My eyes linger on his, and I see the scar again that sits on the side of his face. I follow it down past his chin, his neck, his chest, and down to his stomach, inches away from where my hand hovers. I’m suddenly reminded of myself—of that night—and pull away in a flash.
I meet Gabe’s eyes again and see the hurt dart across his expression before disappearing. He replaces it with a sad, but understanding smile. But there’s something in his reaction that I relate to, something in his scars that I understand. And before he can say anything, I run my fingers through his silky strands of hair, my fingers trailing down his temple, touching the tip of the scar.
He grabs my wrist and shakes his head slightly, his eyes wide, pleading with me. In that moment I know that he never expected me to go through with it. Hasn’t anyone touched them before?
His hand remains wrapped around my wrist as I lower my arm, and I gently pry his fingers off. Then I roll up my sleeve.
Taking his hand, I place it on my arm again, right over the largest of the scars. His thumb sweeps across it and his eyebrows draw together. Continuing his soft caress, his thumb moves down the length of my forearm, trying to find the end.
But there was no real end. His thumb skims across another puckered scar, which he traces down the long, even lines, only to find another, and another. His eyes meet mine, widening. He clenches his jaw while his fingers investigate the rest of my arm, finding similar lines of different shapes and sizes.
When his fingers reach the tips of mine, Gabe rests his hands over mine as we sit ramrod straight in our chairs, facing each other. A heavy cloud of emotion passes between us. The knowing, compassionate look in his eyes fuels the embarrassment and shame constantly swirling inside of me. He probably thinks I’m weak. I need to get this over and done with.
Reaching forward, I place my hand flat on his abs, startling him a little. I trace the lines of his six-pack, his body shuddering with each gentle caress. My fingers linger near the scars on his abdomen and he tenses, his muscles tightening and six-pack defining beneath my fingers. I shoot him an apologetic smile and scoot away. But as I near the edge of the seat, his hand shoots out, grabbing mine, his eyes sparkling with recognition.
Still holding my hand, we turn to face the quiet group who are watching us with a mixture of understanding and sadness.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I need a drink,” Mia says, pouring everyone a shot. I can see the tight set of her jaw and can tell she is fighting off emotion, as I am. But somehow, I feel calmer than I have in a long time.
“So, what else do you want to tick off your list tonight, Ellie?” Claire interrupts the somber moment. I see her eyes flick down to my arms, seemingly only now realizing the scars, but she conceals her shock well with a dazzling smile. “You may as well get the body shot out of the road,” she says.
Glancing between Claire and Gabe, I smile but shake my head. “Ah, no. I think we should probably call it a night.”
“If you want to, Ellie, I don’t mind,” Gabe says. “Who’d honestly complain about having a beautiful woman’s mouth on their body.” We meet eyes for a moment, that same mutual understanding passing between us, but he quickly clears a spot and hauls himself onto the table. Lying on his back in front of me, he uses a napkin to wipe down his chest and abs before pouring a shot of whiskey into his navel.
Resting back on his elbows, he carefully turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”
I laugh, shaking my head. Of all the ways tonight could have gone. Rising from my seat, I place my hands on his muscled, jean-clad leg and the other on his chest, my heart racing.
“Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!” Mia chants loudly, earning us curious stares from the other patrons.
I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Lowering my mouth to Gabe’s toned navel, I suck on the pool of whiskey, heat burning across my face. Turning my head, Gabe leans back further, resting on his elbows, watching me with hooded eyes. Keeping my eyes locked onto his, I lick the last remaining drops from his body, smirking as he trembles slightly. Two can play this game.
“What the hell are you doing?”
My head snaps toward the bark of anger, only to meet a familiar pair of fizzling baby blue eyes. Shit.
5
Ellie
I’m not sure which is worse; having my hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar, or being caught by the man I’ve been fantasizing about for years, wishing it was him I had my mouth on.
Wearing a shit-eating grin, Gabe hops off the table, hugging me to his side. “Any time that you need a fine, male form to have your wicked way with, come find me,” he says quietly, placing a soft kiss on my hair. His whispered words mixed with his Southern drawl sends shivers down my spine.
My face burns pink and heat spreads through my body at his comment. I give him a playful shove, then take his large hand in mine, squeezing it gently as I look into his eyes. Gabe has this aura around him. It makes me feel… accepted? Squeezing his hand once more, I let it go, offering him a small smile.
“Rhett! You finally made it, asshole!”
Shooting me a dark look, Garrett stares at Gabe, before turning back to Ryan and pouring himself a drink. “Well, it looks you guys started the fun without me. Hello, Eleanor,” his eyes flick up to me again, his gaze lingering on my exposed arms, my scars on full display. Tugging down on my sleeves, I cross my arms over my tightening chest. Why does he have to be here? To see this.
Ryan and Gabe exchange a look.
“You guys know each other?” Ryan asks.
I bite the inside of my cheek as my eyes moves across the three of them. “Yes, it just so happens that Garrett is—”
“The irresistible man next door,” Garrett interrupts me with a smirk as he draws his glass to his lips.
I glare at him. “I was going to say, asshole neighbor, actually.” Mia and Katie snigger behind me.
“Wait, you two know each other?” Mia asks, her expression sobering as she glances between them.
They nod as Ryan laughs, shaking his head. “It’s a small world, but man, you missed the best part. Ellie has moves.” He salutes me with his glass. “She seems all sweet and innocent, but she’s a natural on the pole.”
Garrett chokes, spraying his drink across the table as he gasps for air. His bloodshot eyes find mine, shock and disbelief warring across his face. “You’re a stripper?”
I flinch at his tone, his words digging into old wounds.
“It’s called exotic dancing, and what’s it to you, asshole?” Claire crosses her arms across her chest, glaring daggers at Garrett.
“Oh, shit.” Gabe sips on his drink, shaking his head.
“Foot in mouth, bro,” Ryan adds.
A frown pulls on Garrett’s face, his head tilting slightly to the side as he glances around the table until he reaches Claire. His eyes sweep over her, then widen with realization.
“Listen here, douche canoe,” she rounds on him. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with being an exotic dancer. What we do here is far more impressive than some back-alley dive you’re thinking about.” Standing up, she struts around the table to stand in front of Garrett with her hands on her hips. “And don’t you ever speak about Ellie like that again, or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass, you’ll taste leather. Capeesh?”
Snatching the bottle of whiskey from his hands, Claire pours herself another shot as she hops back into her chair, shooting me a wink. This chick has some serious lady balls. Garrett, on the other hand, stands rooted in place, his eyes bulging and his lips parted.
I chuckle, feeling a sense of satisfaction watching the man being put in his place. At my laughter, Garrett’s face morphs from shock to annoyance, his grumpy huffs eliciting another round of giggles from the group, earning each of us a glare in turn.
But as Garrett’s eyes lock onto mine, the world falls away. The pounding of the music dulls to the silence between my heartbeats. His eyes shoot fire through my veins, scorching a path of heat and
desire in its wake. What would it be like to have those lips pressed against mine?
Squirming in my chair, I look away, a blush creeping over my face. With trembling hands, I take out my phone, hoping the distraction will settle the whirlwind of emotions rushing through me. My mindless tapping sends me through to my ride app. I look up at everyone around me, absorbed in their own conversations, and my eyes settle on Gabe, Garrett beside him. Two different men, two different feelings; one nurturing, the other primal. I quickly order a ride. Tonight has ended up being a lot more than I bargained for.
I slip my phone back into my purse. “I think I’m going to call it a night,” I say as I shuffle my way out of the booth, keeping as far from Garrett as possible.
“Aw, why?” Katie pouts, reaching out to grab my hand as I stand, sliding on my newly acquired trench coat.
I squeeze Katie’s hand once before letting go. “It’s getting late and I’m kind of tired. Are you guys coming back to mine, or…?”
Katie’s eyes flick toward the bar, pausing for a second before turning back to me. She shakes her head. “No, I-I’m going to stay for a bit…” She withdraws a little, her energy feigning slightly for the first time tonight. Biting her lip, she takes a sip of her drink, her eyes straying back to the bar, to Nic.
Mia and I exchange a glance, watching Katie. Mia shakes her head, “I’m kid-free, so I’m going to enjoy it for a little while longer,” then pours herself another drink. “We still on for movies tomorrow night?”
I nod. “Yup. See you guys at lunch?”
They nod their heads in return, and I give them both a tight hug before turning to Claire who hugs me quickly, handing over her phone number written in ballpoint on a napkin. “When you get a chance, call me and we can catch up.”
I give Claire a small, sheepish smile. “That sounds great.”
Saying a quick goodbye to Ryan who gives a short wave in return, I turn to Gabe, and I’m enveloped in a tight, clothed hug—such a shame. Pulling back, he takes my phone from my hand and pops his number in. Handing it back to me, he places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth, his lips soft against my skin. “Call me.”
I watch him as he walks away to the bar. He leans over it, propping one foot up on the rail and resting his forearms on the smooth counter. The soft lights above him are casting perfect shadows over his perfect…
“I think you have some drool there, Ellie,” Garrett smirks, pointing to my mouth.
Ripped from my reverie, I practically growl at him—again. “Oh, go fuck yourself.” Then, with a quick wave goodbye to Nic, I extricate myself from the booth and head toward the doors.
“Ellie, wait!” Mia’s head pops up over the booth as I stand on its other side. Her hand rises up over it, waving something flat and shiny. “Do you want your scavenger hunt list?”
Garrett is standing now. He looks at the paper in Mia’s hand. “What list?”
Ryan snorts. “Man, you should check it out. She has to do crazy shit like touch a guy’s abs and give someone a lap dance. It’s hilarious.”
“She… No. That’s not happening.” he reaches over and grabs the list from Mia’s hand, his jaw tensing as his eyes skim down the page. She complains, but he’s already engrossed in it, eyebrows furrowed as he quickly skims the lines.
I raise my eyebrows and snatch the paper from his hand, glaring. Too bad, buster. Nothing is stopping me from finishing this list. It had started out as a way to spice up my life… but now? It’s becoming so much more than that. My eyes drift over to Gabe, to Claire.
“Ellie?” Garrett looks at me across the booth, but I ignore him, turning on my heel toward the exit. Nodding at the bouncer, I push my way through the doors, the cold air blasting against my skin. I hurry to the sidewalk, shivering and bouncing on my feet as I wait for my ride.
“You can’t be serious, Eleanor. This is ridiculous.”
I huff and turn around. Of course, the douchebag followed me. “Too bad, Garrett. It’s not really any of your concern what, or who, I do.”
Running my hands over my arms, I continue to bounce on my feet, wishing I was home where it was warm. “And it’s for research. So deal with it.” Turning back to the street, I spot my ride as it pulls up a few meters away. I flag the driver down with a wave of my hand, and he moves forward. I pull open the door—check the driver is my driver—and get in.
Just as I go to pull the door closed, a hand reaches out and catches it. Garrett pulls it back open and slides in next to me.
“I’m with her,” he says gruffly.
The driver turns back and gives me a look as if to say, “Are you sure?”
Rolling my eyes, I give him a curt nod: “No, but try getting rid of him.”
With a shrug, the driver faces forward, turns on his indicator and merges with the slow-moving traffic. I sit, watching the city lights go by outside the window, the late-night party-goers stumbling home on the sidewalk. I can see Garrett’s reflection watching me, but attempt to look past it, focusing on the buildings beyond the glass.
Finally, he sighs. “Are you seriously going through with this?”
What are my chances of ignoring him? I catch the eyes of his reflection and send him a quick glare without turning around. He frowns, pursing his lips in response, and we both remain silent for the remainder of the journey, the tension radiating between us growing with every passing minute. Why does it matter so much to him?
When the driver pulls up to our building, I thank him and get out in the same breath. Rushing toward the doors, I wave to Jim—the security guard—and he smiles politely back. Until he notices Garrett power-walking up the sidewalk to keep up with me—then his smile drops.
I’ve already pressed the elevator call button by the time he makes it back to my side, but we continue to wait in silence. The quiet, electronic whoosh of the descending box behind the closed doors taunts me with its apparent slowness. Garrett shuffles next to me, and the air between us intensifies. My skin tingles where he watches me like his eyes are sending waves of electricity in my direction.
The elevator dings and I’m inside, pressing our floor’s button before the doors have fully opened. I lean back against the rail and keep my eyes plastered to the number pad on the opposite wall as Garrett steps in next to me. Almost home. Hopefully, Georgie doesn’t need to go out.
But then Garrett turns to face me. Shit. “Why are you doing this, Ellie?”
Rubbing the tension from between my eyes, I take in the man’s stiff stance, concern pulling on his handsome face instead of the usual smugness. Sighing, I lean my head back against the cool steel of the elevator, the night’s festivities catching up with me. “My latest manuscript sucked.” Picking at non-existent lint on my dress, I focus on the ceiling of the elevator and the lights blaring down on me. “It sucked so bad that Mia suggested I take a break from writing and find my muse. She’s hoping that if I find some passion or spark, it will somehow seep into my book.”
“Ellie…” He sighs, coming to lean on the wall next to me. The heat from his body penetrates my cold skin, raising goosebumps across my arms. He shakes his head. “You are passionate. You’re fiery, feisty, and brilliant. You just need to unleash that passion into your work instead of onto me.” I look up at him and his lips quirk into that smug grin I’m so used to seeing. But this time it doesn’t feel malicious. He signals to the laminated sheet still clutched in my hands. “You don’t need to do all of this to find what’s already there.”
“But I do. I have to do this, Garrett.”
“Why do you have to?”
“Because…” I look at the floor, my gaze dropping. “Because I want to know what it’s like to be wanted, to feel sexy… Hell, even to think I’m beautiful.” Chills stretch along my back at my words, along the scars decorating my arms. I laugh dryly. “Hell, I don’t even remember what it’s like to feel passionate… That swirling, intense feeling that consumes you every time you so much as… look at someone.” My mouth dries as I sen
se the intensity of Garrett’s stare.
“I think you do,” he says quietly, his gaze trailing over my lips.
I raise my chin to his steely gaze. “How would you know? You don’t know me, Garrett. I—”
He steps in so close his hard body presses against mine. His mouth moves to my ear as he whispers, “I know more than you think, Ellie.”
I shiver as his breath tickles my neck, but he goes on: “I know your friends and your dog are the most important people to you.” He places a soft kiss on my jaw, sending shivers cascading down my body. “You love deeply and feel more than most.” His lips brush against my cheek, and I can’t help but enjoy the way his lips feel against my skin.
“I know you love rom-coms, you’re addicted to mint ice cream, and you go through more white wine than a seafood restaurant.” He grins against my cheek, his soft chuckle rumbling through my body, setting it alight. “Your laugh is infectious; it can light up an entire room.” My heart patters in my chest, the damn thing doing loops.
“You’re incredibly smart… and feisty—I can’t help but bring it out of you,” his tone shifts, light, and mocking, reminding me of who this man is. I try to shift away, but his hand stops me. “And do you know what I think about when you become a little spitfire?”
Drawing in a shaky breath, I tremble against him. “No.”
“This.” Running his thumb over my jaw, he presses his soft lips against mine, cradling my face with one hand and drawing me closer with the other.
His lips mold onto mine, moving at a tauntingly slow pace, teasing me with each second. He tastes like whiskey; smooth and delicious. My body starts to move on autopilot. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer as I deepen the kiss, nipping at his lip. His responding groan fills me with womanly satisfaction.
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