9. Gabriel
Chapter Nine
GAbrIEL
The feel of Nora pressed against me, warm and soft, and her tongue teasing with mine was a deep dive into sensation—fierce and undiluted pleasure. My senses were awash in her, and I drank her in like a starving man.
She moaned into our kiss, her fingers digging into the corded muscles along my spine when she pressed closer. I forced myself to gentle our kiss. Not because I wanted to. No, it was the opposite, in fact. But I needed to get it right with us this time.
It would be easy, so easy and so exquisitely tempting to let the desire that burned like an out-of-control brush fire between us take over. I knew how to give Nora what she wanted. I knew it thoroughly.
But letting that physical expression be what bound us together was what had led me in the wrong direction the first time with us.
I gave a last glide of my tongue against hers before I pulled back, catching her bottom lip with my teeth lightly before releasing it.
I cupped her cheek with my palm, letting my forehead fall to hers.
“I miss you, Nora.” My lips moved against hers with every single word.
She made an inarticulate sound and then said, “I miss you too.”
I clung to my control and forced my head to lift. I couldn’t quite bring myself to step away fully yet. Her eyes blinked up at me, and I saw the vulnerability and uncertainty flickering there.
I hated myself for feeding into the doubts that I knew were woven deeply into her heart. I understood far too well why she had a hard time trusting others. The details were different, but her father had let her down time and again, just as my mother had let me down.
My heart twisted sharply as if I’d scored it with a knife, the blade jagged and dull.
I’d done it myself—hurting her and hurting my own self.
I thought I could never commit, and I’d thought she understood.
She had at first. Then it got complicated because I’d been too stupid to realize I couldn’t order my heart around the way I could the rest of my life.
“How do you know you love me?” Her voice was husky and throaty.
Her question felt like a punch to my gut. Not because she was trying to hurt me, but because it was so pointy, like a lance.
She had every right to ask me that. Hell, I’d told her I could never be serious. I’d even tried to argue the point and insist we could carry on as we had been. Friends with benefits. Friends who were special. I’d fucking said that. God, I’d been so fucking stupid.
“I don’t know how I know. I just do,” I said.
She blinked those liquid brown eyes, and I felt her take a breath. “I’m not going to be stupid again.”
“What do you mean?” My heart was thudding in an unsteady, reckless beat.
“I fell for you, and I knew better. I don’t want to get hurt again. I think maybe you think you love me because you miss me. But you miss what we had. Don’t get me wrong, I know we have chemistry, and I know it’s good with us. But good sex doesn’t make for a good relationship.”
“This isn’t just about sex for me,” I insisted.
I meant it, but I didn’t know how to fight this fight with her.
Because I’d never been in love. I was completely inexperienced and frankly stupid about love.
The evidence of my foolishness hovered in the air around us, crossing like shadows over the sun in Nora’s gaze.
Doubts were emblazoned on her heart, and I’d put them there.
I smoothed her hair back, savoring the silky slide of it through my fingers. Every touch was something I was desperate for. “Give us a chance. Give me a chance.”
“What happens next time? You were pretty clear about how you felt.” Her lips twisted then, and I saw the pain flash in her eyes. I wished I had a million bandages to heal the wounds I’d created.
“It won’t happen again.”
She regarded me quietly. “I need to think.”
“Okay. While you’re thinking, I’ll be waiting. Can we maybe have a truce in the meantime?”
“A truce?”
I felt my lips tugging at the corners. “One where you actually speak to me.”
I saw the smile lurking in the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t let it unfurl. “Okay. I’ll stop giving you the silent treatment.”
“Next time you need help with something, call me first.”
Her nose wrinkled as she eyed me. “I didn’t need help.”
“Clearly, you did.”
She finally laughed. “Okay, I did.”
“I know you hate asking for help. You’re the tomboy-est of the tomboys.”
I couldn’t resist smoothing a hand over her hair again as she looked up at me. “Not always.”
“I know.” My chest actually ached, and my eyes burned a little.
I wasn’t prone to crying. Yet Nora, only Nora, brought emotion to the surface swiftly like this.
Ever since I’d cut her off at the pass when she told me her feelings were more than just friends, whatever I’d buried deep inside after being abandoned by my mother and watching her flit in and out of our lives had roared to life. I couldn’t tamp it down anymore.
Nora took a shaky breath, her grip finally easing as she shimmied out from between me and the counter, curling her arms around her waist tightly. “What are you doing this afternoon?” she asked.
“Helping you get the dryer hooked up,” I prompted.
Her lips pressed in a tight line, and then she let loose a low laugh. “That would be nice.”