“Oh my god,” I groan, sinking into the booth after taking a long drink of my frozen margarita.
“I take it it’s good?” Gabe chuckles from across the table.
“Better than I remember.” I smile, going in for another drink.
“Good. I’m glad.”
“Why aren’t you drinking one?” I question, gesturing toward his water.
“I’m on a bit of a timeout.” He shrugs, pinching his straw between his thumb and forefinger before swirling it around the glass.
“A timeout?” I practically snort out, disbelief dripping from my voice.
I hate how the question comes out, the tequila already warming my insides, making me bolder, more confident. “Since when? Pretty sure that wasn’t the case a few weeks ago.”
Even as I say it, I know for a one hundred percent certainty that the man, whose face seemed permanently on display in every magazine I opened, is not the man sitting in front of me right now.
“And you know this how?” He cocks a brow at me, not seeming the least bit offended by my crass statements.
“Oh please.” I swipe my hand through the air when he tilts his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “Trust me, I’m not stalking you,” I assure him, even though it’s only half true.
I kinda have stalked him over the last two years, but he sure as hell doesn’t need to know that.
“I keep hearing you say , but it seems less and less true the more you say it.” He smirks, clearly enjoying himself.
“It’s not my fault that your dirty laundry gets aired all over the world. If you don’t want to be stalked, perhaps you should work harder to keep yourself out of the tabloids.”
“Ah ha,” he shouts, smacking the table in triumph. “So you admit it, you have been stalking me.”
“Oh my god. That’s not what I meant.” I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks as I quickly go in for another drink.
I don’t resurface from the frozen goodness until I feel the unmistakable sting of a brain freeze working its way across my forehead.
“So tell me, did you learn anything interesting about me in all your snooping.” His laughter is contagious. I can’t even fake annoyance with how damn adorable he looks right now.
“You’re impossible.” I roll my eyes, trying like hell to fight my smile. “You rock stars are all the same, always thinking that everyone is just enamored with you.”
“Known many rock stars in your life, have ya?” he jokes.
“A few.” I shrug, acting completely unimpressed by his status, despite the fact that there’s a bodyguard sitting at the table adjacent from us reminding me just how far he’s come.
“Sure, uh huh.” He smirks at me, leaning back in the booth as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You so want me right now.”
“What?” I blanch, shaking my head like that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“You heard me. You’re totally picturing me naked right now, aren’t you?” His tongue dances over that damn lip ring, teasing and tempting me.
“I am not,” I huff, mirroring his action by crossing my arms in front of myself.
“I guess you’ve even clipped pictures out of those magazines you seem to be such a fan of. You probably have a whole photo album dedicated solely to me. You’re one of those girls, aren’t you?” He traps his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his laughter.
Without a second thought, I rear back and kick him under the table, not feeling even a little guilty when he winces in pain.
“Ouch, what the hell was that for?” Laughter bubbles from his throat.
“You know exactly what that was for.” I point my finger at him.
“Damn.” He shakes his head playfully. “You’re violent when you drink.” He leans forward, rubbing his shin. “When did that happen?”
“There’s a lot about me that’s changed.” I snip, turning my nose upward playfully, the alcohol doing wonders for my soul. “And I’m only violent when arrogant assholes try to insinuate that I give two shits about their obsessive drinking and very public sexcapades.”
I immediately wish I could take it back. Here I’m trying to dispute the fact that I’ve obsessed over him for the last two years, and yet everything I blurt out supports his case that I have in fact been obsessing.
His eyes widen and then narrow in on my face, giving me a look that says he has me pegged.
This man is so infuriating and yet knows just how to make my heart pick up speed. I’m terrified of him and yet feel completely safe at the same time. I hate him, but I love him. I want him, but I don’t. He has me torn in so many different directions, I’m not sure which way is up at this point.
****
I manage to suck down two more margaritas over the course of our dinner. The more I drink, the easier the conversation flows, and right now I need a little easy in my life.
He tells me more about his time on the road, purposely leaving out the women and drinking parts, which I’m not sure is for my benefit or for his.
By the time we exit the restaurant nearly two hours later, I’m a giggling mess. For someone who rarely drinks, three margaritas are enough to render me more than a little inebriated. I hate myself for drinking so much, for allowing my guard to slip, but when he looks at me the way he’s been looking at me all night I just can’t help myself.
I want more…
So much more.
Tonight, the last two years have been hidden behind the buzz running through my veins and the scent of Gabe’s cologne invading all my senses. It’s like no time has passed, and we’re the same people we were before everything changed.
I stumble slightly just feet from the SUV that Eddie has pulled around the front of the restaurant for us. Gabe steadies me by sliding his arm around my waist and securing me to his side.
I melt into his touch, loving the way it feels to be so close to him.
“Here.” He chuckles, leaning forward to pull the door open. “In you go.” He guides me into the backseat before sliding in next to me.
Silence envelops the interior of the large vehicle the second Eddie climbs into the driver’s seat. Gabe sits perfectly composed next to me, his gaze turned toward the window as we pull out onto the street like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m over here feeling like I’m at risk of jumping into his lap at any moment and sinking my teeth into that sexy as hell mouth of his.
Calm down, Rae. Play it cool.
“This was fun.” I sigh, dropping my head against his shoulder in an attempt to get closer to him.
It goes against every instinct I have to protect myself, to protect my son, but I just can’t stop myself. He’s like a drug I just can’t resist.
“It was,” he quietly agrees, pushing my hair away from my face as he settles in next to me.
I relax against him, loving the way his scent surrounds me, pulling me in deeper than I ever thought I would allow myself to go again.
He doesn’t speak again, and neither do I. For this one moment, this very small snippet of time, I just want to enjoy this. I don’t want to think about what happens next or all the reasons why this is a bad idea. Instead, I want to focus on all the reasons why this feels so right.
Within minutes I can feel the heaviness settle behind my eyelids. Not only am I not much of a drinker, I also don’t typically stay out this late. To say I’m tired would be the understatement of the year. The only thing that’s keeping me coherent is how alive my senses feel.
Even though my mind swirls with the need to sleep, my body feels wired. Each time Gabe touches me, an electric current singes my insides. There’s no denying the way this man still controls my body.
I blink, looking up to find his eyes locked firmly on me.
He holds my gaze for several silent moments before finally speaking.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” The back of his hand skates down my cheek, lighting a trail of fire in its path.
“No.” It’s a whisper, a word that barely makes it past my lips.
Truth is I used to feel beautiful. I used to be confident. Just another thing this man fractured when he discarded me without a second thought. It took a long time before I could look in the mirror and not see the ugly, broken girl he had left behind.
“Yes,” he reassures me, his eyes boring into mine with such intensity that I feel myself shrink slightly under his gaze.
He hovers there for what feels like forever, the sexual tension bouncing between us like a violent match of ping pong. I hold my breath, waiting for the kiss I’m convinced is about to come.
I want it, maybe more than I’ve wanted anything else before. I’ve dreamt of this kiss, of feeling his lips against mine again. I’ve thought about it so many times over the last two years that I’m almost convinced I know exactly what it will feel like when he finally closes the distance between us.
But as quickly as the moment presents itself, it evaporates just as fast. A slow exhale followed by a longing stare full of regret and the moment is broken. Flipping his gaze from mine, Gabe turns his attention back toward the window without a word.
I try to fight the disappointment that floods through me and remind myself that I shouldn’t want him to kiss me. I should be thankful that he spared me the painful reminder of something I know I can never truly have.
Just because he's here now, reminding me of all the reasons why I fell in love with him in the first place, it doesn't mean I should trust him. Before I know it, he'll be gone again.
Gabe is like a rainstorm in the middle of summer. He momentarily drowns the unbearable summer heat and offers a moment of reprieve, but once he passes the heat returns with a vengeance, leaving behind a heaviness to the air which makes it difficult to breathe normally.
****
I don’t want to wake from the dream. The one where I’m lying in Gabe’s arms, listening to the sound of each breath as it enters and exits his body, his heart beat pounding under my palm.
“Rae.” I can even hear his voice.
“Rae.” It’s closer this time.
It’s as if he’s so close that all I have to do is open my eyes, and he will be there. I fight the urge, knowing the disappointment that will follow such an incredible dream.
“Rae.” My eyes snap open, and I jerk upright, confusion washing over me.
“You okay?” I hear his soft chuckle, the vibration deep in his chest.
I flip my gaze to his face, sucking in a ragged inhale when his crisp hazel eyes hit me like a thousand-pound weight.
“Yeah.” I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the fog left over from falling asleep. “Yeah,” I repeat, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands.
“You fell asleep,” he states the obvious, his mouth pulling up in a half smile. “I didn’t want to wake you. You must have been exhausted.”
“What time is it?” Panic grips my voice. “I have to get home.” I shift in the seat without giving him a chance to answer the first question.
“You are home.” He chuckles again, gesturing out the window.
The dim porch light offers just enough that I can make out the front of my dad’s house a few feet from where the vehicle is parked. The inside is completely dark with the exception of the low glow coming from Rylee’s room where her television is on.
“And it’s just after eleven.” His voice pulls my attention back to where he’s watching me with amusement.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “About falling asleep,” I tack on. “I don’t really drink much anymore. Typically puts me right to sleep.”
“Clearly.” He chuckles. “If it wasn’t for your snoring, I would have thought you were dead. You were that out of it.”
“I do not snore.”
My objection does nothing to sooth the heat that floods my cheeks in embarrassment.
“I’m just kidding.” He nudges my leg. “Damn your fun to mess with.”
“Not funny.” I push off the seat and make for the door.
I just get it open when his hands settle on my hips and he pulls me down, somehow managing to maneuver his body so that I land directly on top of his lap.
“Where are you rushing off to?” He tightens his grip on me when I try to squirm free.
“I need to get inside,” I huff, pushing my arm against his chest.
It’s like running straight into a brick wall, I get nowhere. Turning my face toward his, I try to fight the way my heart picks up speed at his closeness.
“Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?” he teases, his lips so close to mine it would take no effort at all to close the small distance between us.
“You wish.”
It’s all I can muster. I’m disoriented and still trying to process everything that’s happened tonight. I can’t deal with this right now. If he kisses me, if I let him kiss me, I know it’s all over. There won’t be any fighting against him after that.
“You’re right.” He laughs, a deep chuckle vibrates through his body and into mine. “I do wish.” He leans forward, placing his warm lips against my cheek.
“Thank you for tonight,” he whispers, his grip on me disappearing in an instant.
I’m free.
Move, Rae. Move.
Only, I can’t.
For whatever reason, I feel more weighted down now than I did moments ago when his strong arms were holding me in place.
Pulling back, I lose myself in his gaze, in the ways his eyes pull me in and make me forget about all the reasons why I shouldn’t and focus on the one thing that I want more than anything.
I take his face in my hands and gently press my mouth to his. It’s over quicker than it begins, but it leaves my lips feeling like they’ve been singed by fire. Pulling back, I quickly slide from his lap and out of the vehicle in one fluid movement, shutting the door between us before he has a chance to say or do anything more.
With a combination of happiness, insecurity, fear, and sadness swimming in my brain, I take off toward the house, knowing that I have just opened a door I may not have the power to close.
I just don’t have it in me yet to regret it. But tomorrow—well, that will most likely be a different story entirely.