Chapter 16 #3
“Jesus, Gabe.” Emmy had nearly stopped breathing. She moved her hand to the back of his neck and squeezed herself against
him, somehow feeling like holding him close now would erase almost losing him before she even knew him. The thought of it
terrified her. The accident that had ended her brother’s career and life had been slow and quiet. They’d been told he simply
fell asleep and stopped breathing. Gabe’s accident had been metal and broken glass, blood and snapped bones. She shook with
fear at the mere thought of it.
“Hey,” he said when he noticed her trembling. He looped his arm over her and pulled her close. “I’m okay, Emmy. I survived. And luckily, it was only me. No one else got hurt.”
“Yes, but it could have been so bad,” she said with her face pressed into the crook between his neck and shoulder.
“Well, I mean, it was pretty bad. I was in the hospital for a month. Honestly, the scariest part was when I woke up in traction and knew my career
was over.”
“Gabe, you could have died .” As soon as she said the word, she felt him stiffen. He remained tense for a few seconds, and Emmy couldn’t be sure if it
was fear from a what-if he’d surely visited many times on his own or the realization of why the thought had her nearly rigid with angst.
He softened and pressed his lips to her temple. Then he pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. “But I didn’t. I know
I’m damn lucky to be alive. And I understand why this story is hard for you to hear given the parallels to your brother.”
Emmy’s chest felt like it expanded infinitely at the same time it splintered a crack. How was it that she was tangled up in
bed with Gabe Olson already as close as they could get, and every word out of his mouth was somehow drawing her even closer?
To a level beyond simply his skin touching hers. To a place that felt like they were sharing a heartbeat.
“It is hard,” she said, knowing she didn’t need to say any more. To justify or explain or downplay how thinking about her
brother still felt like a cannonball to her chest.
He squeezed her close again. “I’m sorry,” he said as if he knew it was enough. She didn’t need to hear time will heal wounds or he is in a better place or any of the other standard fodder thrown her way. She just needed someone to understand and hold her while it hurt. Just
like he’d let her empty out all her feelings that night on the beach, he held strong now. At once a rock and a soft place
to land. It was a comfort Emmy had never known.
“Thank you for asking me,” Gabe said after a few moments.
Emmy tilted her head back from the warm cocoon of his neck. “About your accident?”
He nodded. “I’ve never really talked to anyone about this before. Well, other than my therapist. It was the scariest thing
that ever happened to me. I was happy to be alive, but I knew I’d fucked up big-time when I woke to my dad crying in the hospital.”
He huffed a dark laugh that sounded layers deep.
Emmy could tell by the pain in his voice that he held certain beliefs about what those tears had meant. “Gabe, I’m sure your
parents were relieved you were okay.”
His face pinched. “Sure, but they were also upset over the loss of the arm they’d invested my entire life in. I wrecked their
dreams—and my own—and I’ll never make up for it.” He sadly shook his head. “That’s why I feel like I have to be the best at
everything. Oddly, taking me out of the game only made me more competitive.”
Emmy ran her knuckles over his jaw that had grown deliciously scruffy and then traced his lips with her finger. “Well, you
are much more than just an arm, but I get that. That feeling of having to make up for something. It’s part of why I chase
this career, to make up for what my brother will never be able to do. He was going to go far, and my parents were so proud
of him.”
He kissed the pad of her finger still lingering against his lips. “I’m sure they’re proud of you too. In fact, I know they
are. I’ve seen it on their faces.”
“Maybe, but they don’t get it. Why this career matters so much to me. It’s part of who I am.”
“I get that,” he said with a nod. “I don’t know who I am without baseball. When I lost my career on the field, I pushed everyone
away. I disconnected from myself and stopped even trying to connect with other people.” He softly shook his head. “Now I can’t.”
He paused and looked so deeply into Emmy’s eyes the contact felt physical. His voice came out another near whisper. “Except
with you.”
Those words again. The feeling that bloomed out into Emmy’s chest felt dangerously big. It pushed against all her edges, her barriers and beliefs
about what their relationship was supposed to be, and filled her with a heady rush of possibility.
She leaned in to kiss him. Slowly and softly at first, but then with more hunger. He rolled her onto her back and pinned her
wrists up by her head while he deepened the kiss, possessively dipping his tongue into her mouth. She’d learned over the past
twentysome odd hours that Gabe Olson was a little bossy in bed, and it thrilled her. She playfully bit his lip, and he smiled
down at her.
Soon they were moving together in a slow rhythm so tender, his hips between hers, his hands in her hair, it made Emmy secretly
hope it wasn’t the last time, despite their agreement to leave things in Mexico.
They hardly made it to the farewell breakfast with everyone the next morning. Their time together slipped away too quickly,
and Emmy found herself dreading having to return to real life. She didn’t know how she could possibly go back to the way things
were, because there would now forever be a before and an after Gabe Olson. The weekend had sharply divided her life in two.
After a round of hugs and goodbyes with her family at the hotel and then another one at the airport because most of them were
on the same flights, Emmy found herself standing at the gate with Gabe and wishing she could stop time.
He stood beside her with his suitcase and wearing a backpack. He’d hooked his thumbs into the straps and looked as if he’d
done it to better keep his hands to himself. They’d been in bed together just three hours before—Emmy could still see the
kink in his hair from where she’d tugged on it one last time—but she could already feel the memory fading into a shimmering
mirage as they moved closer and closer to leaving. Their flight had already started boarding; they were down to minutes.
“What seat are you?” Gabe asked.
“14A. You?”
“28D.”
“Another aisle seat.”
“I’ve heard they’re good for the legs.”
Emmy weakly smiled at his callback to the night he’d arrived. She couldn’t summon the strength to laugh. They were one group
away from calling her boarding group. The seconds before they took off back to reality slipped through her fingers like the
stray sand still crunching in her shoes.
As the final moments dwindled, an enormous elephant stood between them. Emmy got the sense neither of them wanted to acknowledge
it for fear of labeling what the weekend had meant to them, which would make it all the harder to put it behind them.
But Gabe did it anyway.
He let out a tense breath and lightly laughed. “So, this was the best weekend of my life.”
“Gabe—”
“—and I know we had a deal: What happens here, stays here. But I’m wondering if maybe that doesn’t have to be the case.”
Emmy looked up at him with a surprising rush of hope—surprising he was suggesting it, and surprising in how sharply the idea
hooked itself into her heart. “What do you mean?”
He unhooked his hand from his backpack strap and gently reached for hers. His grip was warm and strong, and Emmy knew she
was already addicted to his touch. He brushed his thumb over her wristbone and gave her a soft, devastating smile. “I mean,
there’s no way I will be able to sit next to you every day and keep my hands to myself now that I know what you taste like.”
A stuttered breath rushed out of Emmy. Her whole body quivered. Gabe felt it, and the grin on his lips grew wider.
“Do not torture me here in public,” she warned.
“Even if I’m enjoying it?”
“Especially if you’re enjoying it.”
His face cracked into a full grin, and he laughed. He tugged her closer by the hand. She stumbled into him, awkwardly weighed
down by her tote and halfway tripping over her carry-on. But none of that mattered when she felt the warmth of him and smelled
the fresh, clean coconutty scent of the hotel still lingering on his skin. “What do you say? Want to give it a shot when we
get home?”
She was lost in his gaze, the feel of his hand that had moved to her lower back. Reality was hard to grasp through the sensory
haze, but she managed to grab hold. They worked together—not to mention, were up for the same promotion. “Gabe, how would
that work? It would be too complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
Staring at the hope on his face, the memories from the weekend doing backflips in his eyes, Emmy wondered if he was right.
Could they make it work? Could they officially cross a boundary back home where it mattered and not have it blow up in their
faces? She knew he was right on another front—she’d never be able to share an office with him, either, now that she knew what
he tasted like, the sounds he made when he came undone, if it was all behind them.
They called her boarding group, and she jerked at the harsh bite of reality.
Gabe glanced at the jetway and then cupped her cheek with his other hand. His eyes earnestly searched hers as he held her
close. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.” He pulled her into one of his full-body kisses that left her blushing and
spinning and nearly unable to walk straight as she made her way to the jetway.
She looked back at him while they scanned her ticket. He’d hooked his hands back into his backpack straps, and she knew she’d
be thinking about the little grin on his swollen lips and his suggestion they give it a shot the whole way home.