LAUREN
“You okay?” Gabe asked when we were back in the car.
I nodded. “Just need to sleep it off. I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” Well, I hoped I would be. I had work the next day. My stomach started to turn and I felt an alcohol-induced wave of sickness wash over me. “Pull over,” I said while reaching for the door handle.
Gabe pulled to the side of the road and I got out just in time to empty the contents of my stomach all over the sidewalk. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I waved Gabe away when he stood behind me.
“Don’t look,” I muttered and heaved again.
Gabe simply drew my hair away from my face and gently rubbed my back. “Believe me,” he said. “I’ve been here countless times before. It’s all good.”
I managed to slowly stand as the turning in my stomach quelled.
“Feel better?” Gabe asked.
“Just take me home.”
Gabe shook his head. “No way, not when you’re like this. My house is closer. You’re coming home with me.”
“No,” I said vehemently.
“Don’t worry, there is no way I would make a move on you while you’re like this.” He laughed. “What do you think I am?”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”
“It’s not up for debate. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you alone like this, so the only choice you get is your place or mine?”
My stomach lurched again and I ran over to the small strip of grass near the pathway. I heaved, but nothing came up. Fortunately, I managed to keep it under control for the drive back. Gabe’s house was dark and he led me to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and held his hand under the water until the temperature was right.
“You’ll feel better once you’re cleaned up.”
He walked out the door and closed it behind him as I undressed and gingerly climbed into the shower. It was bliss. The water ran over my face as I tipped it back and leaned against the cold tiles. The thoughts in my mind were heavy and thick. I picked up the soap and pressed it between my hands, lathering enough bubbles to run over my skin. When my hands passed over the scar, sadness welled up and the tears started to form. I knew many women had that same scar. But at least for them, it was a reminder of what they had, not of what they could never have.
Damn that alcohol.
When the door creaked open, Gabe informed me there was a t-shirt and a towel waiting. Under the curtain, I saw him pick up my clothes and take them away. I’m not sure how long I stood there, but the water had turned cold when I finally twisted the faucets off. Already, I was feeling a little better. I guess that was the only benefit of vomiting on the side of the road. All the alcohol had been dumped from my body.
I towel-dried my hair and slipped into Gabe’s t-shirt. It smelled like him. I lifted up the hem and inhaled deeply.
Whenever women wore men’s t-shirts in the movies, they were too big and their bodies sexily slipped into them. That is not how it happened. The t-shirt barely covered my butt cheeks and it clung tightly to my hips and chest. Gabe had broad shoulders and a well-developed chest, but it was still not as well developed as mine.
Pulling the edge of the t-shirt down, I tiptoed down the hall and slipped into Gabe’s bedroom. He was already lying in bed, hands propped behind his head. He grinned and let his eyes wander over me unabashed. I tried to stand so my thighs didn’t look quite so wide but there was really no point. There was no hiding. Noticing my discomfort, he rummaged in the drawer of his bedside cabinet and tossed me a pair of boxers. “Sorry, didn’t think about underwear.”
I pulled them on hastily and tossed back the covers so I could climb into bed. Turning onto my side, I curled myself up tightly and gathered the sheets under my chin, trying not to let the nauseating waves of the waterbed get to me.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” I said into the darkness when he turned off the light.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he moved closer and snuggled in behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and holding me tight.
“Night, buddy,” he said and I could hear the smile on his lips.
“Night,” I echoed, and promptly fell into a drunken sleep.
* * *
Gabe wasn’t in bed when I woke the next morning but I could hear noises outside the door, people talking and pots clanging. I poked my head out and managed to slip unnoticed down to the bathroom. Even though I had showered the night before, I still felt grimy. Fortunately, my stomach felt fine. No alcohol left in my system meant no hangover. I was horrified when I looked in the mirror and saw my messed up hair and the lines of smudged mascara that stained my cheeks. Hastily, I jumped through the shower, pulled Gabe’s t-shirt and boxers back on, and wrapped the towel around my wet hair.
“Morning,” Gabe called as soon as I stepped into the lounge. He and the flatmates were in the kitchen. Drew was cooking bacon and eggs.
“Hungry?” he asked.
My wet clothes were hanging on one of the clothes racks. I had no choice but to walk into the kitchen wearing nothing but Gabe’s t-shirt and boxers. Gabe’s eyes instantly lit up as they roamed over my body and I was mortified when my nipples hardened, whether, from his gaze or the cold, I wasn’t sure. I willed them away but failed. Gabe’s eyes were stuck on my chest, his pupils wide and dark, but when he noticed the others doing the same, he yelled, “Eyes off,” and the boys obeyed. Gabe pulled out one of the stools at the breakfast bar and Drew produced a plate full of bacon and eggs. It smelled divine, but after a little taste, I decided that was all I needed. Best not to push things.
Gabe disappeared into the shower and Stefan took the opportunity to harass me about the state I was in the night before.
“Gabe’s got a hairdryer in his room,” Drew said, nodding to my towel-covered wet hair.
I excused myself and walked into Gabe’s room to find him stark naked, pulling on a pair of boxers. Mortified, I turned away and covered my eyes. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were still in the shower.” The colour rose up my cheeks and I knew that it was the kind when I turned beet red.
Gabe didn’t say anything and wrestled with his jeans until I heard him walk the few steps over to me. I stayed facing the door, covering my eyes with my hands, until the pressure of his touch turned me to face him. His eyes were dark. He reached up and pulled at the towel, releasing my damp hair. My breath hitched and I stood frozen as he brushed it back. He stepped closer and I backed into the door as he placed his hands either side of my face. Replaying the last time I found myself in this position, he didn’t do anything but stare. His blue eyes burned into mine, waiting for me to pull myself off the door and inch closer to him. I didn’t. I held his gaze and lifted my chin a little. If he wanted me, he could damn well make the first move. We were so close, I only needed to move a fraction and I knew I could have his lips on mine. But again, I didn’t.
And then, in one smooth movement, Gabe’s eyes fell to my lips, his hand snaked around my waist, up my back, and jerked me close until I was pressed against him. I could feel his heat, feel his breath as it came out hot and heavy. He waited for me again, still looking longingly at my lips. My breathing quickened and I could see the hunger in his eyes, but I still didn’t move.
Finally, after a few moments where I wrestled with myself and almost gave in, he crushed his mouth against mine. The force slammed my body back against the door and, unable to contain myself any longer, I ran my hands over his shoulders and around his neck, threading them through his hair, pulling him harder against me. His hand fell to my breast and I groaned as my nipples hardened under his touch. His other hand skimmed up the back of my neck and twisted my hair, tugging it against my scalp. My hands remained tangled in his blond locks as he held my head back with his grasp and lowered his head to my breast, sucking on my nipple through the soft material of his own shirt. I melted. My knees buckled and I came undone.
Until I heard the sound of muffled laughter on the other side of the door. I stiffened and Gabe groaned with denied pleasure. He moved back up my body and placed his lips on my ear.
“I need you,” he whispered, hushed and breathless. “Please say I can come over tonight.”
“Yes.” The word escaped before I could catch it.