“Ready to head home?” Gabe holds out his hand without another word, and I take it.
We part ways with Hudson and Charlie after a few more minutes, and Gabe pulls me out the door and to his car.
The car ride is extremely silent as we both seem to be stuck in our heads. My mind keeps spinning in circles over everything Hannah and Charlie said to me tonight, slowly but surely driving me crazy.
When we get back to Gabe’s house, it looms in front of us, surrounded by the last specks of orange and pink hues between the otherwise darkening sky. It looks beautiful and somehow also calms my nerves, which is exactly what I need right now.
Gabe pulls the car keys out of the ignition and opens his door. “Come on, let’s go inside. I wasn’t planning on spending the night in the car.”
When he looks at me, I wonder what exactly he does have in mind for tonight.
Thirty
Gabe
The click of the front door shutting behind me is eerily loud in the otherwise quiet house. I take a moment to collect my thoughts, still rooted to the same spot in the entryway as I stare at the silver keys in my hand. Monica turns on one of the dim lights in the hallway, casting a warm glow all around us.
Even though she stands in the shadows, it’s still enough for me to see her staring at me too. Her chest heaves up and down in quick succession—making her dress look a little restrictive—and I wonder if she feels as on edge as I do.
This whole day has been an utter mind game for me, my brain not able to let go of the fact that I have less than forty-eight hours left with my best friend and the woman I just figured out I’m in love with. The same one I’ve decided to let go so she can follow her dreams.
I’m not sure if that makes me noble or just utterly stupid.
All I know is, right now, it feels like the fact I won’t be seeing her for a long time could rip me into pieces if I let it. So, I try not to think about it, focusing on the here and now, instead of what’s ahead of me.
Neither one of us has moved an inch, our gazes still across the small entryway.
“Monica, I—” I take a step toward her the same moment she does, and before I know it, we’re a flurry of arms and hands, reaching, pulling each other closer until our mouths finally collide.
Our lips move as if they’ve been starving for each other for centuries, not sure how to ever survive without the other one again. It’s beautiful and sad, the moment carving itself deeply into my chest like an eternal tattoo to my soul.
I want to kiss her forever, focusing on those soft lips, but the rest of her body is silently begging me for attention too. The sweet scent of her skin is already infiltrating my senses, making me slightly intoxicated by her presence alone.
After another searing hot kiss, I tug on her lower lip before slowly making my way over to her cheek, the delicate corner of her jaw, gently sucking and nibbling a path to her ear, knowing that paying particular attention to her sensitive spot there will drive her crazy.
And that’s precisely what I’m planning on doing tonight—driving her crazy so she will remember me. So that when I have to say goodbye to her, she can soar like the exotic bird she is. Without anything holding her back, without anything keeping her from being the rising star she was meant to be.
Even though it hurts to think about, she was right when she said she was born to be onstage, traveling the world.
If I didn’t believe it before, which I did, seeing her live and in action these past few weeks have definitely proven it.
This is it. Her thing.
Her magic that needs to be shared with the world.
“Do that again.” She moans, arching her body into mine while turning her head to the side to give me even better access to the curve of her neck and ear.
After torturing her some more at her sensitive spot, I trail my tongue down her throat, enjoying all the little noises I’m coaxing out of her. When I make it to her shoulder, I push the thin strap of her dress off it and down her arm, just to follow the trail first with my fingers and then my mouth. Her head automatically falls my way, leaning in closer, her eyes closed, lips parted, teeth gently biting the lower half.
She’s given herself entirely over to me, something I never thought would mean this much, making the ache in my chest intensify. “Monica, look at me.”
Her eyelids pull open slowly, her shiny green eyes dark like a forest during a rainstorm, and I’m ready to get lost in them. All night, if she’ll let me.
The urge to leave my mark on her somehow, so she’s unable to ever forget me, gets stronger with every second that ticks by.
The immediacy of the situation hits me once again in the chest, like a sledgehammer. The force of it so strong, I’m moments away from faltering under it.
Her dreamlike gaze locks with mine before roaming all over my face, centering me. My eyes zoom in on her tongue when it darts out of her mouth to lick those pink lips I’ve become slightly obsessed with.
The corners of her mouth go up into a lazy grin as she focuses back on me. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I can’t hold back the quiet chuckle because this moment is a perfect depiction of how Monica and I are.
The tension between us is thick and filled with pleasurable promise, but at the same time, we can have odd and funny moments, just like in our everyday life. I like that about us because, to me, that means we stay true to ourselves, no matter what situation we’re in.
And I’ve learned over the years that’s not necessarily a given with most people.
“Why did you stop?” A little frown forms between her eyebrows. “Second thoughts?”
“What? Goodness, no. With you—never.” I shake my head, like she just said the craziest thing I’ve ever heard—which she kind of did. I would never not have her, unless she didn’t want me, of course, but that goes without saying. “If you want this as much as I do, there’s absolutely nothing that can keep it from happening. Do you hear me? Nothing.”
I’m probably making this worse for myself—the feelings for her so fully immersed into my whole being, they might never let me go again—but it’s too late to change course now.
I’m hers, even if she doesn’t know it.
I might as well enjoy every ounce of ecstasy I can have with this beautiful woman. And then I can—and probably will—drown in those memories.
“Are you kidding me? You know how much I love being with you like this. I don’t ever want you to stop.” I raise an eyebrow, and she continues, “Well, you know what I mean. Of course, we’d have to stop to eat and drink and all that, and let’s not forget we have airplanes to catch, and places to be, but—”
“Monica.” I take her hand and pull her close to me again.
“Hmm?” She looks up at me with those trusting eyes, and my fingers ache to touch her everywhere, to explore every single inch of her body like it’s truly the last time.
Pushing the sadness threatening to overcome me way down, I put on a smile and try my hardest to focus on enjoying the hell out of this night with her. No need to ruin it right now. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” She turns around and walks toward the staircase, her steps determined and fast, while she pulls me after her with a surprising strength that makes me chuckle. Stopping in the middle of the stairs, she turns back to me. “What? Is something funny?”
“I just love your eagerness, that’s all.” Letting go of her hand, I walk up to the step below her, almost putting us at the same height. Leaning into her, I press my hard body against hers, my mouth grazing her ear. “Now get that sexy ass of yours into my bed because I don’t want to waste another second with you.”
She pulls back to shoot me a look, her eyes wider than usual.
I give her butt a little squeeze. “Please?”
Monica wastes no time, spinning around to make her way up the rest of the stairs and straight into my bedroom as fast as she can without actually running.
Of course, I’m right
behind her, snatching her up the second she spins around to face me. This time, she stands right in front of my king-sized bed, right where I want and need her.
My hands brush through her hair, gently untangling her strands before settling at the nape of her neck. Tipping back her head, I expose her neck to me, tracing it with the tip of my tongue. A moan escapes her, and I have to admit, it’s especially thrilling to not only hear it but to also feel it right underneath my touch.
“Please don’t make me beg.” Her voice sounds strangled as her head turns to the side, her mouth desperately catching mine in a frantic kiss. Monica’s hands wind through my hair as she presses her body closer, her breasts flattening against my chest.
I can feel her hardened nipples through our clothes, knowing I can’t deny either one of us much longer what we both so obviously want and need. Without breaking our kiss, I make my way slowly down her shoulders and her back before I finally find the zipper. Despite my shaky hands, I’m able to open it without any issues.
Thank goodness.
Otherwise, I might have ripped it apart.
Monica makes quick work of my clothes too, her movements determined and a little frenzied.
A minute later, we stand in a pool of clothes, and I take her face in my hands, silently willing her to look at me.
There’s a softness in her eyes that makes my heart skip a beat, and I can’t help myself, pressing my lips against hers before speaking. “Let’s take this slow tonight, okay? I want to enjoy every single last moment with you.”
She blinks rapidly but nods as I push her back into the mattress, knowing this is going to be one of the best and most intense nights of my life, and that it’s going to be hell saying goodbye to her.
One thing is for sure.
Nothing has ever felt as natural as being with Monica. After hours of the most intense sex I’ve ever had, she’s cuddled in my arms, deeply asleep, while my body is still trying to calm down after our marathon session. Neither one of us could get enough, feasting on each other like the world was about to end.
More than once, I thought I saw a flicker in her eyes, a spark that was trying to tell me this means more to her too. But then, this is Monica we’re talking about. She’s the first person I’d expect to speak up if something’s on her mind.
Plus, this whole time, we’ve been pretty straightforward with what this is.
Leave it to me to not realize I already had feelings for her before we started this little thing. Being intimate with her brought those feelings to the surface and intensified them by about sixty trillion times.
Breathing in her scent as much as I can, I will my brain to memorize every single detail of the woman in my arms, no matter how small or trivial it seems.
As much as it will hurt, I don’t want to forget any of it.
I don’t ever want to forget her.
Thirty-One
Monica
Trying to fit as much as possible into my one measly suitcase while packing up the rest of my stuff in boxes to leave with Gabe has been the highlight of my day, and not in a good way. I was planning on bringing my remaining things over to Charlie, but Gabe insisted I leave them here. According to him, it would make no sense to take them anywhere else, so he told me to stop being difficult.
Okay then.
Saving myself the work was good enough for me.
The biggest problem now is to decide what to take with me and what to leave. I used to be good at this, pretty minimalistic after being on the road for so long.
But this last year has clearly domesticated me in more than just one way.
Grabbing the smallest pieces of clothing around me, like my underwear, bras, and negligees, I stuff them all around the outsides of my other clothes, a trick I learned early on.
My fingers sift through the soft material of one of my nightgowns, making me think of sexy times with Gabe. Anything that could even remotely be seen—or turned into—something sensual makes me think of doing the horizontal tango with that man.
Totally normal thought process, right?
Pictures of last night flood my mind, the way he worshipped my body, touching me everywhere with his mouth and hands like he couldn’t get enough. The way our eyes locked when he was deep inside me. The way my whole world shattered with one mind-blowing orgasm after another.
The memories slowly turn into something else, something tainted. Mixed with fear and anxiety, no doubt stemming from everything Hannah and Charlie have said to me.
Most and foremost, Charlie’s last question.
Are you in love with him or not?
Am I?
I aimlessly grab for stuff, suddenly feeling restless, shoving everything and anything into the suitcase without paying much attention to it. When my fingers grasp something cold, my mind snaps back to the item in my hand.
It’s a framed picture from last year’s Christmas party at the Mitchells’ house. Rebecca took a picture of the “kids,” which included Charlie and me.
Despite the fact that we’re all wearing ugly Christmas sweaters—looking utterly ridiculous—it’s still one of my favorite pictures ever. Hudson and Gabe are laughing about some stupid joke Hudson made, their mouths wide open, their heads thrown back.
My gaze zooms in on me. I’m next to Gabe, gazing up at him with a smile on my face.
No!
No.
No.
No.
I’m not just gazing up at him.
I look smitten...absolutely enamored.
Well, fucking hell.
I suddenly feel dizzy, my skin tingling everywhere.
Leaning against the bed, I let my head fall back and close my eyes. Behind my eyelids, my mind conjures a mini-movie, flooding me with images from my time with Gabe.
All the evenings we spent together on the couch because we enjoy each other’s company more than anyone else’s on a constant basis. All the thoughtful moments we had over the year when I was too blind and lost to see much of what was happening around me, yet he still stood by my side.
All the times he’s helped me during my active recovery—making sure I had everything I needed and got to my appointments, watching me like a hawk so I wouldn’t do too much and get injured again.
And then, most recently—getting me to go on that trip and dance again, followed by the touches, the kisses, the sweet gestures, and the best and most sensational sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.
This man has rocked my world in so many ways, being my anchor when I needed him to be, my silent supporter, and never asking for anything in return.
He’s an absolute saint.
He’s the man I fell in love with.
Without even realizing it. Absolutely clueless.
My mind is fuzzy, distracted by all the memories of Gabe that have always meant so much more.
My stomach flutters while my pulse hammers under my skin, acting like it’s getting an adrenaline push at the end of a race.
Before I know what’s going on, I’m on my feet and out the door.
The urge to tell Gabe is at the forefront of my mind. So strong, I’m having trouble not shouting the words through the whole house. My steps are fast but quiet, thanks to my years of dance training, as I speed down the staircase in the back of the house. When I’m about to round the corner into the kitchen, I stop short when I hear Gabe say my name. When he speaks again, I realize he’s on the phone.
“Yeah, Monica’s packing.” He lets out a loud huff as I try to get my breathing under control. “What’s there to talk about, Hudson?”
Hudson? Why are they talking about me?
“No, I won’t talk to her about it. She’s doing what she’s wanted to do forever. I don’t want her to stay. It wouldn’t work out. Trust me.”
If someone would have punched me in the face right then and there, it couldn’t have hurt any more.
“She loves dancing too much, you know that. It’s everything to her, her whole life.”
Thos
e words.
The same words my exes have said to me.
It all slams into me at once. Years of hurt and betrayal that others don’t want me the way I am, embarrassment over who I am so strong, I have to steady myself on the wall. My body is shaking within seconds, the emotions so intense, I’m afraid my body is going to collapse in on itself at any moment.
In the far corner of my subconscious, I hear Gabe’s raised voice, registering frustration and anger I’ve barely ever heard before. But it’s drowned out quickly by my own brain fog as I’m trying to get up the stairs—crawling more than actual walking, with my fist pressed to my lips—trying desperately to get into the confines of my room before a sob breaks through.
I’m not sure how, but somehow, I manage to make it there, the door securely closed behind me, before the first tear falls. Before I came to Brooksville, I’d barely cried in years. Now, for the second time in two days, I can’t blink fast enough to keep up with the tears that are falling at a rapid rate.
My vision blurs as I aimlessly stumble over to my bed. The only thing I want right now is to close my eyes long enough to push the pain away. To be able to forget the last hour, to not remember the realization of having my chest feel like it might explode out of excitement and love at one moment, just to be ripped apart in shreds, mere minutes later.
I don’t even want to scotch-tape my heart right now. Better to leave it broken the way it is since it will never be the same again without him anyway.
How could I be so stupid to think for even a moment that we could somehow make this work, that he actually loves me back?
The tightness in my throat is almost painful as I will the nausea in my stomach to disappear. The last thing I need right now is to throw up.
Sobbing into the comforter, I close my eyes, ready for the pain to drag me under.
I wake up to someone saying my name.
When I open one eye, I look straight at Gabe.
The Mitchell Brothers Collection: A Feel-Good Romance Box Set Page 54