A One-Time Thing

29. Rowan

CHAPTER 29

ROWAN

A fter driving back to my house, Gil steered us both toward the bathroom, where we cleaned up and made ourselves presentable. A shower was probably a better idea, but I think Gil worried that I was at the limit of time I was willing to be away from Fisher.

I tried not to let myself think of the worst case scenario, but the thought of what could have happened to him still had me shaking. Gil gathered me into his arms from behind and kissed my neck.

“You okay?”

Yes and no. Gil loved me. My kid had gotten into an accident, wrecked his bike, lost an earbud, and broke his arm. But Gil loved me.

“It’s been a long day.”

He kissed my neck again, then pulled away. Reaching into a drawer, he grabbed a new toothbrush, still in the package and gave me a smile. “Okay, let’s go check on the kid.”

Gil tugged me out of his house and down the driveway to where my car was parked.

“Where’s his bike?”

Gil shot me a look. “I brought it home and put it in the garage. Did you want to look at it?”

His brow furrowed in a way that suggested to me that maybe I didn’t want to see it. At least not just yet.

“Not tonight.” I needed to prepare myself to see what became of the bike. To see what could have become of my kid. Currently, I felt too fragile. Stretched too thin to handle seeing the twisted, broken, frame.

Gil drove me home and I didn’t mind letting him. Usually when crises happened in my life, it was all on me to navigate them. It was all on me to look after Fisher, and myself, and everything else. But now, I had Gil.

We got out of the car and I looked at the house that had started to feel a lot more like home with Gil standing next to me, holding my hand again.

“Did I thank you for today? For looking for Fisher. For coming with me? For everything.”

“You don’t need to,” Gil said, but he pulled me closer and dusted a kiss against my lips.

“Being in the hospital was rough for you, wasn’t it?” I turned to him and traced the tip of my finger down his scar.

“It’s not my favorite place to be, no.”

“Thank you.”

Gil smirked at me, then motioned to the front door. “Let’s go see how he’s holding up.”

Fisher had left the door unlocked and I walked inside to find him stretched out on the couch, his arm pillowed on his chest. Now that he was sleeping, he looked so much younger. Nothing had prepared me for today. For seeing him in that hospital bed, small and pale and sad.

“I don’t want to move him,” I whispered to Gil.

“Would he be more comfortable in his room?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it makes a difference.” Grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, I pulled it down over my son.

I didn’t think we’d been gone all that long, but Fisher had microwaved himself something to eat and drank a glass of milk. I took his dirty dishes to the kitchen.

“You’ve done a lot of work to this place.”

Putting the dishes in the sink, I rinsed out the milk glass. “You’re familiar with the house?”

“Not as such, but it fell into disrepair over the years and when it went up for sale, I took a look at the listing. You’ve been busy.”

“Did you want the tour?” I asked him.

“Tonight you can show me your room. Tomorrow you can show me the rest.”

I stopped only to get a couple of waters from the fridge before leading Gil down the hall to my room. I’d finished most of the renovations in here. The original flooring was hardwood, and though it was worn in places, I’d covered those with area rugs. I’d painted the walls a blue that was more blueberry than navy and changed out the light fixtures.

The bedding was still rumpled from last night when I’d done more tossing and turning than sleeping.

I was keenly aware of the way Gil surveyed my room. The overflowing laundry basket and messy bed. The stack of books on my nightstand. The bottle of lube I’d forgotten to put away.

My gaze slid to Gil and I watched him examine my space. It felt good having him in here, especially knowing that he was going to stay awhile. At least long enough that he needed a toothbrush.

“My bathroom is through here.”

“You’ve done a lot.” Gil sounded impressed.

“When I was a kid, my grandpa was a handyman. I spent summers working with him until he passed. A lot of the knowledge stuck.”

“You continue to surprise me.” Gil buried his face in the curve of my neck and was kissing me there when my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I’d intended to turn it off and ignore the world, but I saw Eric’s name on the screen.

“Sorry, it’s my best friend. I’ll be quick.”

Gil leaned against the sink. “Take your time.”

“Eric, Can I?—”

“What happened to Fisher?”

“What? He broke his arm, but he’s fine. How do you even know?” I reached for Gil and put my hand on his arm. He surprised me by taking my hand and brushing a kiss across the back of it.

“He posted a story to his social media. Just his arm in a cast and the caption ‘vibes.’”

I exhaled a sigh, the weight of the past few hours threatening to take me to my knees. Gil must have sensed it because he pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. Was it just the emotional rollercoaster of the day that made him continually reach for me, or was that how it was going to be between us going forward. I could definitely get used to it.

“Rowan. Rowan.” Eric’s voice came through my stupor and I winced.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day. Fisher’s fine. The break was nice and clean and it should heal up with no problems.”

“Yeah, but how are you? What happened?”

“He wiped out on his bike. Broke his arm, scratched his face up pretty good, but he’s fine otherwise.” I quelled the urge to go check on him, if only because I didn’t think I could make it all the way to the living room under my own steam. The adrenaline had me feeling weak and woozy and ready for bed.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. I’ve been better, but I’m okay. Fisher’s fine, that’s what matters. Listen, Eric, it’s been a long day. I’ll call you tomorrow and fill you in on everything okay?”

“You better. Tell Fisher that I’ll be out to visit before that cast comes off and I expect him to save me a space to sign it.”

“I will. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“You better,” Eric repeated as I ended the call. I turned my phone off and set it aside.

“I’m so tired.” I leaned my body against Gil’s, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Too tired to shower with me?” Gil skimmed his hands down my back and cupped my ass.

“Come to think of it, I do have enough energy to shower.” I started to reach for my shirt, but Gil batted my hands away and took it off me. He flicked the button of my pants open and dragged them down, bending to help me take them off. On one knee, he paused and looked up at me, then leaned in and brushed a kiss against my hip.

“You’re obsessed with that bit of me.”

Gil dragged his fingers over my skin. “You have a cluster of freckles here. They’re worth obsessing over.”

He was on his feet in the next moment, caging me against the wall, my naked body pressed against his fully clothed one. Gil brushed his knuckles against my cheek, then tucked his fingers under my chin and tilted my head back.

If I hadn’t already known that he loved me, the kiss would have clued me in. Gil kissed me like I was something precious. Something worth kissing. Someone he wanted to keep kissing. It was gentle, but behind the softness, there was an intensity that stole my breath.

He pulled away, leaving me feeling bereft.

“Start the shower, Rowan.”

Goosebumps crawled up my arms. I did as I was told and adjusted the temperature before stepping in. I let the spray hit my chest before closing my eyes and moving forward to let it wash over my face. I held my breath for a few seconds, then turned and sucked in a deep inhale.

Gil stepped into the shower. Reaching for me, he pulled me in, gathered me close. Kissed me like it was a competition and he needed to come in first place. If I thought I was too tired to for sex, my dick had other ideas.

I let Gil crowd me against the wall. Let him devour me. I clung to him and fell deeper in love with him. I’d never stood a chance against this man. Not from that first moment in his garage when he’d won over Fisher with his patience. Or from that first kiss. Or the second. Maybe it was that all my fumbling and bumbling never seemed to diminish his opinion of me.

Maybe it was destiny.

Maybe it was just him.

When Gil wrapped his hand around our cocks, a sound tore out of me, echoing off the bathroom walls.

He reached up, covering my mouth with his other hand before giving me a heated look. His dark hair plastered down against his skin, save for the shock of white at the top of his scar.

“Quiet, Rowan.”

He didn’t have to tell me why.

I whimpered into the palm of his hand as he continued to jerk us off together. My hands had a mind of their own and I gently dragged my fingertips through the white strands, then down the contour of his face.

When I whimpered again, it was because my orgasm built, and built, until I thought I’d die if I didn’t come.

Gil broke first, his release slamming into him. He pulled his hand away from my mouth and replaced it with his own, muffling his cries against my lips. I took them. Consumed them. And then I was coming too, moaning and writhing as he continued to stroke my cock. He kept going until I laughed and twisted my hips to try and escape him.

“Stop. I can’t take anymore.”

Gil rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. For the next few minutes, we stayed like that. Existing in a bubble of steam and post-sex haze. Then I kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Take me to bed, Gil.”

“I don’t think I have a third one in me.” He smirked and leaned in close, stealing a kiss of his own. “Yet.”