4. Gabriel #2
I can feel Noah’s assessing gaze on my back as I get to chopping the veggies, but I ignore it. “They’re getting worse, aren’t they?” He finally speaks up but keeps his voice low so that Ronnie won’t hear even if she’s down the hall.
Noah is the only one outside of the numerous therapists I’ve had that knows about my bedtime terrors.
Well, there’s also that one chick that we paid off to keep her mouth shut.
She happened to witness one of my episodes when I had knocked out in bed with them after hours of crazy sex.
It’s been years now, and I’ve never heard anything about it, so I’m glad to know she kept it to herself.
“Yup.” I chop down harder on the broccoli.
“Maybe you could try seeing someone new to help,” he says after a beat.
“You think I haven’t already tried? I’ve seen the best of the best, and none work.
” I drop the knife on the counter, already irritated with this conversation.
“Look, I’m sorry that it interrupts your night.
I’ll get a handle on it.” He never really comments on it, but I’m not an idiot.
I know he must hear me through the walls during the night.
“Gabe. It’s not about me. I don’t give a fuck about the noise you make. It’s for your fucking sanity. You can’t keep going through this every other night. It’s not healthy mentally or emotionally. I’m just looking out for you, bro.”
I look down at the cutting board in front of me, both hands now fisting the edge of the counter on either side. “I know. I’ll look into a new therapist later today.”
He nods his head slowly, then raps his knuckles on the counter. “Good, you deserve a fucking night of peace after all the shit you’ve been through.” He steps away and turns his back to me, heading for the elevator. “I’m going for a run. Save me a plate.”
“You know I always do, honey!” I shout jokingly, even if it’s true.
VERONICA
Originally, I really did think he had some crazy chick in his bed last night; the claw marks in his ripped sheets were no joke.
But now that I’m seeing the rest of the mess created, I’m not sure what to think.
I’ve had some crazy wild sex, but never have I gotten the bed this wet.
It’s as if he took a bucket of water and dumped it over the mattress, then slept in it.
Maybe he’s into some weird, kinky shit… I’ll have to ask Emma. Wait, no. What the hell am I saying? I don’t want to know or care what Gabe is like in bed. I have zero intentions of going there. Nope. Na-uh. Never.
Once I’ve started the first load of wash, I walk around the penthouse, taking note of everything I still need to do and things I may have missed yesterday.
I attack the home gym first since it’s clearly been used in the last twenty-four hours.
Weights, empty water bottles, and towels lie around the matted floor.
Jesus, is it so fucking hard to put something back where it belongs or in the trash? These boys seriously need a reality check, and I’m not afraid to give it to them.
Since the office and library don’t seem to be rooms they use very often, and I had already passed through them yesterday, I move on to the spare bathroom on the lower level.
An hour later, I’m back in the laundry room, starting a second wash and rearranging the cleaning supplies that are hidden behind a wall of cabinets.
I’m on all fours, placing products at the back of the cubicle, when the hairs on the back of my neck rise to attention, a sudden sense of being watched washes over me.
I look over my shoulder slowly and find Gabe leaning against the door frame, ankles and arms crossed with a sexy, annoying grin along his lips.
“Damn, Vixen. You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you bent over like that. Plus, at this angle I can practically see that beautiful…” My eyes turn to slits the more he talks, my irritation showing more and more. He clears his throat. “Right. Sorry.”
“Can I help you with something? Or are you just going to stand there all day, staring at my ass like some horny teenager?” I lean back onto my calves, blocking the view of my ass he must have been getting, given the length of my skirt.
I should probably start wearing pants if I’m going to be working around these two.
“Actually, yes. I was coming to get you. I have something for you.” He walks up to me and stretches out a hand for me to take.
I growl. “I swear to God, Gabe. If this is your attempt to bring me to your room and whip out your penis. I will stab you.”
He laughs. “I promise it’s nothing like that. Noah already warned me to be on my best behavior.”
“Sure, that’s why you’re still making sexual jokes every two seconds,” I deadpan.
“I can’t help it when I see you.” He beams like he just gave me a compliment. I guess he kind of did.
I sigh and plop my hand in his, letting him help me up. I expect him to let go once I’m back on two feet, but instead, he pulls me out of the room, dragging me down the hall. Normally, I would protest or snatch my hand from his, but I’m slowly getting used to Gabe’s antics.
My phone vibrates just below my ribcage inside my waistband. This high-waisted skirt didn’t have any pockets, so I had to get creative. I pull it out, and a little too distracted by Gabriel’s pull, I click into the new message.
My heeled feet come to a halt, a lump forming in my throat as the sudden feeling of suffocation takes over. I can hear my pulse beating frantically in my ears as I try to swallow the vomit quickly rising.
One text. One single text can send me spiraling. His others weren’t harmful, just simple threats with no real harm, but this one is different.
Unknown
You can’t hide from me forever, Veronica.
He attached it with an apple and skyscraper emojis. Oh, God. He knows where I am… I begin to hyperventilate, the tightness in my chest getting stronger and stronger.
“Ronnie? What’s wrong?” Gabe’s voice filters through my panic attack, but not enough to fully pull me out.
It isn’t until he lets go of my hand, that was now clawing into his, and steps in front of me. He places both his hands on my cheeks and forces me to look into his gray eyes that hold a tiny speck of blue in each iris. “Vixen, you’re okay. Just breathe,” he reassures me with a soft voice.
Finally, something in me snaps, and I jolt out of my shocked state. I take a step away from Gabe, his hands dropping from my face. I blink a few times and take a deep, shaky breath, then plaster a smile on my face.
“I’m fine. Sorry, just got a little winded. All good. Probably from lack of nutrition mixed with chemical fumes.” I fake a giggle as I tuck my phone away.
I know he doesn’t buy a single word I said; his face says it all, but I can’t have him asking questions.
Eventually, he gives me that same fake smile. Although his looks way brighter and more realistic. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I came to get you when I did.” He reaches out and takes my hand once more, resuming his pace down the hall.
He brings me into the kitchen and pulls out a bar stool by the island. “Sit,” he instructs.
I don’t fight him on it like I normally would. I lack the energy for it and I’m still feeling a bit dazed. He puts a plate down in front of me and smiles from behind the counter.
“What is this?” I point down at it.
“Broccoli and cheese frittata. And an egg, sausage, avocado, and cheese breakfast burrito.” He beams with pride.
I’m kind of impressed; this all looks and smells amazing. “You cooked this for me?”
He chuckles and cups the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah. Well, I always cook around here. Earlier you mentioned you had coffee, but nothing about breakfast. And since you were here early, I thought you might get hungry. So, I made you a plate.”
He seems nervous. Gabe is never nervous. This is weird. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit touched by the gesture.
“I didn’t know you could cook.” He frowns at my comment. “Sorry, I just always assumed you were the ‘eat out or takeout’ kind of guy. Maybe even a chef making all your meals.”
“Gabe’s dishes are practically his babies.
Plus, he’s kind of a health nut. Gets mad at me every time I eat something remotely unhealthy.
” Noah arrives behind us, all sweaty as he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe his face, showcasing perfectly chiseled, slightly tanned abs.
Ugh, this would be so much easier if these boys weren’t so gorgeous.
I look away and turn back to Gabe, who seems to disagree with Noah’s statement. “That is not true. I’m not a total health nut. I do occasionally indulge in a burger and fries, or even pizza.”
“You mean the indulgence you have every last Friday of the month?” Noah snickers, then looks at me. “And it’s only for one meal, not the whole day.”
My mouth opens wide in shock, while Gabe glares at Noah. Who the hell only eats something unhealthy for one meal throughout the whole month?
“Will you just shut up and eat?” Gabe says with annoyance toward Noah.