Chapter 24 Lily
LILY
Giving Gabe additional context over text likely would have been helpful. In my defense, I had a whole paragraph typed out but then the oven beeped, signaling it was ready for me to put the brownies in. So, I got distracted.
And now I was distracted again. This time, by Gabe Nelson, who had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. This man loved showing off his forearms. It was tragic for me. Great for everyone else.
Why didn’t I step away from him earlier? What would have happened had my cats not interrupted us? I didn’t want to let my mind go there, but it was impossible not to. Would he have kissed me?
I had one more batch of brownies, and without asking, he’d stepped in and helped me stir the batter while I started cleaning up ingredients I no longer needed.
“So, I mentioned during our dinner that I hadn’t been on a date in a while, which was why I was nervous.
Then tonight I was looking at my list, and I got nervous again.
I mean, a romantic kiss under the mistletoe that takes my breath away?
How are we going to accomplish that?” My voice got way too high at my last words.
There was no denying that Gabe was handsome.
There were likely plenty of women in Milwaukee who were interested in him.
Women who were prettier, smarter, and better than me.
“With it getting so close to Christmas,” I continued, “there’s going to be mistletoe everywhere. People might force us under it.”
“People are going to force us to stand underneath mistletoe?” he asked, like the concept was hard to believe. Which, in his defense, did sound ridiculous. But I knew this town, and forcing us to stand under mistletoe (or chasing us with it) was not off the table.
“It’s very likely. Weirder things have happened in Golden Falls.”
He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed that his normally perfectly styled hair was messy tonight, as if he’d been running his fingers through it on the whole way over to my apartment. “What if we practiced?”
There was no hesitation in his voice, but I still thought I heard him wrong. “Practiced?” I asked. “Practiced what?” There was no way he meant—
“Practiced our kiss,” he said simply, setting down the mixing spoon and pouring the batter into the brownie tin. He was calm, cool, and collected—like he didn’t just suggest that we practice kissing.
My jaw dropped, and I blinked. “Um, I mean, sure. Yeah, I guess we could practice,” I stammered, my cheeks heating up.
Smooth. Real smooth, Lily. Did you forget every word in the English language all of a sudden?
I chewed on my bottom lip, one thought in particular plaguing my mind.
One that caused all the nerves in the first place. “But what if I’m bad at it?”
Gabe stopped what he was doing, set the bowl down, and gave me his full attention. “Did someone say that you were a bad kisser?” he asked roughly, but the rasp in his voice wasn’t directed at me. He seemed…frustrated, angry even, at the idea that someone would say that to me.
“No,” I clarified quickly, but then added, “but I haven’t exactly been told I’m a great kisser. Plus, it’s been a while. What if I was okay at it then but now I’m bad?”
Gabe rubbed his forehead and shook his head. “Lily, there’s no way you’re bad at it. You’re likely a fucking fantastic kisser. What morons have you been kissing who have made you think otherwise?”
I rolled my lips to hide the smile pulling at them and started to move past him to put more of the ingredients away. “So, what you’re saying is I should be kissing more—”
“No.” Gabe’s hand gently wrapped around my wrist, and he pulled me to his chest. Again, we were in nearly the same position as when we first met.
Although, this time, I saw warmth in his brown eyes instead of a cold gaze.
He likely had warmth all along…I just hadn’t noticed it at first. “What I’m saying is that we should practice. Right now, if that works for you.”
“Right now,” I repeated quietly, breathlessly. “Yes, that, uh, that works for me.”
He let go of my wrist, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I was drawn to him like a magnet. Gabe’s eyes darkened as his gaze moved to my lips. I inhaled a sharp breath, suddenly getting nervous for a whole different reason.
Gabe’s presence was overwhelming every single one of my senses. He was everywhere. He crowded more into my space, pushing my back against the edge of the kitchen counter.
“So,” I said, wetting my lips, “how does this work? Should you…pretend I’m your girlfriend or something?” I tore my gaze from his mouth but not before seeing a smirk form on his lips.
“Sure, we can do that for our practice.” He hummed low in his chest, and because we were so close, I felt the vibration. Slowly, he trailed his gaze from my eyes to my mouth to the slope of my neck.
“If I was your girlfriend,” I started, my breath hitching, “what would you do?”
“If you were my girlfriend, I’d first tell you that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about what it would be like to kiss you—since our dinner.”
This wasn’t real—this was practice. And yet, my heart lurched in my chest and heat coursed through my body.
I’d been thinking about our dinner, too.
How easy the conversation had been. How I didn’t want the night to end.
How I wanted him to come upstairs so we could keep talking and getting to know each other.
How desperately I wanted him to kiss me.
“Can I touch you?” he asked, and when I nodded, he took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between us. My hands rested on the edge of the counter, propping me up in case my legs gave out.
Gabe gradually moved his hand up, his large palm cradling the side of my face. His thumb brushed along my cheek once gently and then again while his gaze was focused on me the whole time.
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his fingers ever so slightly digging into my hair, pulling me closer.
My heart was pounding in my ears from anticipation, and it took everything in me not to wrap my fingers around his shirt and pull his mouth to mine. As if he’d read my mind, Gabe’s mouth lifted into his signature crooked half-smile.
“If you were my girlfriend,” he whispered, mouth inches from mine, “I’d find any and every opportunity to kiss you.”
His other hand went to the small of my back, large fingers splaying and anchoring me to him. The tension was so thick I could barely breathe.
After what felt like years of waiting, Gabe captured my lips. I melted into him immediately, like we’d done this a million times before. One of my hands rested on his chest while the other moved higher, my fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck.
His tongue explored my mouth, tasting and teasing with every sweep.
A low growl sounded in the back of his throat, the rumble sending vibrations throughout my body.
I’d never been kissed like this. Granted, I didn’t have a ton of kissing experience, but it was never like this.
I understood now what it meant when people said time stopped.
Like nothing else in the world mattered or even existed.
All I was focused on right now was Gabe’s mouth and how perfect it felt against mine.
How the heat of his palm seared against my lower back.
He started to pull away, but I didn’t want this to end…not yet, at least. I leaned up on my toes, my hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer, which elicited another growl from him. But it was deeper this time, lower. More desperate.
I needed to catch my breath—I needed air—but I needed him more.
As our mouths moved, Gabe’s other hand trailed from the curve of my waist up to the side of my breast, his thumb inching dangerously close. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me.
I wanted to feel his hands everywhere on my body. I wanted—
“We should stop,” Gabe panted against my mouth, his voice strained in a way I’d never heard from someone before.
Ever. He let out an exhale, his grip on my side tightening for a second before his hand dropped.
He rested his forehead against mine, and it would’ve been so easy to capture his mouth in another kiss… but I held back.
Because he was right.
“We…yeah, we should.” I could barely get the words out, and once they were out, I wasn’t sure how convincing they were. “That was…good practice.”
“It was.” He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched and the muscle in his cheek fluttered. As if he was using all of his restraint.
I slowly, reluctantly, moved my hands to my sides, using the counter to steady myself. Yes, that was practice, but it…it felt so real. Did it feel real for him, too?
After a beat, Gabe opened his eyes and stepped back, running a hand through his messy hair and tugging on the strands. “You’re”—he cleared his throat—“you’re a very good kisser, Lily. You have nothing to worry about.”
Gabe’s gaze went to the clock on the oven, and I had a feeling of what he was going to say. Before he had the chance to, I blurted, “Will you stay for a while longer? I’m making brownies, and I need to make sure they’re good. I could use a second opinion.”
His lips twitched.
“Yeah, Sunshine, I’ll stay a while longer.”
The nickname sounded different this time. Warmer. I wasn’t sure what made me happier—the nickname leaving his mouth or that he was staying.
“What do you mean you don’t have much of a sweet tooth?” I asked, appalled, my eyes bouncing between him and his plate—which was empty, by the way. For someone who claimed he didn’t have a sweet tooth, he ate his white chocolate peppermint brownie very quickly.
“I just don’t,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve always preferred savory.” But I’d seen him eating pastries at the café…and I also saw him drinking the peppermint mocha.