Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Gabe
“ O kay but that was a whole fucking delight. Gamora? What an absolute badass.” Molly grins at me and tosses a handful of popcorn mixed with Reese’s Pieces into her mouth.
“I know, right? I really think Guardians of the Galaxy is the unsung hero of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I can’t believe you never saw it.”
Molly shrugs and glances over at me. She looks so cute in polka dot sweatpants and an old University of Pittsburgh Law School T-shirt with a long, bright pink sweater tossed over it, her face freshly washed and her hair piled up on top of her head. I just want to snuggle her up. She’s sitting cross-legged on the couch with the bowl of popcorn in her lap, her knee pressed up against my leg.
“It didn’t feel right to watch them without you. It was our thing for so long, I didn’t want to see any of the movies alone. I thought the TV shows looked cool, but it’s the same universe, and I have a weird thing about watching and reading series in order, so I skipped those too.”
“But the last movie you saw was Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I can’t believe you lived all these years with that cliffhanger. What would Black Widow do? Where did Nick Fury go? Would Steve Rogers and Sam be able to save Buckey?”
“And yet somehow I survived.”
“Barely. It’s a good thing you’re staying here for a while. We have ten years of the MCU to catch up on.”
Molly nudges me with her knee. “Back the truck up, Gabe. I’m staying here for a night or two so I can look for a rental.”
“We’ll just see about that,” I mumble. No fucking way is she renting an apartment while her house is getting fixed when this house has six damn bedrooms.
Molly turns on the couch, propping a leg up against the cushions so she’s fully facing me. “Have you somehow forgotten that I’m a grown woman who makes her own decisions and doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do?”
I take my glasses off and stick them in the collar of my shirt. “Have you somehow forgotten that I take care of the people who are important to me?”
“God, that’s so hot,” Molly mutters.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”
She furrows her brow. “Shit, did I say that out loud?”
I chuckle. “You sure did, and now you’re going to explain.”
She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s the glasses. The way you put them on and take them off. It’s hot, Gabe. It’s really fucking hot.”
“Is it reallllly,” I drawl, sending up a prayer of thanks for all the close-up computer work I’ve done in the past ten years that fucked up my eyes enough that I need glasses for reading and TV watching. And driving. All the things, really, but I refuse to give in all the way. Not yet.
Molly rolls her eyes. “Cool down, Casanova. You know what you look like. You have mirrors.”
“Please, Rory, tell me more about how good looking I am.”
“I’m not stroking your ego.” She leans over and grabs her Diet Pepsi from the coffee table, taking a long sip. My eyes are fixed on the long, smooth column of her throat as she swallows, and it’s possible I have gone completely round the bend.
“You might not be, but I’m happy to stroke any part of you that needs stroking.”
Molly snorts out a laugh and shakes her head, then takes another sip of her soda, draining the can. “Pass.”
I smirk at her. “For now. Also, what’s the deal with the Pepsi? Is that a Pittsburgh thing? You were always a Coke person. We were always Coke people. We were such Coke people we made fun of Pepsi people.”
“Ugh, I know, isn’t it terrible? I don’t know if it’s a Pittsburgh thing, but my friends are Pepsi people, and they got me hooked years ago. Julie even has Diet Pepsi in a soda fountain in her kitchen. I feel so disloyal, but I love it, Gabe. I just freaking love it.”
I shake my head solemnly. “Does this relationship even have a chance? We’re not soda compatible anymore.”
“Aw, buck up, buttercup. I saw the excited look in your eyes when I dumped the Reese’s Pieces in this popcorn. At least we’re still snack compatible. And we’re both still night people.”
I glance at the clock on the wall and see that it’s almost two in the morning. Staying up late with Molly, talking and watching movies and taking walks and eating snacks while the rest of the world was asleep, used to be one of my favorite things. Looks like that hasn’t changed.
“I have to admit, it’s been a long time since I stayed up this late.”
Molly shakes her head. “Not me. Late at night is when I’m the most creative. It’s when I get all my best ideas about rearranging furniture and repainting my walls, and when I go searching the internet for interesting art and pieces for my house or the office while I watch my comfort shows.”
I want to ask if it’s when she dances—if she even dances at all. I didn’t see any evidence of it in her house, and I can’t help but wonder how she just left behind something that was such a huge part of her life, something she was going to make her career. She’s made it pretty clear that topic is off-limits, and I’ll respect that, but I’m so curious. I also just want to keep talking to her, so I ask another question, kind of dreading the moment she says she’s ready for bed and we retreat to separate bedrooms.
“Your comfort shows?”
“Yeah, the shows I can watch over and over again and never get tired of. There’s something kind of magical about watching them in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping. Forbidden almost. Like I’m still a kid, doing something I’m not supposed to do. You know I lived to do things I wasn’t supposed to do. Not much has really changed.”
I know she doesn’t mean it to, but the word forbidden conjures up all kinds of fantasies in my brain. The dirty kind that have all the blood in my body draining to my cock and me shifting in my seat, hoping she doesn’t notice.
I think she doesn’t because she lets out a huge yawn and stretches her arms above her head. My eyes immediately drop to the bare strip of skin visible right above the waistband of her pants when her shirt rides up and fuck. I’m really fucking gone when a one-inch strip of skin has me thinking about dark rooms and Molly moving under me and over me and my hands on every inch of her body. And suddenly bedtime doesn’t sound too terrible. I need to get the fuck off this couch before I chuck slow straight out the window.
“Ready for bed?”
Molly hesitates, like maybe she’s reluctant to leave this little late-night bubble too. “Yeah, I should probably get some sleep. I have that big client meeting tomorrow.”
“On a Sunday?”
She groans and rolls her eyes. “Yep. People who work for Harvey Randall tend to do what he asks, and in this case, he asked for a Sunday meeting because he’s leaving for a yachting vacation in the Caribbean on Monday morning.”
“Sounds like a delightful guy,” I say dryly.
“He is the opposite of that, really, but he’s my oldest and biggest client, so concessions must be made. Besides, I’m looking forward to kicking asshole Brad’s ass.”
I push up to stand and hold out a hand for Molly. “I don’t love that you have to go work with the guy who gave you bruises on your arm in the shape of his hands.”
Molly gives me a sweet smile. “Well, then, it’s lucky you have no say in my professional life and who I do and do not meet with.”
“I don’t know what it says about me that your stubborn, slightly mean side turns me on more than anything else.”
She puts her hand in mine and stands, patting my cheek. “It says you’re a man, Gabriel. A very good man, but still a man.”
“Very good, huh?” I ask, leading her toward the stairs.
“Fishing for complements?”
“From you? Always.”
She laughs as we climb the stairs together, and I try my hardest to keep my eyes off her ass. But, well, like she said, I’m just a man, and her ass is even more amazing than I remember. Then she glances over her shoulder.
“Enjoying the view?”
Busted .
“Can’t help it, Rory baby, it’s just right there.”
“Don’t apologize, Gabriel; there’s not one single inch of me that’s not spectacular.”
“Got that right,” I say, as we reach the top of the stairs. We walk down the hall, and I pause outside her room. She leans against the closed door, and I put one hand on the doorframe above her head, leaning into her space. Her pupils dilate, and she inhales sharply at my proximity. I drink up her reaction, loving how responsive she still is to me, even after all this time.
“You know it’s not just your body, right? I like every damn thing about you, Rory. Your brilliant mind and your artist’s soul and your fierce independence, and your big, beautiful heart. Ten years ago, you were the most incredible person I had ever known. But now? You are dazzling. You dazzle me, Rory. And you being here, in my space, after everything? I’ll never take that for granted. No one in the world is as lucky as I am right now, having you here with me.”
“Gabe,” Molly whispers. “Ask me a question.”
I plant my other hand on the door next to her head and lean in a little closer, repeating the question I asked her earlier tonight.
“Can I kiss you, Rory?”
This time she doesn’t answer. Instead, she leans up and lays her lips on mine. My body reacts to her immediately. To the smell of her strawberry shampoo and the way she tastes like chocolate and peanut butter and the little sigh she lets out when I tease her lips open, tangling my tongue with hers.
I wrap a hand around Molly’s neck, pushing my fingers in her hair and using my thumb to tip her chin up, taking the kiss deeper. She grips my shirt in both hands while I taste every inch of her. My other hand leaves the doorframe and drops to her hip, pulling her against me so she can feel exactly how this kiss is affecting me. I can tell the second she realizes because she moans into my mouth and the sound goes straight to my cock.
I give it another few seconds because, god, I could kiss her forever. Then I break the kiss, pressing my lips to Molly’s forehead and leaning back to look at her, enjoying the dazed expression on her face. Wishing I could take her into my room, lay her on my bed, and spend the rest of the night worshipping her body.
There’s time for that.
Now is not that time.
I really wish now was that time.
“Fuck, you can really kiss.” Molly’s voice low and just incredulous enough that I laugh.
“Did you think I forgot how?”
Molly huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s just that you’re better than I remember. And I remember quite a lot. Photographic memory, remember? It makes me…wonder what else you’d be better at.”
She gives me a wicked grin.
Shit . Step back . Say goodnight . Do not fuck her against this door .
I don’t step back. I lean in just enough so I can whisper in her ear, loving the shiver I see run through her body.
“Just you wait, Rory. I’m better at everything.”
She eyes me consideringly. “I just bet you are. Goodnight, Gabe.”
Molly kisses my cheek and reaches behind her, opening the bedroom door and stepping back so she’s inside the room.
I reach forward, cupping the side of her face and running my thumb over her bottom lip and across her jaw, holding her gaze with mine.
“Goodnight, Rory.”