“You can’t be comfortable,” I whisper.
“I don’t care. I haven’t slept with you for far too long. I want you right here next to me. Anything else is unacceptable,” he says in a groggy voice. Sleepy Gavin is so damn sexy.
I nuzzle against him, soaking him in. The feel of his stubble on my cheek. The contours of his toned arms as they wrap around me. His intoxicating scent. Every detail about him draws me in, allowing me to finally feel safe.
He trails his finger lazily along my outer thigh. “I’ve never had this before, where I needed someone. Sleeping together was about proximity and convenience, but with you… I need to be close to you. When I lose my connection with you, I become fragmented. Nothing in my life works right, and there’s a void inside me. But when I hold you, the pain dulls, and my heart soars. I feel whole.”
I’m high off his words. His confidence is alluring. He’s a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it. So damn sexy.
I curl into him and kiss his neck. “I love you, Gavin.”
My stomach releases a growl that could wake the dead.
He runs his hands over my stomach. “It sounds as though I’m neglecting you. Time to order room service.”
I wipe the sleep out of my eyes. “You did make me abandon my burger yesterday after I was only a few bites in. Other than that, I can’t recall the last thing I ate.”
He hands me the room service menu and waits while I pick something. After I settle on chocolate chip pancakes with scrambled eggs, he places our order.
“I know it’s only been a few days, but it’s clearly taken its toll on you,” he says. “When I saw you at Brittany’s, you stopped me dead in my tracks.”
I nudge his shoulder. “That was because I was in costume and didn’t look anything like myself.”
He pulls me back down so we are lying on the bed facing each other. “No, I knew it was you instantly. Lily, I would recognize you anywhere no matter how elaborate your costume was. You look gaunt, hollowed out even. Between the dark circles under your eyes and how pale you’ve become, I’m worried, luv. You need a break from all of this. I want to take you away.”
I gesture at the room around us. “Notice the hotel room? We are away.”
“Don’t be cheeky. I mean completely out of reach, where we can unplug and focus on relaxing. An island paradise with no mobiles, no villains, and most importantly, no clothes. I know just the place. Please, let’s go.” He takes my hands. “Let’s go today. I’ll book a flight, and we can leave all this behind.”
“That sounds wonderful and I think we should do that, but not today. Christmas is just a few days away, and I haven’t celebrated Christmas in… I can’t remember how long. Ash wasn’t interested in anything but the presents, and Em is philosophically against holidays. Before that, I was at boarding school. I haven’t been able to get a tree and decorate it since my parents were alive. I’d love nothing more than to actually celebrate Christmas this year. Can we do that?”
Gavin gets up and walks to the living room. He grabs his bag and pulls out his laptop. “I think that’s brilliant. I’m sure we can catch a flight to DC this morning.”
Distracted by the view of his perfect ass, I almost miss what he’s said. “DC? No, Gavin, not DC. Take me home.”
I’m a coward. I should be able to say what I feel, but the words won’t form on my tongue. Words turn a beautiful concept such as us living together, and pours cement shoes on its’ feet, throws it in the Thames and tells it to swim. The carcinogenic rays of reality have a way of turning everything good in my life to carnage. What I have with Gavin is precious, I’m not about to tarnish it with things like commitments that have no hope of being honored, and naïve expectations of forever. I just want to bask in the beauty of now, so I ambiguously tap dance around the subject and pray my eyes convey my offer.
I think he knows what I’m saying. Thankfully, it seems to be enough for him right now. He sits on the bed next to me and kisses the top of my head. “What do you think about going to the country house? That’s where my family always celebrated Christmas. Liam and James will be down that way visiting their families. I’m sure they would pop by.”
I pull the sheet up around me. “Do you think James will come? After everything that happened?”
“James and I will mend this,” he says as he powers up his laptop. “I actually think inviting him for Christmas will be a good olive branch.”
I kiss his shoulder and lean back against the headboard while he searches for flights. “Sounds like it’s a good thing we’re home going then. Do you know what you’re going to do about O? After what happened at the club and with James, I think you need to address it.”
He pauses his search but doesn’t look at me. “I’ve taken care of it,” he says in a curt tone then resumes his search.
“What does that mean?”
He sighs, then closes the laptop. “She came by my flat, and we had a row. After everything that was said, I don’t think she’ll be a problem moving forward.”
Interesting how I’m just now hearing about this. “You need to give me more than that.”
“You didn’t give me much more when you discussed what transpired between you and Max. You told me I didn’t have to worry about it, and I believed you.”
“Yeah, after you knocked his ass out! You can hardly compare the two.” A thought pops in my mind, and I smile sweetly. “Unless you’re saying that I have permission to take a swing at O. I’d love to bust up her perfect little nose.”
Gavin resumes his search for flights. “Her father paid good money for that nose. And her cheek bones, and her chin, if I remember correctly.”
I kick him in the ass. “You’re deflecting. What happened?”
He takes the computer off his lap and sets it on the nightstand. “You have to remember, we’ve known each other our whole lives. Our row wasn’t about one thing, it was about a million things. Rubbish was dredged up from twenty-five years of friendship. Even if I dictated it back to you word for word, it probably wouldn’t make sense to you. Hell, I’m not sure it made sense to me at the time. I did see an ugly side to her that repulsed me. The bottom line is I can’t forgive the ways she’s tried to sabotage our relationship. No matter what excuse she has, I can’t look past it. So we’re done. Or I’m done at least. Shouldn’t that suffice?”
No, it doesn’t suffice! After all she’s done, she deserves to be strung up from the rafters and have her fingernails ripped out. Not that I can say that to him. “Fine. I guess I can live with that.” I point at him. “I promise you, she’s not going away. When she comes back, you’d better be ready to deal with it.”
He kisses my forehead. “Olivia can do whatever she wants. As of this moment, her antics will have no impact on us. Now, can I please get back to getting us a flight home?”
I gesture to his computer. “Carry on.” I tap my fingers on the bed while I think of my own unresolved issues. “What do you think I should do about Max?”
“I think you need to tell him everything. Lorenzo, Carlos, everything.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I heard what he said earlier, and I’m not protecting them—I’m protecting him. If I tell him everything, he’ll go after Zo and Carlos. That’ll get us all killed. I need to keep him on a leash, or it’ll spiral out of control.”
He slams his laptop closed. “It already is out of control! This is bigger than you are. You can’t keep fighting this on your own!”
Offended, I glare at him. “I think I’ve done pretty well on my own. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Gavin throws his hands up in frustration. “By the grace of God! You run off with this hare-brained plan, completely defenseless. You’re fighting a dragon with a chopstick! It’s asinine!”
“This isn’t about me,” I snap. “It’s about your need to be the hero. Your ego’s bruised because I refuse to be your damsel in distress. Sorry, but I’m not wired that way!”
He
jumps up, recoiling from my words. A look of disgust flashes across his face. “How dare you!” He runs his fingers through his hair. “This conversation needs to stop before we say things we’ll regret.” He storms out of the room, slamming the door.
Unable to just lie around, I stomp to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I replay our conversation over and over in my mind. Why can’t he just let me handle my own problems? If he’d put his ego aside for just a moment, I think he’d actually be proud of what I’ve done. I sure as hell am! If he can’t see that I’m strong enough to fight my own battles, he’ll never respect me. If there’s no respect, we’re doomed.
The shampoo bottle slips through my hands.
If there’s no respect, we’re doomed. I’m demanding he respect me, but have I been respectful of him?
The bottle lands on my big toe, causing me to jump back. I slip on the slick tile and fall through the glass shower door. Tiny shards of glass fall all around me as I hit the marble floor. Gavin bursts through the door. He scans the room in disbelief.
“You insulted my fighting skills, so I thought I’d show you by taking on the shower door. Impressed yet?”
This gets a small laugh from him as he carefully extricates me from the glass. “Always so damn cheeky.”
Less than ten minutes later, the hotel has people in the room to clean the mess. As it turns out, the rubber stopper on the bottom of the door was damaged, thus impacting the integrity of the tempered glass. The whole stubbing my toe and falling bit didn’t help, but the door could have shattered at any moment. Gavin’s livid. I think he’s taking all of his frustration with me out on the poor hotel manager. Something tells me, by the time this is all said and done, I’ll have a lifetime of free stays at the Four Seasons.
The best part of being in a Vegas casino: concierge doctor. A very cute doctor was in the room within minutes to pick out all the tiny pieces of glass in my skin. Considering how big the shower door was, I got very lucky. Only two stitches needed. While the doctor diligently looked me over, I couldn’t help wondering how someone gets stuck with his gig. I’m guessing serious gambling debt.
Once I’m deemed glass free, the manager moves Gavin and me to the suite down the hall. The door clicks as the manager leaves, and Gavin and I are left alone. The shower door fiasco only prolonged the inevitable.
“I let you save me from the shower door. That has to count for something, right?” I say, trying to break the ice.
His eyes are fixed on the floor, as though the answer is written in the carpet design. “The fact you think my intentions are derived from some narcissistic need to be a hero slays me.” His fist goes to his chest, as though he’s trying to rub away the pain I’ve caused. He looks me square in the eye. “All I want is you safe. I love you, and the thought of you in danger is more than I can handle. So in that respect, I suppose it is selfish. I want you alive so that I can wake up to you every morning and kiss you good night every night. That isn’t about my ego, that’s about how profoundly I love you. What have I ever done that’s led you to believe otherwise?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I suppose it’s easier to blame you than it is to acknowledge my own role in this. I need to be free of Ash, and all I can see are the roadblocks in my way of that freedom.”
His eyes narrow. “That’s how you see me? As a roadblock?” He staggers backward a few steps before hitting the sofa. He sits and lets his head fall in his hands.
I wipe the tears from my eyes. “In my mind, I needed to clean up this mess myself. It’s my punishment for marrying Ash. My penance.”
He laughs. “Catholics! I’ll never understand it.”
In dire need of a tissue, I walk to the bathroom. “Watch it, Oxford. I can poke fun at my Catholic crazy, but you can’t.” After washing my face and blowing my nose, I return to the living room. “I promise I’ll try. That’s all I can do. You need to be patient because I’m going to screw up. We’re trying to rewire something that’s been ingrained in me for almost fifteen years. It won’t be easy, but I promise I’ll try. I’ll even come clean with Max.”
He kisses me. “All I can ask is that you try. I’ll help you. Just don’t shut me out. I’m not trying to dominate you. I just want to protect you.”
I nudge his shoulder. “You want to be my super hero. Just be honest,” I tease.
“Not everyone can pull off that look. Tights and a cape are hard for a man to wear and still look manly,” he jokes back. “I love you. Your safety and happiness are crucial for my existence. I’ll stop at nothing to give you the world because you deserve nothing less. You can’t fault me for that.”
“Fucking-A, Gavin. I’m supposed to be the wordsmith in this relationship. I can’t hold a damn candle to you,” I say, fighting back tears. “You missed your calling as a poet or romance novelist or something.”
“I’ve found my calling, and you’re right here.”
Chapter Twenty
After finally getting off the emotional roller coaster of the past few days, make-up sex is definitely called for, but I don’t have it in me. I never thought I would be too emotionally drained to orgasm, but I am. While I feel like Gavin and I are in a better place, I can still feel the gravity of everything else weighing on me. It’s time to get the hell out of Vegas.
After booking the nine o’clock flight to London, Gavin calls Max to set up a time for us to meet before we leave. I can’t leave the country without clearing the air. Once plans are in the works, Gavin drags me downstairs to get something to eat. He wants fancy, and I just want to plop myself in front of the sundae bar at the all you can eat buffet. Nothing cures emotional exhaustion like bottomless brownie sundaes.
Gavin wins, however, and he ends up taking me to Hubert Keller’s restaurant. The prices are far fancier than my mood, but they have a “little plates” menu. I’m a sucker for getting to try bites of lots of different things. The same concept could have been accomplished at the buffet for a lot less money, but Gavin insists I won’t regret it.
He orders so much food, we need to move to a larger table to have room for it all. The meal is amazing. I may have been too tired for sex, but clearly not too tired for a foodgasm. My only regret is that I’m not wearing yoga pants. It’s going to be a long flight home with my pants this tight!
Since we have a few hours before we can see Max, I insist we sit at a few tables. How can we go to Vegas and not gamble at least a little?
Of course the brat beats me at blackjack. I know Vegas has systems in place to stop card counting, but if anyone could beat that system, it would be Gavin and his damn memory. We both do well at craps thanks to my stellar rolls.
When my streak breaks, I notice we need to leave soon to meet Max, so I drag Gavin toward the cashier. On the way, we pass a roulette wheel.
“Come on, Lil. Let’s let it ride. We’ll put it all on black,” Gavin says.
“No, never black. Always play red,” I insist.
“Black.”
“Red.”
“Black,” he says throwing all his chips on the table.
I put my chips on red, and we watch the wheel spin. “Oh, it’s on, Oxford. It. Is. On.”
“You won’t be saying that when I win, luv,” he taunts.
“Oh yeah? Let’s make it interesting.”
“I’m listening.”
“Loser has to… get a tattoo of the winner’s flag.” As soon as I say it, I regret it. What am I thinking?
“You’re done for. I can’t wait to see the Union Jack on you.” He leans in and whispers, “My cock is getting hard thinking about where we’re going to put it.” He pulls me in closer as if I needed evidence that he’s telling the truth.
One of us walks away with a lot more money in his pocket, and one of us is fearing a trip to the tattoo parlor. Despite my loss and impending tattoo doom, I’m having the best time. I forgot how much fun we have when we aren’t dealing with crazy stalkers or drug cartels. It reminds me that I never want to let him go.<
br />
The valet brings our rental car up, and we hop on LVB to meet Max.
“Seriously, where do you find a Bentley as a rental car?” I ask.
“It’s a hire car, luv. If I tell you, how will I impress you? Some secrets must be kept secret.”
“Let me guess… You call the Four Seasons, tell them what you want, and they find it for you?”
He smirks but doesn’t respond.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Where are we meeting Max?”
“I’m not sure. He just sent me the address. Max insisted on picking.”
“Oh Lord,” I groan.
“Yes?” Gavin replies.
I punch him hard enough to give him a dead arm.
“I told you, I’m never calling you that. Get over yourself.”
“You called me God plenty of times last night. Why is Lord so difficult?”
“Shut it, Oxford.” My cheeks flush with the memory. “As I was saying, you can never leave it to Max to pick the place. We could be going to a strip club or a Chuck E. Cheese.”
“Maybe it’s a tattoo parlor. Seems like a perfect time for you to pay up, don’t you think, luv?”
“Shut it. I’ll make good on that bet when I’m good and ready. Not today.”
“We’ll see, luv. We’ll see.” His tone clearly says he doubts my follow-through. “We only have a little over two hours before we have to leave for the airport. Wherever he has chosen can’t be that bad. Think of it as an adventure.”
“It always is with Max. If it’s karaoke, I’m not singing. That wasn’t part of the deal,” I insist.
We pull up to Frankie’s Tiki Room. I won’t have to sing, no screaming children, and no one will be getting naked. So far so good.
We head inside, and it’s just what I would expect in a Polynesian-themed bar. Dark, tiki torches, and big drinks with umbrellas. Max and Em are waiting by the door.
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