Rematch (The Reed Brothers Book 22)

13. Gabby

Iwake up to the rumble of a motor under me. Or at least I think it’s a motor until I open my eyes. It’s a snore. And a purr. A cat is resting on the back of the sofa, and another one is next to Seth’s head. They’re both purring loudly. The sounds of their running motors are almost as loud as Seth’s snoring.

Somehow, I have ended up stretched out next to him on the sofa, tucked into the crook of his arm with my head on his chest. He is stretched out along the length of the couch, and I take up the space on the inside. His arm is wrapped around me, and his hand cups my shoulder.

I wipe the edge of my mouth where I was drooling on him and look at the clock on the wall. It’s one in the morning.

Seth’s eyes open, and he lifts his head to the tiniest fraction of an inch. “Gabby,” he mutters. He smacks his lips together like his mouth is dry. “We fell asleep.”

One minute, we’d been taking his hair down, and the next, he’d fallen asleep. I’d taken down the last braid, and then I’d knocked him over so he could lie flat on the sofa. I’d planned to leave him like that, but he’d grabbed me and pulled me against him. Honestly, it had felt so good that I’d decided to stay for a minute.

I sit up. “It’s late,” I say.

I stretch one leg toward the floor, which spreads me across him. I feel his very impressive dick against my stomach as I slide across him. He grabs my hips and holds me in place. “Careful,” he warns quietly. His voice sounds like a wrung-out towel might sound if it talked.

“Sorry,” I whisper as I force myself to be still. I have one leg over him, and the other is on the other side. My chest is against his.

A small smile tips the corners of his lips. “There is nothing to be sorry for. You can wake me up any time.” He reaches up and feels for his hair, which is sticking out in tight waves that are going in every direction. “You finished my hair.”

“You fell asleep,” I remind him.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says. Heavy lids cover his eyes, and I’ve never seen him look quite so relaxed. His dick hasn’t gotten any softer. It’s a hard ridge between us. I shift again, and he holds my hips to keep me still.

“I have to go home,” I say quietly.

“Don’t go,” he says. “Or come home with me. It’s late.”

I freeze. Then I lift myself and get off him. “I can’t.”

“Why not? It’s late. We can sleep in. I’ll go run with you when we get up,” he suggests.

How many women has he had sleep over? How many this week? “I’d better not. I need to go home.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he says as he stands up next to me. His hand reaches for mine, our fingers brushing innocently. I jerk my hand away. “What’s wrong, Gabby?” he asks quietly.

I don’t know how to explain it. “I think that you and I want very different things, and I don’t think we’d be compatible long-term.”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t remember discussing our wants together.” He lets out a slow breath. “And I don’t remember talking about terms.”

“But you want me to sleep over,” I begin. Then I wince as he grimaces.

“I invited you to sleep, Gabby. Not to fuck.” He blows out another slow breath. “Jesus, this isn’t a conversation I’d planned to have tonight.” He swipes a hand down his face. “I just wanted to keep you safe. Maybe snuggle a little.” He finally grins. “But you know, if you want to fuck...” he says. He eyes me, his eyes narrowing. He waits, but it’s not a playful wait. It’s loaded with something I can’t figure out.

My heart jolts in my chest. “I don’t want to fuck.”

He wraps his pinkie around mine and gives my hand a quick jerk, so I’ll look into his eyes. “Good. Neither do I.” He grins at me. “I haven’t known you nearly long enough. I’d like to be friends first.”

I snort. “Yeah, right.”

He glares at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“Since when have you been friends with women? Just friends?”

His brow furrows. “I have plenty of women friends. Friends I don’t fuck. Friends I don’t want to fuck. Friends I will never ever fuck.” He unravels his pinkie from mine and takes a step back. “Are you a virgin, Gabby?” he asks. He tilts his head ever so slightly and stares at me. Hard.

Heat floods my cheeks. I stammer out a response. “N-no, I’m not,” I finally get out.

“Good, because neither am I,” he replies calmly, but there’s something in his gaze that I’ve never seen there before. “Neither of us is a virgin,” he says calmly. “Glad we got that out of the way.”

“I think our experience levels are probably vastly different,” I mutter.

“Are they?” he asks. “How would you know? You’ve never asked me about mine. You want to talk body counts?”

My face flames. “No, I do not want to talk body counts, and I don’t like that term. It’s demeaning.”

“It certainly is, and I don’t appreciate one bit that you’ve even brought it up.”

I take a step back, and my heart suddenly hits my throat. I can’t even speak.

“You think I’m out there giving away tickets to ride my dick, Gabby?” he asks, his voice low and quiet and booming all at once.

“No, no, I never said that,” I begin.

He stops, looks down at the floor, and takes a deep breath. “Thank you for the help with the cats. And thanks for the help with my hair. And thanks for snuggling with me for a little while. I’ll walk you home now.”

He turns and picks up my sweatshirt, which I took off right after I got here, and he holds it out to me. “Seth,” I start.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, cutting me off.

I freeze. “Yes. But I can walk by myself.”

“I can walk with you, or I can follow a few feet behind you,” he says. He walks to the door, opens it, and motions for me to precede him.

I walk past him. “Seth,” I start. I don’t even know what to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“You didn’t make me angry, Gabby,” he says. “You have absolutely one hundred percent fucking hurt my feelings. Anger has nothing to do with what I’m feeling. I’m honestly hurt, and it’s all I can do to look at you right now without wondering what the hell you were thinking.”

“Oh,” I breathe.

“I asked you to stay with me. One, because I didn’t want you to walk home in the dark. Two, because I didn’t want to go out this late at night any more than you do. Three, because I wanted to keep you near me for a little bit longer. Four, because I was hoping we might be able to snuggle a little bit. I actually like snuggling as much—if not more than—sex. I don’t get to snuggle often, and I was kind of excited about it. Forgive me for overreaching.”

He starts down the hallway, and I fall into step beside him.

“I misunderstood,” I say.

“You certainly did.”

He stops when we get in the elevator, and he turns to face me. “I’m not ready to fuck you, Gabby, because I have a feeling that when I do, you’re going to own me, heart and soul, and I’d kind of like to get to know you a little bit before that happens, you know?”

I do know.

“God, I fucked up,” I say.

He’s quiet as we descend to the ground floor. We step out together, and we walk to my apartment in silence. When we get to the door, he stops, jamming his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. He won’t even look me in the eye.

“Good night, Gabby,” he says as I open my door.

I turn back. I can’t leave it like this. But he’s halfway down the hallway by the time I turn around. I close the door, lean against it, and try to catch my breath.

How did I mess that up so badly?

The next morning,I wait at the entrance to the trail through the woods, but Seth doesn’t arrive to run with me. I end up running with my small group of joggers, but it feels wrong. Every day for the next week, I look for him everywhere. He’s not in the cafeteria, and he sits across the room in the class we share instead of next to me. At practice, he doesn’t even look in my direction.

It’s not until three days later that I see him, and when I do, my heart absolutely drops.

I see him from behind, walking down the hallway outside my apartment. He has his arm wrapped around Mimi Bishop’s waist. She’s a junior. She runs track, and she has a pixie cut and long legs. He smiles as he props her up against her doorway. He takes her purse, digs around in it, and finds her keys. He opens the door, and she goes inside. He follows.

He doesn’t even look in my direction. He goes into her apartment and closes the door behind him.

I feel like someone just slapped my face. Like someone has punched my breastbone. Like someone has stomped my pinky toe on purpose.

I go to bed and stare up at the ceiling. I can’t sleep. I can’t even think.

After an unrestful night of tossing and turning, I get up, brush my teeth, and pull my hair into a ponytail. I let myself out of my apartment so I can go for my run, but I stop short as I see someone step out of Mimi’s doorway. Seth freezes when I watch him come out. His eyes are sleepy, and he has pillow creases on his cheek.

“’Morning,” he says quietly as he walks past me.

“’Morning,” I reply.

He doesn’t stop. He barely acknowledges my existence.

Seth is done with me. And it’s all my fault.