Title: With My Life
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, names, places, anything from High School Musical or Disney. This story is copyright to the owner and may not be used without permission. I in no way affiliated with any of the High School Musical Cast, Disney, Kenny Ortega or Peter Barsocchini. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters, places, ect. from the government or the CIA are not official. I don't know anything more about the CIA or Government than what the media protrays it to be.
Author's Note: I may be committing suicide by attempting to post two stories at one, but I want to try this. I came up with this plot line a long time ago and wrote a bit but in Zanessa, but it just came to me that I wanted to write the whole thing. I'm a sucker for action movies, so I thought I would try one for myself. This story isn't going to be updated as often, since Lightning Only Strikes Once is going to be my first priority. I might update this once a week, maybe less. It's just something fun that I wanted to try. It's not going to be long either, probably less than 15 chapters. Just something fun I wanted to write. Also, I have absolutely no professional background with government CIA/FBI/Secret Service programs, so if I get things wrong, just know that I'm sorry right up front. I'm super nervous about this story because it will be the first that's not based in a high school setting.
Anyways, thanks for giving it a chance and for reading as always. If you like it, let me know by pressing that pretty little button at the bottom of the screen that says "review". And even if you don't like it, press it and rant about how much you hope I never write again. I want honest opinions.
With that thought in mind, I'm crossing my fingers and hoping you enjoy With My Life!
The world was split into three types of people. Every single person on this planet fell into one of the three categories. Of course, some would switch over, cross boarders, but ultimately, there were only three types that one could be:
There were the citizens. The ordinary people who went on with their ordinary lives and didn't look beyond their own front doors. They woke up each morning, took showers, ate, watched TV, and went back to bed at night. They were the vast majority of the population who were, so to say, normal. The little old lady who lived across the street. The stockbroker who brought in piles and piles of money and dumped it all into expensive Corvettes and oversized swimming pools. They were generally oblivious. These were the people who needed to be protected from the scumbags of the world.
Which led to the second category. The scumbags. The ones who enjoyed watching other people's pain. These were the hunters. The predators. The ones that filled dirty prison cells where they belonged. Drug dealers, rapists, murders, and serial killers. They were the people that made stomachs turn in disgust. Hitler, the KKK, even Ursula, the wicked sea witch in The Little Mermaid, would fall under this title. Whatever you wanted to call them. Unfortunately, they were out there. As long as there would be humans, there would be corruption.
And then there was the final group. The select few who protected the population from the assholes of the world. They were the ones that put themselves in font of the unsuspecting dog lover across the street, or the mother of three kids behind the white picket fence. The ones that stopped the terrorist from slicing the throats of the innocent hostages. They were the ones who didn't do it for the glory; they did it to save lives.
They were the people like Troy Bolton.
"Dude, Donovan is calling a meeting."
A deep male voice interrupted the pounding sound of Lil Wayne's rap echoing through the snow white colored earphones. The twenty year-old standing in front of the hypersonic spped treadmill with his chocolate dark skin and obnoxiously black afro looking up eagerly attempted to gain the attention of the runner who was doing his best to ignore his friend. In all attempts to avoid the inevitable, the athlete turned his head to the side and turned up the pulsating music on his shiny iPod to drown out the sound.
"Bolton, man…" The dark skinned male leapt back into the view of the exhausted twenty year-old who swiveled his head away from him once again and pumped his leg faster. It was like he was treating his friend like an annoying four-year old. If he ignored it, it would just go away. "Come on, stop being an asshole!"
Rule number one, never EVER interrupt Troy when he was working out. Or there would be hell to pay.
Finally giving up, Troy slammed his strong fist down onto the bright scarlet "stop" button and angrily slashed his ear bud out of his drum. "What?" His normally velvet voice hissed as he hopped down from the machine, sweat raining down the side of his golden face and irritated ice piercing through his sparkling blue eyes.
"You heard me the first time, Donovan wants us when you've showered. Cuz you smell like a pig's shit." Troy's best friend, Chad Danforth, responded with an amused smirk over his pale and long face. His black eyes danced with delight as he patted Troy on the bare back, causing more sticky sweat to drip down his chiseled pectorals and six pack abs.
"Ugh… that kills any chances of finishing." He muttered before running a hand through his normally sandy brown hair that turned a coal shade with matted down sweat. He snatched a fluffy towel from above the drop and fell into step with the strong co-worker at his side. Well, at least he got something in, even if it was for about half of how long he wanted to go.
It was like the dream job for him, really. Troy got paid to be physically active. When not on duty, he basically lived at the gym, and his salary was better than most his age. He had seen more countries than any middle class American. Some may say it was a dream career.
Oh yeah, he also had to protect citizens from blowing up on a regular basis. That part was in the job description as well.
Troy Alexander Bolton graduated from a high school in San Diego with a 4.13 grade point average. He had scholarship opportunities from UCLA and USC. He could have taken them in a heartbeat. Guidance councilors attempted to steer him in the direction of marketing, or becoming a huge investment broker. Anything that would bring in tons and tons of money. But Troy had his heart set on protecting lives. So he was set to join the army, but once they found him in boot camp after a half-year of training, he was offered to work with NPJA, a private agency that was a smaller branch of the CIA located in the heart of steamy Los Angeles.
Basically, to sum it up, Troy put the bad guys in the rightful hands of the government. Or six feet under the ground with worms crawling out of their skulls. Which ever the government told him to do.
Guarding lives. That's what it was all about.
After Chad left him to the shower, Troy stripped off his drenched, stinky clothes and jumped into the chilled water, hurrying while doing his best to get every inch of his stench of skin. After squeaky cleaned, he threw on a pair of his dark jeans and button up gray cotton shirt over a white wife beater. The other perk about his job, he didn't half to dress up around the office. None of the agents did. The secretaries and tech crew glared jealously at them, for they had to wear their uncomfortable business suits. Hey, it was only fair. They weren't the ones risking their asses on a daily basis.
Troy rolled up his sleeves half way before glancing in the slightly steamy mirror, gripping deodorant and hair gel so he was able to spike his bangs, since really didn't look as professional as he usually wore his auburn hair over his matching eyebrows. The azure crystals that were his eyes were penetrating through the glass.
He finished making himself presentable before throwing everything into the locker labeled, 14, and then walked out the doors before meeting up with Chad again and heading up the elevator towards the third floor. "Baylor said it was something to do with Haiatt."
Troy's mind reeled back into remembering the last meeting they had in their boss's open office, and was left disappointed when he found he wasn't going to be on the Haiatt mission. He was the best of his unit, yet Troy still didn't have the years behind him. Donavon basically told Troy he was the best, but the experience was lacked. It sometimes got to him, but he did his best not to worry too much about it. His time would come. Well, if he lived that long.
"Why? They got all the guys. They don't need us." Troy shoved his calloused hands into the depths of his jean pockets.
They passed other NPJA agents on the long walk to the stairs. Their headquarters was in the basement of the enterprise building that towered sixteen stories high. Just looking at the scene, one would think that it was a stock brokerage or something of that nature. But beneath the flooring lie a security system so tight it was just a few steps below the Pentagon. It had to be.
"I dunno… still shocked that they didn't pick you." Chad slowly eyed Troy, but he could feel his large knuckles ball. That was like scratching open a scab, bringing up the Haiatt mission.
"We're not talking about this." Troy warned dangerously before continuing a silent walk to the open office down the light and airy hallway. No one would have been able to tell it was below the ground if they had not known.
It was huge. A giant mahogany desk was stationed in front of a large black chair where a tan forty something year old sat behind. There was a giant portrait of the American flag behind him. About ten red cushioned chairs surrounded the perimeter of the ivory painted walls. Everything about the room was so patriotic, which was insanely fitting for the type of work they were in.
The man behind the chair was no doubt a hard blooded American. With jet black hair that resembled the night sky and hard, yet warm light brown orbs that seemed to see through walls. Donavon saw everything, heard everything before it even happened. Rumor was that he had a sixth sense. Maybe he did. One thing was for certain; you did NOT get on his bad side. That was a one was ticket to hell if you did.
Unfortunately for the malicious criminals in the world, every single one of them were on his bad side. Suckers.
"Bolton, Danforth. Nice of you guys to show." Donavon greeted sarcastically and nodded curtly at the two who just walked in the room. Everyone knew he was insanely grateful to have Troy on his team. It had been he who picked out at boot camp and informed the officers that's who he wanted. He was like the father Troy lost.
"Sorry sir. Someone wanted to look pretty." Chad snickered at Troy's piercing glare.
He was an orphan. His mother and father died in a horrific car crash that sent their SUV over the edge of an overpass when he was twelve years old. It left him heartbroken and in pieces, but it was at that moment he realized he wanted to rescue as many lives as he could the rest of his life. His life that was most likely going to end before he was twenty-three, unless he turned into a lucky son of a bitch like the man sitting behind the desk. There was never an absolute certainty he would go back to his apartment alive every night. The risk of getting murdered on duty was high.
Troy got an adrenalin rush from that risk.
"So… I'm sure a lot of you want to know why you're here." Donavon clapped his oversized hands together, making Troy roll his ceruleans at how dramatic he always made everything. If it was up to him, they'd be given the mission and then be on their way. Then again, maybe that was why he wasn't on the Haiatt.
"Yes sir!" An overly enthusiastic transfer from the CIA announced before it seemed every single guy, which were three other agents beside himself and ex CIA boy, in the room was glaring at him and thinking the exact same thing. Damn suck up.
Troy chuckled before slouching in his seat slightly. It wasn't that he didn't want to be there; it was just that he was still agitated about the Haiatt mission. He had been in the pissy mood ever since they found out two days ago. "Err… right," their boss shook his head and continued. "It's about the Haiatt mission."
His attractive head rose immediately. The adrenaline was already pumping vigorously through his veins.
Haiatt mission. It was simple, really. There would be protecting a party. A soirée at the Haiatt Hall. But not just any party. The Montez's. Troy's heart rapidly jumpstarted into a beating fury when he thought of the name. The simple last name that seemed to have the world riding on their shoulders. In an essence, they did.
The Montezs weren't a normal everyday type of family. They fell under Troy's 'needed to be protected' category. Especially them. Jose Montez huge. Probably worth more money than Troy had ever seen in his life. He was the head of Montez Intelligence, or MI for short. Science was the name of that game. Jose had built the business from scratch, but he sold protective defense technology to the US government, more advanced than anyone could ever dream of. Though you'd think he was a complete asshole with pools of cash, he was actually one of the friendliest guys Troy had ever had the pleasure of meeting. His company didn't come up with weapons, just protection. He was the guy with the electronics that could see through walls or tiny cameras that could fit into one's eyelash.
Needless to say, he was on the wanted list of the terrorists or psycho on the globe. Which was were NPJA stepped in to shield his family. Not bodyguards, not secret service. Since Troy had joined about two years ago, he had assisted in three assassinations. Jose Montez didn't just want some regular secret service. Troy felt warm goose bumps run down his spine at the thought of the family.
Haiatt was holding the fundraiser to help the homeless in the United States. In Troy's eyes, when Jose and his wife attended, they would be sitting ducks for the attack they had a lead on. NPJA had to be the barriers. Well, the ones that were going at least.
"We got a lead on Varison's threat," Donavon explained in his booming voice while he stood up from his huge desk. "A phone call to someone back in Germany. It was short, brief, but we got enough information to know that something's happening, and soon for that matter," his brown eyes scanned the absorbing eyes, his own holding on Troy's before continuing.
Burchnam Varison was no doubt the most dangerous criminal ever to step foot on earth. His empire of the drug world was enough to raise his power to unbelievable levels. Then the murders began. They were sick and bone chilling murders; ones that made Troy's skin crawl with disgust. He was known now for making trades of yellow cake to terrorists in the Middle East. But they could never find him. He was like a ghost, maybe he was. Whatever it is, he was the most wanted man ever.
There wasn't a lot that upset him, really. Troy was a rock, stone. Emotion was out of the question. He had to be in his profession, or grief would tear him apart from the inside. But this guy? Yeah, he hated him.
"We're gonna need all our best guys out there. So you four…" His stubby finger pointed to everyone but the twenty year old with the sparkling blue eyes and brown hair. "Are gonna hold the perimeter with Evanston. No one goes in we don't know, got it?" The other three nodded, excitement seeping out of their pores at the action. There was only one problem.
For the second time this week, Troy just got screwed over. He frowned in anger as his chilling eyes shot rounds of ice towards Donavon. What the hell was he thinking? Troy was their best guy! And they were giving these dumb asses the job he should get? Furious didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling. "Uhh, what about Bolton?"
It was Chad who spoke, though there was triumph in his excited face. Troy usually would have felt happy for him, but he couldn't get beyond the fact that he just got fucked out of one of the best missions of his life. This sucked ass.
But then Donavon turned to his, a proud smirk on his oversized lips. It was at that moment that Troy realized he had a better job than the rest. "He's got a different assignment. I got a call from Montez himself today. It sounds like they're gonna need one more person to watch."
Immediately, Troy's heart went into turbo speed as every cell in his body turned numb. His usually tan face paled in anticipation as his hands began to sweat at the thought. But he had to play it cool, keep himself calm for the next five minutes if it was true, or everything would be blown out of the water and he'd be assigned to something else. And he could not let that happen. "Who?" His voice was an octave higher than it should have been.
Donavon leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms, showing no sign of noticing Troy's excitement. "Apparently, his daughter is now attending. And he wanted the best for her. You're to keep her under your eyes, got it?"
Gabriella Montez, the gorgeous nineteen years old who was the sparkle of her father's eyes. She was the image most American girls wanted to be. She was smart, funny, sweet and a little bit shy. When she walked in the room, the lights seemed to turn onto her and cause her gorgeous olive skin to radiate the room. She was the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the world.
She also happened to be the one girl who Troy had secretly fallen madly in love with the moment he laid eyes on her.
This was suddenly the best mission. Ever.
"Hurry, which one do you like better?"
The nineteen year old was frantic, more than frantic, she was panicking. Pure terror seeped through her blood stream as she ran like a lunatic through her enormous walk in closet. Shoes, shirts, dresses, pants. The hundred pair of clothes didn't seem to be good enough for her. Her tiny hand scanned each item, deciding that it was too baggy, too tight, or just made her look disgusting. What was the point of being wealthy if you didn't even like anything you owned?
"Um…" the strong brown skinned friend sitting cross legged in a pale blue maid's uniform on the other girl's queen sized beige comforter furrowed her eyebrows before looking at the magenta halter and white cardigan or the turquoise tunic and black leggings the brunette in the threshold of the closet was holding up. "Either one looks fantastic, but the green is too dressy."
Gabriella Montez immediately threw the other outfit back into the closet forgotten before pulse began to quicken rapidly. She tossed her straight light chocolate waves that reached half way down her tiny back over her shoulder and ripped off the peach t-shirt she was wearing. "Should I put my hair up too?" She asked in her honey sweet voice before struggling to shove her foot into the light washed denim jeans. Her dark mocha colored orbs lifted to view her friend giggling at her efforts and walking over to aid her in dressing herself.
"You look amazing," The bobbed cut haired girl, Taylor McKessie, complimented in her smooth voice that seemed to soothe Gabriella's nerves the tiniest bit. "You always do."
It was stupid, really. He would only be coming over for a half hour and Gabriella felt as though he was taking her to the prom. When her father announced this morning that a few of the NPJA agents were coming to the house to go over some things, she immediately felt her stroke begin. Every time she thought of him, her heart just surrendered its beats and held up a white flag. Now she was on a rampage to look half way decent for the guy who stole her heart away without even knowing it.
"Are you sure? You don't think it's too casual?" she pressed with concern as she spun around in her huge floor length mirror. Taylor laughed at her friend and shook her head.
The African American was hired to the Montez's estate when she was sixteen years old, putting Gabriella at age fifteen. Ever since then, she had been more like an older sister to her than an actual employee. Her parents housed her, since God only knew where her real parents were. And since Gabriella had been home schooled ever since she was fourteen, she made a great companion for the heiress. Her best friend actually.
"You look great," Taylor hugged Gabriella's slightly boney shoulders before staring into the mirror along with her. "He's not gonna know what hit him."
Gabriella sighed, looking over every inch of her exposed olive skin and prayed Taylor was right before a knock on the door caused her stomach to somersault. "Gabriella? Sweetie…" the door opened to a tall and slender woman in a heather gray business suit that revealed her mile long legs. She was the twin of her daughter staring blankly at the doorframe, except for the fact that the mother had natural midnight black waves, unlike her daughter's changed highlighted milk chocolate straight hair. "They're here, and your father wants you down…" Maria Montez informed with a knowing grin on her smooth face.
Immediately, every nerve ending in her body seemed to be in a spasm. If she hadn't had Taylor's strong body to hold, she might have crashed to the ground in faint. He was here, and she still hated how she looked. But there wasn't anything she could do about it now. So, taking in a huge breath of air, Gabriella gazed into her reflection one last time before turning to Taylor. "Knock him on his ass." She mumbled before Gabriella followed her mother out the door.
They walked through the clay colored hallway of the mansion, passing the expensive paintings along the way. Jose loved art, and collected it with the millions he made. Gabriella loved it just the same. She had always been that way since she was a little girl and their family was on the rise of wealth. Needless to say, Gabriella was not an average spoiled heiress.
She had never attended an actual high school, yet she had been to so many places she had made friends with more mature people older than her own age. Her mother had always said she was too old for her body, since she was responsible and caring. She wasn't a selfish teenager growing up. Her parents wouldn't have allowed her to be. And dating? Guys were dropping at her feet left and right. She was polite, and funny. Plus she was worthy in looks of a model and was insanely wealthy. It seemed like every single male on the planet wanted to date her.
Well, that was every male except the one that had just come into view as she gazed down the castle like staircase.
She almost fell to her knees when she gazed upon him His sneakers matched perfectly with his khaki pants that hung slightly lower on his frame so she could see a peak of his midnight colored boxers. But that wasn't a problem, for the jacket that covered his chiseled torso was the same color and caused his bronze skin to radiate off the lighting. His face was hard, the way she always saw it was when he was on duty. Dark aviators covered what she knew were two incredible cyan orbs. His light chestnut hair was spiked up and out of his face, though Gabriella liked it better when it fell over his eyes in the rebellious way.
Inhale, exhale. Breathing was difficult in his presence.
There were three others beside him all dressed in the same clothing minus the sunglasses, one she recognized as Ray Donavon. Jose, dressed in his usual business clothes that made his pale skin and black hair look even whiter, reached out to shake each of their hands. Gabriella felt a surge of desire to touch the tan skin as her father greeted her prince charming into their large home.
Maria gave Gabriella an encouraging push, causing her to remember she needed to move her legs to walk down the steps. Her legs to the equivalent as jello, Gabriella carefully glided down the stairs, feeling with every step she took closer to him, her skin seemed to heat more. "Gabriella! Come here!"
At the exact moment as her father said her name, Troy's head immediately jerked to the side to knock the oxygen out of her lungs. His calloused hand reached up and removed his aviators, Gabriella feeling as though the force from his stunning cobalt eyes was enough to knock her into the wall. Their eyes met in a powerful stare as she surprisingly made it to the bottom of the steps without falling on her butt. "Mrs. Montez… Miss Montez… good to see you again." Donavon greeted while holding out his hand politely.
Gabriella couldn't take her eyes off Troy, though he didn't look away from her either. A coy smile crept onto her lips at the same time he responded by flashing her a sexy crooked smirk. It was enough to cause whatever was left in her legs to almost give out again "Mr. Donavon. Won't you come in?" Maria politely offered.
They walked into the granite and wood covered open kitchen with huge bay windows that led out to the gigantic swimming pool outside. Living in Beverly Hills, the mansion was nothing out of the ordinary. Probably downsized since Jose wasn't into material wealth. But still, the two other agents who have never been in the Montez manner were in utter awe. "We've got just about everything set. Everything should run smoothly on Saturday."
Gabriella stole a glance with Troy again, feeling her face blush crimson. He was going to be there, whether he was outside, or just in the room in general. He was going to be at the same party that she was. Okay, so maybe he'd be working, but who cares? A girl can dream. "Excellent. Did you find anyone for Madidie yet?"
Gabriella did her best not to roll her eyes. Usually when she was stuck with a bodyguard, it was either some old and boring forty year-old who liked to talk about 'what he did when he was her age' or some three hundred body builder that didn't talk at all. Her father always wanted the best when it came to his daughter's life. "Actually… I know your requests…" Gabriella knew that meant his request to bring the biggest or more experienced guy to do the job. "But we gave the job to Bolton."
Brown met blue once again. Gabriella's olive skin seemed to burst with a beam of sunshine as the inevitable smile radiated off her smooth face. She felt her breath vacuumed from her lungs for the second time since they had walked into the house.
Troy, her guard. Hers for the entire night. This event suddenly turned into the best ever.
"Really? Mr. Bolton?" Jose eyed the still considered rookie skeptically.
"Sir… you can trust your daughter with me." The sparkling eyes shot to her father, persuasion clearly evident. Gabriella couldn't help but think that one look into those ocean waves and anyone would listen to what he said. She knew she would.
The sincerity in his velvet tone was enough to calm any hesitation in Jose. Her father nodded, before Gabriella felt herself sigh with a sense of relief. She wouldn't be stuck with some old or mute guy. She'd be with her dream guy. This would be perfect. Well, for her at least. It was hard to read Troy's expression. He was always one who kept his heart off his sleeve, but she assumed it came with the job. "Well then, I guess that's settled. What about the perimeter?"
They discussed security measures that were way over Gabriella's brunette head. Though she did catch the brief statement that there was rumor of a plot from Varison, but they had it under control. Most of the time, Gabriella found herself staring at Troy's tense figure or the floor, receiving glances from him every once in awhile before he smirked and turned away as though he was paying attention to the other men. After what seemed like ages, Troy excused himself, asking politely for directions to the bathroom from concentrated Maria.
Now was her chance to get a few minutes alone with him,
Gabriella jumped up almost thirty seconds after Troy dismissed himself, no one but her mother paying attention. She crossed the crowded room, into the brown tone of the hallway and did everything she could to prepare this to seem as though it was an "accident" that he'd run into her. Her heart was thumping loudly beneath her rattling ribs, until she felt a stone chest bump square into her petite frame. "Shit… what the…" Troy's smooth voice faltered as he looked down into the brown eager eyes and his surprised face immediately softened. "Miss Montez. Shi… I mean… I'm sorry I didn't see you."
She loved the way his husky voice sounded when he spoke. Everything about him was so unbelievably sexy it was hard to handle. Like the way his eyes were fixed onto her face as though there was nothing else in the world to look at. Even though she had known him for about a year, it was still hard to believe that someone like him existed.
"I'm sorry… it was my fault," Yeah it was, she planned it. But was she ever going to confess that? Of course not. Gabriella's soft face blushed in ruby once again from just being in his presence. "So… how are you?"
Troy chuckled nervously at her attempt at small talk. Gabriella bit the bottom of her puffy lip before watching his shoulder collide with the clay wall and him shrug. "Hangin' in there. What about you?" he asked with pure curiosity, not as some guys would just to get a clear shot into her pants. It was another thing she loved about Troy; he treated her like a human being, a friend. Not just some quick and hot screw like everyone else. "Besides pissed that you have to spend an entire night with me."
His joke caused her to stare at the floor. What if I want to? "I think I can manage." She giggled her honey sweet laugh before feeling herself take a shy step forward.
Their eyes locked again before she felt some magnetic connection tingle beneath her baby soft skin. It was like he was calling to her. So desperately did she want to wrap her meager arms around his stiff neck and feel his large muscles contract, as they would tense over her small body. A heated gaze penetrated to each other, before a sudden bemused voice broke the stare. "Bolton, dude did you fall in... oh damn… Miss Montez!"
Troy closed his eyes painfully until he turned his gorgeous head to view one of the other agents strutting towards them. Gabriella immediately recognized the afro as Chad Danforth. "Hey Chad." She greeted with a disappointed frown that he interrupted their precious moment together. Damn him.
"Donovan thinks you got shot or something," Chad informed him before smirking deviously at his best friend. Troy's blue eyes turned into storms as he shot daggers towards him. "So you'd better get back before he kicks your ass."
"Be there in a sec, alright?" Troy practically hissed before turning back to Gabriella, strategically moving his strong forearm up on the wall so he was leaning closer to her. Neither noticed Chad stalking away snickering. They only had eyes for each other. She got a whiff of his intoxicating cologne before he gently grinned at her. "I guess I better go."
"Yeah… but I'll just see you Saturday then?" Her mouse loud voice almost questioned with excitement, just to be sure she hadn't been dreaming. Troy chuckled deliciously before nodding.
"Definitely. See ya Miss Montez." Ugh, she hated when he used her formal name. He had been doing it since he met her. Troy pushed his brawny shoulder off the wall to gain momentum in leaving.
"I've told you a million times to call me Gabriella." Another ignition of hot fire of their eyes connecting just before Troy grinned from ear to ear again.
"Sorry," he mumbled before giving a knee-crashing wave. "Guess it takes a million and one to sink in."