damned."

Taylor nudged her, "You know what I mean."

"I do."

Just then Sharpay came over to them, her blond hair in all its curled glory and her wedding dress swaying with each step.

"Y'all this thing is as hot as a billy goat in a pepper patch."

Gabriella laughed quietly to herself, "You look beautiful."

"Really," Sharpay smiled, "Y'all really can't tell I'm five months pregnant?"

Taylor and Gabriella looked at the mini swell of Sharpay's belly then at each other before turning back towards her. "No, not at all." They lied in unison.

Gabriella felt a warm hand on the small of her back and looked to find Troy smiling down at her, "Ladies," he greeted.

"Hey Troy," Sharpay said, coming over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks again for being Zeke's best man. He doesn't really know many people in town. Opening a new business and all he's just as busy as a funeral home fan in July."

"Right." Troy raised a brow as he looked over at Taylor then at Gabriella, "Would you ladies mind if I stole my fiancé away? There's a matter of romantic importance and her opinion's needed."

"Go on," Sharpay gushed, "I was just gonna ask if Taylor could help me go pee."

"Oh," Taylor jerked into action, leading Sharpay off towards a nearby exit leaving Troy and Gabriella alone.

"Thank God, I had to take her last time." Gabriella said, turning towards Troy. "Two words. Mesh Netting."

"Seriously?" he asked as he led her from the main room up the large staircase.

"She's a sweetheart really but when we get married I don't want to be five months pregnant in a dress that can host the Russian circus." Gabriella murmured as she leaned in close to him. Once they were at the top of the stairs she looked around. "Where are we going? There's not much going on up here."

"Exactly." He guided her into a secluded alcove hidden by a curtain and turned her into his arms.

"Is this the romantic emergency?" she asked, putting her arms around his neck.

"I'm dying," he whispered, kissing her lovely at the nook of her neck.

She arched her head back. "Do you need mouth to mouth?"

"Hell yeah." He took her lips, as if he'd been starving her for. They kissed for a while. Before She pulled away, leaning into him. She rested her head against his shoulder, breathing him in. He smelled like fresh air and wood, a combination that had quickly become her favorite scent.

Everything about this moment—about this life—felt right. The chaos of the past, the pain of misunderstandings and missed chances, felt like a distant memory now. They had weathered the storm, and here they were, standing side by side, building something beautiful.

As they stood there, the faint hum of music played from down below and he held her close while they rocked together.

"You know," Gabriella said softly, her fingers brushing against Troy's as they danced, "I used to think this happiness was something that only existed in stories. Something I could write about but never actually feel for myself."

"And now?" he asked, his voice low as he turned to look at her.

"Now, I know it's real," she said, meeting his gaze. "It's you. It's this. It's us."

Troy didn't say anything for a moment, just lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, his lips lingering. Then, with a smirk, he said, "I'll take credit for that, but don't forget—you wrote your own happy ending, Gabriella."

She laughed, her cheeks warming as she reached up to kiss him, her heart swelling with a love so deep it felt as though it might burst. This was her life now, and for the first time in forever, she knew—without a doubt—that it was everything she'd ever dreamed of.

The end.