I paused mid-motion, then let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.That day on Fifth Avenue, I'd just walked across the street to grab a coffee—ten minutes, tops. By the time I got back to where we'd been, they were gone.So while I was stumbling around like a headless chicken, dodging God knows what kind of deadly trouble, they were busy picking out haute couture with Seraphina.No wonder none of my calls got answered.Gabriel's thumb froze over the screen. It hit him too—I could see it in the flicker of rare awkwardness crossing his face."Oh... I got it wrong. You weren't there."He cleared his throat."I was gonna call you, but that place only sells gowns. You're always mixed up in gang stuff and never wear dresses, so I figured it wasn't worth dragging you in."I said nothing. Just stared at him.He reached over, a little stiffly, to ruffle my hair—I turned my head and let his hand hit empty air."Mad?" He forced a smile, his tone half-soothing, half-dismissive. "I'll take you to
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