As the night went on, Gavin loosened up and even found himself having fun at a party that he wasn’t technically invited to around people he wouldn’t otherwise have ever associated with. Not that he did much interacting with anyone other than Blake. Once they returned to their table and had eaten one of the best meals Gavin could remember eating in years, they’d had a few more drinks and dessert before heading home.

By the time they got back to the apartment, they could barely make it up the steps without stumbling into one another. Or maybe that was only true for Gavin. Blake seemed more accustomed to the effects of the alcohol than he did. It had been a while since Gavin had been drunk, and the fuzziness inside his head as he carefully ascended the stairs felt unfamiliar. He leaned against the wall outside the apartment as Blake unlocked the door and pushed it open. Then he gestured for her to enter because he wasn’t going to let her open the door for him and walk through it before her.

“Crashing retirement parties is fun,” he said, collapsing onto the couch. “Oooh, we should try a family reunion next. Really test our skills,” he suggested as he thought about how they’d somehow been able to carry on a conversation with strangers.

Blake laughed, but it seemed half-hearted. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she said, taking a seat next to him.

Gavin looked at her—studied the way she rubbed her fingers over her thighs like she didn’t know what to do with her hands. He also noticed the way her eyes were focused on the coffee table in front of them. He wasn’t sure if she was just a little out of it from the alcohol or the long night, but he could swear that she was avoiding eye contact with him. “You okay?” he asked.

This time she looked at him. “Yeah, fine, why?” she said casually, though when he saw her eyes, he could tell she looked anything but fine. There was a blankness to them. Like she was thinking about something far away.

He shrugged, unsure of whether to press the issue. But she’d opened up the door by asking him why he thought that, so he decided he might as well answer. “You seem…distant or something all of a sudden. Did I say something? Or do something?”

“It’s stupid,” she said.

“It’s not stupid if it upset you. Tell me so at least I’ll know not to do it again.” It reminded him of when he’d seen Blake having the nightmare, and he wondered if the two were somehow connected.

Blake was silent, and Gavin did his best not to fill it. If she were going to share whatever this was with him, she’d have to be the one to decide to do it. Finally, she sighed. But he wasn’t sure what that meant exactly until she spoke a minute or so later. “The family reunion thing,” she began. “It’s probably the one type of party I have no experience with. I could probably fake my way through a bris easier than I could a reunion. At least those have an actual focus. I mean, I know the focus is on cutting off a part of someone’s penis, but still,” she said with an awkward laugh.

Gavin remained quiet but took note of the fact that she’d made a joke during what seemed like should be a serious conversation. “Can I ask why you hate family reunions?” It wasn’t that Gavin couldn’t relate to the dread that accompanied those types of get-togethers, but he had his own reasons for disliking them. He guessed Blake did as well.

“It’s not that I hate them so much as it is I’ve never been to one.”

“Never?” Gavin couldn’t hide his surprise.

She shook her head. “My family wasn’t the reunion type, I guess.”

His eyes locked on hers, and he couldn’t identify what he saw in them. There weren’t actual tears behind them—at least none that he could make out. But there was a heaviness to them, a weight that let him know Blake had more layers to her than he could probably ever peel back. But he had to try anyway. “What type were they?”

* * *

Blake’s head was spinning, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. She could handle way more than the six shots she’d had over the course of three hours. But what she couldn’t handle was how easy it felt to share things with Gavin that she typically kept to herself. When he’d mentioned the family reunion, it had struck a nerve for her, but she couldn’t explain exactly why. She’d accepted her family situation—or lack of one—when she was a kid. It wasn’t like coming to terms with her troubled childhood was anything new. Still, sitting here with Gavin, feeling close to someone for the first time in as long as she could remember, did things to her that she’d rather not think about.

“They were…” She struggled to find a way to describe her parents that was truthful, yet didn’t reveal every last detail about them. “They weren’t around a lot,” she finally settled on. She deliberately omitted that the reason was because they were neglectful deadbeats who’d rather think about where their next fix was coming from than whether their daughter had eaten that day. “I’m not close with them.”

Gavin nodded like he understood, but she knew he didn’t. And in his defense, she hadn’t given him the opportunity to try. “I’m not too close to mine either,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Why?” She suddenly found herself hoping that Gavin’s parents were pieces of shit, too, so she could commiserate with him, but even she knew that was a horrible wish to make. She also knew that they’d wanted him to go to college, so the chance of them being complete lowlifes was slim.

“We don’t agree on…well, anything, now that I think about it.” He laughed, but Blake heard sadness in it. “What about you?”

“Same,” she said, because there was no way she could get into all of her shit right now. Or maybe ever. Her story was raw and messed up and so fucking crazy that it caused a type of pain most people hadn’t ever felt. At times, she thought she should’ve been embarrassed by her past. But she wasn’t. She never had been. Shame hadn’t ever been a factor in her decision to keep her history to herself. The opposite had been true actually. She felt a kind of pride that she’d been able to overcome such a troubling upbringing, and had somehow come out of the mess relatively free from any real damage.

Sure, she was guarded and cautious and private. But those were bandages more than they were scars—mechanisms put in place to protect her from any further pain and hopefully allow her to heal. At least that was what Shrink One, Two, and Three had told her. Even as a child, her life was like a Dr. Seuss book of psychiatric professionals. “My parents didn’t really have the time for me, let alone the time to get to know me,” she added, because not only was it the truth, she also found herself wanting Gavin to understand her a little better. And for the first time, she welcomed that connection with someone.

The realization was frightening.

She’d been looking down at the floor as she’d spoken, but something brought her eyes up to Gavin’s. “Well, that’s their loss,” he said as he cupped her cheek. “Because you’re worth knowing.”

Blake’s lips parted at his words, but it wasn’t to speak. The way he stared at her—like he wanted her, wanted the real her, had Blake feeling vulnerable. And though the emotion was a familiar one, it wasn’t how she remembered it. It wasn’t threatening or uncomfortable or complicated.

And as Gavin’s mouth pressed against hers, she found herself wanting to open up to him in more ways than one. Immediately, her body relaxed into his as he traced his fingertips over the delicate skin of her shoulder and down her arm. It was a sensation that would normally have gone unnoticed, but for some reason, she reacted to his every touch in a way that felt more than physical.

Suddenly her whole body was on fire, alive in a way that had her gasping for air like she’d forgotten how to breathe. Gavin’s mouth was everywhere—nibbling down her collarbone and over her chest as he slipped her shirt over her head in one fluid movement that almost didn’t register in her brain.

Her breaths were choppy, needy as he kissed his way down her stomach, which flexed with urgency. But she didn’t want this to feel rushed. She wanted this time to be slow and gradual, a steady climb toward a release she desperately needed. Her skin tingled at his touch as he dragged her pants down at a torturous pace. He looked amused watching her squirm, her body silently begging him for more. Then, hooking one finger under the elastic of her thong enough to graze the area that wanted him most, he rubbed gently. She could feel how wet she was, how slick and ready she must have felt on his fingertip before he finally pressed inside her enough to somehow dull the ache she felt without actually satisfying it.

He took his time there, stroking her walls with a shallow touch that had her fantasizing about getting on top of him and riding his fucking hand until she came all over it. When he removed his finger from her, the emptiness she felt was almost unbearable, but thankfully he’d only paused to remove her panties. “Too much,” she said when Gavin’s mouth found her clit and sucked hungrily on it. His movements slowed, but they were no less pleasurable, and she had to practically push his head away to keep herself from losing it.

He gave her a few kisses to the inside of her thighs before bringing himself back up so he could look at her. “I love making you feel like that, getting you so close you can barely stop yourself,” he said. “Let me make you come.”

His words weren’t as much of a plea as they were a command, and Blake knew better than to resist. As much as she liked the way Gavin teased her with his tongue and fingers, she wanted to feel his cock inside her. She was ready to combust just thinking about how good it would feel to have every subtle ridge and vein massaging deep within her, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait before she came from Gavin rubbing over her.

She thought about how wet the outside of his pants must be from the contact with her slick pussy, and she wondered if he was as ready as she was, barely able to hang on as he ground against her. “Need you inside me,” she huffed out, causing a low groan to escape Gavin’s lips.

“Say that again,” he said.

“I need you, Gavin. God…so bad…I’m gonna…” She wasn’t able to utter the last word before Gavin climbed off her, pulled his pants down, and reached for his wallet to withdraw a condom.

Gavin finished undressing—first his shirt, one button at a time, and then the rest of his clothing until he was hovering over her, all of him exposed to her. He reached up to grab his cock and slid the condom over it as he held his position above her.

“Gavin, I don’t think I’ve ever come without physical contact, but watching you do that may change that,” she said.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

He was so hard, and the tip of him was nearly purple as he stroked himself. She wanted that inside her now. “It’s not. Come here,” she said, gripping his ass and pulling him down onto her.

At first, the contact with his skin was enough, but before long she was begging for him to enter her. Thankfully, this time he complied, pressing into her gently, slowly, until he thrust so deep inside that she almost came from the force of it. Her breath hitched as he drove into her again and again, the head of his cock stroking her slick walls so rhythmically that she could hear how wet she was for him. It wouldn’t be long before she was pulsing around him, her body shuddering in ecstasy.

She dug her fingernails into Gavin’s back as she struggled to hold off, but it was a futile effort. A few more drives of his hips and she’d plummet into a place that would have her lost in sensation. Gavin moaned one of those low moans that had her feeling the vibration from his chest in hers, and when he told her to let go, she exploded around him, her walls clenching his shaft so tightly that she was sure he could feel everything inside her too.

She watched him intently as he sought his own release: his face straining with pleasure, his abs flexing as he thrust into her.

She listened to his heated groans as his body shook and he emptied into the condom. He seemed to spasm for an intensely long time, the ecstasy etched on his face. When he was finally done, his eyes opened, and they caught hers for a moment before he closed them again, this time more relaxed. “Jesus, I feel…” he said. “I don’t know what I feel.”

And neither did she.