Chapter Thirteen
Jonathan
Gabby lets out a funny squeak, then runs into my room and slams the door, her back pressed against it and her hands over her face. She has on her T-shirt and panties and nothing else.
Grinning, I sit up and wait for her to tell me what happened. She doesn’t. “Hey.”
Still nothing.
I can’t help laughing. “Gabby, what’s going on?”
“Um, I think I might’ve just met your roommate.”
“What?” Throwing back the covers, I find my jeans and pull them on, not bothering with boxers right now.
She peeks at me through her fingers. “Well, unless some other guy has a key to your house and wanders in unannounced?”
“Tall guy? Brown hair? Glasses?” She nods, her fingers closing over her eyes again.
Yeah, I can see why she’s embarrassed. Ben and I’ve been friends for years. He has a serious girlfriend, and I’d trust him with my life. Even with all that, I’m not thrilled that he saw Gabby like this. But what can I do?
Running my hands up her arms till I get to her wrists, I gently tug her hands away from her face. She lets me, but keeps her eyes closed. I drop a kiss on her mouth and keep my voice soft, like I’m calming a skittish animal. “Get dressed, and I’ll introduce you. It’s about time you two met.”
“Oh my God.”
Even though I just came not that long ago, those words in her voice again send blood rushing south. She says them differently, whispering them instead of yelling them, but my dick doesn’t seem to care.
I ignore it, though. There’ll be plenty of time to explore her more and see how many ways I can get her to say those words again later.
For now, I pull her against me, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, Gabby. Ben’s a good guy. From the way you ran in here, you probably got away before he got an eyeful.”
She shakes her head, her eyes finally opening, her expression miserable. “No, I didn’t. I came out of the bathroom right as he turned around from closing the door, keys in hand. I froze. And he froze. And then I ran into your bedroom. For all I know he’s still out there staring at the blank space where I was standing, frozen like a statue. Is my hair made of snakes? Maybe I’m Medusa all of a sudden. That might be okay. Then I wouldn’t have to talk to your roommate after he saw me run into your room practically naked. But you’re not a statue. So I guess not. Unless you’re immune, maybe?”
Her nervous babbling is cracking me up, but I suppress my urge to laugh since she’s still upset. Instead I kiss her lips, just a quick peck, but it’s enough to interrupt the flow of words coming from her. “You’re not Medusa. Your hair is beautiful and not snake-like at all. I’m sure Ben isn’t a statue. And all the important bits are covered, so it’s not a big deal.”
She looks at me like maybe my hair has turned to snakes. “Not a big deal? Are you serious right now?” She pushes me away and gestures at herself. “I’m wearing a shirt. And underwear. No bra. No pants. This isn’t how I want to be dressed when I meet your roommate.” Her cheeks start turning pink, and her voice turns into a harsh whisper. “He has to know what we’ve been doing. Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed.” She covers her cheeks with her hands, shaking her head and refusing to meet my eyes. “Oh my God.”
“Gabby, you have to stop saying that.” The way she twisted and writhed against me when she came, how hot and tight she felt when I finally got inside her, all of those things flash through my mind every time she says those words. And I don’t need a hard-on when I introduce her to my roommate.
She looks up at the sudden sharpness in my voice. “What? Why?”
I step close to her again, crowding her a little now, and pull her close against me. “Because. When you get close to coming you say ‘Oh my God, oh my God’ over and over again. So hearing you say it now makes me think of that, and it’s getting me all turned on again.”
Her lips part, and I bend my head to kiss her again, lingering this time, slipping my tongue between her lips, but I make myself pull back, keeping in mind the fact that Ben’s home. Round two will have to wait.
“Get dressed, Gabby. Ben’s a good guy. He won’t make you feel bad.”
Her eyes are hopeful and trusting when she looks up at me. “Promise?”
I nod. “And if he does, I’ll punch him in face, okay?”
She giggles. “Okay. But not the face. You’ll hurt your hand as much or more than his face, and then you wouldn’t be able to play.” She steps out of my arms, and I let her, watching her glance around for her jeans, taking off her shirt to put her bra back on.
I like having her here in my space, looking comfortable and freshly fucked. I want more of this for the long term. With her. It’s been a while since I wanted any kind of relationship. But with Gabby, the thought of this ending already has my gut clenching.
I push that aside for now. May is months away. We might not even last that long. And if we do, we can figure out whatever needs to happen next when it’s closer to being an issue. Right now it’s September, and I’m going to enjoy this ride for as long as it lasts.
She shoots me a little smile as she runs her hands through her hair, trying to smooth it out and make herself look presentable. Her eyes scan over my shirtless chest, and I feel suddenly self-conscious. She said she was a fan when she was younger. Did she have those posters? The ones with me in a Speedo, flexing my abs, water running down the grooves?
I’d been a skinny teenager, barely able to put on weight to keep up with my height. But our publicist decided to push me as the sex symbol since I was the oldest. She’d set me up with a trainer and a nutritionist, and even though I hadn’t gained a lot of weight, I managed to put on muscle and, combined with my already low body fat at the time, I had definition for miles.
But now? I’ve been out of the spotlight for years. I still work out, because it became a stress reliever and a refuge during all the craziness when Brash had its fifteen minutes of fame. And I still use it for that now, except the stress is from school and family more than public pressure, appearances, concerts, and recording schedules. While I keep in shape, I’m not strict with my diet, so the definition isn’t there. I’ve put on weight, actually filling out my six-foot-one frame instead of looking like a muscled string bean. My stomach is flat, but I don’t have a six pack anymore.
Is Gabby disappointed? Did she expect me to still be chiseled and ripped like I was as a teenager?
What she says next isn’t reassuring. “Aren’t you going to put on a shirt?”
I rub my hand over my chest and down my stomach, lifting an eyebrow at her. “You don’t like what you see?”
That pinkness returns to her cheeks again, and she licks her lips as her eyes follow the movement of my hand. “Th-that’s not what I mean.” Good. “I just—if we’re going to talk to Ben, don’t you think you should get dressed?”
Ben won’t care if I don’t have a shirt on, but whatever. “Will you feel better if we’re both dressed?” At her nod, I swipe my shirt off the floor and pull it on. “Ready?”
She takes my offered hand before I open the door. We find Ben in the living room looking at some papers spread over the coffee table.
He blinks at me, adjusting his glasses, still wearing the faded army-green blazer he wears as a jacket when it’s not raining. “Hey, Jon. I didn’t realize your, uh, guest would still be here.”
I pull Gabby forward, positioning her in front of me. “Ben, this is Gabby. Gabby, this is Ben.”
Ben stands, shooting me an amused look over her head, but schools his expression at my glare. He offers Gabby his hand. “Nice to meet you at last. Jon’s talked about you, but always kicks me out before you come over. I assume now that we’ve met, I’ll be seeing you more often?”
He directs the last question at her, but his dark eyes meet mine as he drops her hand. Gabby looks between us, clearly unsure about the dynamic at play here.
I clear my throat. “Yes. Gabby’ll be around as much as Beth. Maybe more, since you spend most of your time together at her place.”
Ben nods. “Cool.” Then to Gabby. “Beth’s my girlfriend. Just so you’re clear, this jackass,” he points at me, “is telling me you’re his girlfriend now. You cool with that?”
Glancing between Ben and me again, Gabby’s mouth opens and her brows come down, but she doesn’t say anything.
I lean close to her. “Ignore him. He just likes to stir up shit.”
Ben holds up his hands, palms out, a smirk on his face. Gabby still looks unsure, but she tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at Ben again. “Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you.”
Ben grins. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, anyone need coffee? Tea? Water?”
Gabby glances at me over her shoulder again. “Um, water would be nice. Thank you.”
I step around her and punch Ben in the shoulder when he gives me a knowing smirk. “Shut up, dude,” I murmur when I’m close to him, following him into the kitchen.
He gives me a look of feigned innocence. “I’m not doing anything other than offering your new girlfriend a glass of water—which, by the way, is a surprising development. Since you hadn’t introduced us, I figured she was just the latest flavor of the week.” Cutting his eyes to the doorway to the living room, he leans in closer, his eyebrows raised. “So we’re clear, she’s a freshman, right?”
“Right.”
“Eighteen.”
“Yeah. Freshmen usually are. Until their birthdays.”
He snorts. “And you’re graduating in May and going back to California.”
“What’s your point, Ben?”
He shakes his head. “Just making sure I’ve got it all clear. You wanna date her, that’s your business, man. But she’s just a baby, so maybe dial back the intensity, okay?”
I stop, a glass of water in each hand, ready to go back to Gabby. “What are you talking about?”
He sighs and turns to face me head on, his arms crossed. “Dude. You’re the most intense guy I know. Mostly it’s a good thing. You’re very focused, and you get shit done. But in relationships, sometimes you come on too strong when you find a girl you like. And, let’s be honest. It’s been, what? Almost a year since you’ve been with a girl that was more than a friend with benefits?” He glances over his shoulder again. “She’s young. And shy.” I snort at the idea of Gabby being shy, but Ben ignores me.
When I open my mouth to answer, he holds up his hands and shakes his head. “We can talk more later if you want. I’m just sayin’, if you want to make it work with her, don’t wrap her up in your cocoon and not let her come up for air. It’s too much, especially for someone like her. And she’s just a freshman. She needs to figure out what she wants to do with herself, y’know?”
I nod, wanting to push back against a lot of what he’s saying. Gabby’s more mature than he’s giving her credit for. I told him about her some. But he doesn’t know how passionate she is about her music, how focused. How I get that better than most people. But there’s not time to argue about that, not with her waiting in the next room, and he probably wouldn’t listen anyway. He’d just give me that knowing look he gets when he thinks he knows better than me, and nod and say, “Okay, sure. If you say so.” Which is Ben’s way of saying, “I don’t want to argue with you, but I’m right and you’re wrong, and you’ll figure it out soon enough when your life blows up in your face.”
Instead, I bring Gabby her glass of water.
Ben follows me in and sits in the arm chair adjacent to the couch. “So, kids, any other plans today?”
I look at him, brows raised. “Why? You wanna double date or something?”
He cocks his head to the side, his fingernails rasping against the stubble along his jaw. “Hmm. There’s an idea. But Beth has a big paper due tomorrow, so I’m on my own tonight.”
“Yeah. You really are. I was planning on taking Gabby out to dinner.”
She glances at Ben, whose face is a picture of neutrality, then back at me. “Um, yeah. Dinner sounds good. I can’t stay out too late, though. I have theory homework and an eight o’clock class.”
Ben lets out a groan of pain. “Eight o’clocks are the worst. Didn’t anyone warn you?”
With a smirk, she turns to him. “Oh, yeah. My brother called me when I was getting ready to register for classes and gave me all the tips. But music majors have eight o’clock theory classes every day for the first two years. It’s the only time it’s offered. So I don’t have a choice.”
“That’s rough.”
She nods. “Tell me about it. My theory professor has us call our friends if they’re getting too close to missing too many classes.”
He chuckles. “Seriously? That’s nice. Most professors wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah. We all call her Mama Williams because of things like that. She looks out for the freshmen. Our Sight Singing professor doesn’t do that, though. He almost seems like he’s just waiting to drop you for missing too many classes.”
Ben glances at me before looking back at her. “That’s quite the contrast. Well, it was nice to meet you, Gabby. I look forward to seeing you around again.”
I stand, and she looks up at me before standing too. “Yeah. It was nice to meet you too. See you.”
“Later, Ben,” I toss over my shoulder, relieved to lead Gabby out the door. Ben’s my friend and all, but I’m not ready to share Gabby’s attention with anyone yet. I push aside Ben’s warning about being too intense. This isn’t me being intense. It’s just a date in reverse order.
We had dessert first.