I FOUND LOVE IN CALIFORNIA 3: Hands Off

I froze, unable to look away, feeling the heat of his body pressing impossibly close. His lips hovered near mine, then touched softly, and I felt his hands trail from my thighs upward, slow and warm. My shirt shifted as his touch lingered, intense and intimate.

I pushed him away, gently, hands trembling slightly as I turned my face, eyes avoiding his. “Please, excuse me," I said softly, carefully trying to pull my hand from his grip.

“I…” he began, the word catching in his throat, his gaze fixed on mine. Slowly, he stepped back, letting the door shift slightly as his fingers brushed it for a moment before releasing my hand. He walked out slowly, and when the door closed behind him, my hand still tingled from his touch, unable to look away from the door.

******

◈GABRIEL'S MANSION◈

I walked into the house and saw Justin sitting in the living room, one leg crossed over the other, his phone loose in his hand. I kept walking toward the hallway, my bag shifting on my shoulder.

“Hey, bro,” Justin called from the living room as I moved toward the hallway, his voice sharp enough to pull my attention back. He stood up and walked toward me, closing the distance, and when he reached me he wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a quick hug.

I stayed still, didn’t return the hug, and he pulled back after a second, his smile still there while his eyes searched mine.

“Seriously?” he said, voice light but edged. “You come in and can’t even say hello?”

I looked at him, my face calm, my expression flat. “Hello,” I said.

He laughed short and looked away, the sound more surprised than amused, then he looked back at me, his smile fading. “What’s your problem, bro?” he asked, his tone softer but still asking.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag. “We’ll talk later,” I said, my voice low, my body already angled toward the hallway as footsteps came from the kitchen and my mom appeared, towel in her hands, her eyes moving between us.

“Alex, you’re home,” she said, her tone warm but questioning. “You didn’t call, what made you stay too late.”

“Training, mom,” I replied, adjusting the bag on my shoulder, my gaze fixed ahead.

Justin leaned forward slightly, his half smile trying to keep things light. “He just ignored me,” he said, voice easy. “Walked right past like I wasn’t here.”

My mom looked at me, her brows knitting. “Alex,” she said, “that’s your cousin.”

I met her eyes without flinching. “I greeted him,” I said.

Justin gave a quiet laugh and rubbed the back of his neck, his posture shifting as if he wanted to push the moment away. “Brother, you’re acting like I did something.”

“Not now, Harry,” I said, my tone controlled, my body already moving toward the hallway.

She folded the towel and set it aside, her voice firm. “If there’s an issue, you talk about it.”

I inhaled slowly, the breath steady and calm. “Later, Mom.”

Justin watched me, his posture no longer relaxed, his eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to read me. “Did I?” he asked, voice lower. “Did I do something?”

I looked at him fully, holding his gaze without blinking, my jaw tight, my expression refusing to soften. “We’ll talk,” I said. “Just not here.”

I turned and walked toward the stairs, Justin glancing at my mother and then back at me, blinking once before following behind, his steps close but careful, while my mother remained where she was, watching us go without a word.

“Seriously?” Justin said as he stepped into my room, mock hurt creeping into his voice as his eyes followed me while I slipped my bag off my shoulder. “You walk in and that’s it?”

“Alex…” he said, stepping forward, grabbing my hand and turning me around, our eyes locked, searching each other as silence filled the room.

“What’s up?” Justin continued, confusion laced across his face and a strain in his voice. “Why the attitude?”

I stayed still, my face calm, my eyes steady, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.

He took a step closer, his voice softening, but the hurt in it made the air heavy. “I missed you so much,” he said. “It’s been two years since we last saw each other. I’ve been waiting for this day, for this moment. And now that it’s here, the one guy I’ve been longing to see again is treating me like I’m nothing, like broken glass.”

He leaned in as if he needed the words to land on me. “You told me you wouldn’t let me touch you until you were twenty,” he said, barely more than a whisper. “You’re twenty-one now.”

His hand slid behind me, fingers trailing across my waist until they found my butt cheek. He cupped it, just enough to pull me slightly closer, to separate one cheek from the other. The touch was possessive, demanding, and it made my breath catch.