Chapter 7 – Alexis
7
The Do-Over
Alexis
I’VE JUST CHANGED into a pair of knit joggers and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt before getting cuddled up under my favorite blanket on the couch, when someone knocks on my door. “Ugh.” I let my head fall back against the plush cushions as the opening credits of It’s A Wonderful Life play across the television. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I thought I was finally done fielding visits from my neighbors for the day, and my brain races through the faces I’ve already seen, trying to figure out who I missed. Whoever it is, they’re going to have to deal with seeing me in my pajamas.
I love my apartment. It’s in a great location and has fantastic closet space, but the friendliness of the people on my floor is a little much.
At least I was prepared for it this year. Last year I felt like a total ass when they brought me all sorts of little gifts and I had nothing for them.
After sliding my bowl of freshly popped corn onto the coffee table, I toss the super soft plush covering to one side, trying my best to work on some semblance of a smile as I pad barefoot across the floor. I pause to grab one of the small boxes of cookies I picked up at the bakery around the corner, before unlocking the deadbolt and flinging it open, bracing for another of the overexcited Christmas greetings I’ve been dealing with all day while trying to wrap presents for tomorrow.
Instead of the expected smiling neighbor, it’s Gavin standing on my doorstep. And I nearly swallow my tongue.
His honey brown eyes hold mine for a second before dropping to the box of cookies in my hand. “Those for me?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I was planning to spend the evening watching movies while hyping myself up to face him tomorrow at Christmas breakfast, and his surprise visit has thrown me for a loop. “What are you doing here?”
He glances over a broad shoulder as one of my neighbors passes with her young sons. The older of the two boys stares up at Gavin, his eyes going wide.
“Are you The Wall?” The awe in his voice is kinda cute, but I still roll my eyes because it’s freaking Gavin he’s all slack-jawed over. If the kid knew what I know, he wouldn’t be half as impressed.
Sure, Gavin is an awesome rugby player, but he’s goofy as hell and can’t carry a tune to save his life. He almost failed home ec. because he set the school kitchen on fire and accidentally farted during my mom’s birthday dinner when I was sixteen.
Oh, and he’s a dirty dress ruiner.
Turning away from me, Gavin crouches down, getting on the little kid’s level. “I am. You watch rugby?”
The mesmerized boy nods, moving his head up and down at a breakneck speed.
Gavin lowers his voice, leaning a little closer. “You want to know a secret?”
The boy continues his bobbing nod.
Gavin tips his head my way. “Her brother is Catapult.”
My pint-sized neighbor’s adoring gaze comes to me. “Really?”
I force on a smile, even though I want to drop kick the giant man in front of me. I’m going to kill Gavin if that kid starts showing up at my door wanting to talk about my dumbass brother.
Gavin slowly straightens, coming to his feet, looking even bigger than normal next to the kids. “Really.”
“Come on, boys.” Their mother hooks an arm around each small set of shoulders, urging them to keep moving. “We’re running late for dinner at Nana’s, and I’m sure Miss Alexis and…” She pauses, brows pinching together for a second before she finishes, “ Mr. Wall , want to get on with their evening plans.”
I press my lips together to stifle a laugh, offering a wave as they make their way to the elevator. Once they’re loaded on, and well out of earshot, I’m forced to return my attention to the unexpected visitor who I’m guessing isn’t here to collect cookies or offer Christmas well wishes.
Lifting my chin, I meet his eyes, repeating my earlier question, but with a twist. “Why are you here, Mr. Wall?”
Gavin shifts on his feet, eyes moving to one side then the other before coming back to me. “Can I come in?”
I hear another door open down the hall, and don’t particularly want to deal with any more of my neighbors discovering I know the most popular rugby player in the country, so I step back and wave him in, quickly closing the door.
It’s so odd to see Gavin in my space. He was here once before—helping my dad and Leo carry in the heaviest of my furniture when I first moved in—but that was different. All my shit was in boxes and the place was nothing more than bare walls and uncovered laminate floors.
Now it’s my home. A space I’ve spent countless hours making into mine.
And he’s looking over every inch of the one-bedroom corner unit I snapped up the second it was available, his amber eyes taking in each nook and cranny like it’s the most interesting place he’s ever seen.
“So?” I try redirecting him, because I’m starting to accidentally notice a lot of nooks and crannies myself. Like the ones sculpted into his arms. The shadowed divot cutting down the center of his T-shirt, hinting at the definition of his pecs. The thick bands of thigh muscle fighting the denim of his jeans.
He pulls a familiar box from behind his back, redirecting my attention. “You forgot your scarf the other night.” Gavin takes a deep breath, the broad line of his shoulders lifting with the action. “And I want to apologize.” His gaze darkens and his voice lowers. “For what happened at the party.”
Oh.
I didn’t know how smug I felt over our little rendezvous until he ripped the rug out from under me. Thinking maybe he’d been unable to control himself around me boosted my ego and vindicated the inner dejected teenager still holding onto the past with both hands.
Lifting my chin, I try to look unbothered. “It’s fine. I figured you regretted it, so—”
“I didn’t say I regretted it.” Gavin steps closer. His voice is lower, rougher, when he says, “The only thing I regret is that you left before I could return the favor.”
I stare at him for a few seconds, trying to process exactly what’s going on here. “So, you didn’t come to apologize and tell me it was a mistake?”
“It was a mistake, Al.” His eyes drop to my lips. “I just don’t regret it.” Gavin continues coming my way, each step slow and methodical as his bulky body towers over me. “I came here to figure out a way to make things right between us.”
I almost always wear heels. People love to make stupid comments when you’re short, and adding on a few inches usually keeps that shit to a minimum. It also keeps me from feeling like I’m staring at everybody’s belly button. Which is exactly how I feel right now. While it’s annoying, it also has me wondering what Gavin’s belly button looks like. I should have taken a closer look when he whipped his shirt off the other night, instead of nearly breaking my neck running away.
Tipping my head back, I force my thoughts back in line. “Does that mean you think things are wrong between us?”
He gives me a slow nod. “It does.”
I wait for a few seconds, expecting him to elaborate. Gavin is normally very talkative. He’s the kind of guy who charms his way through every interaction with smooth words and a smile. I could use a few more of those words in this moment, because his closeness and the intensity of his gaze is making me want to think all sorts of things that I’m sure aren’t actually true. The same things I’ve been working hard not to wonder about since racing from the treehouse in his T-shirt. I’ve read too much into his actions before and felt like a freaking idiot. I’m not doing that again.
“Okay.” I swallow hard as he moves in a little more, continuing to close the tiny space that remains between us. “How do you plan to make things right?”
His body is almost brushing mine now, and every cell in my front is on edge. Bracing for contact.
“I want a do-over.” Gavin leans down, bringing his face closer to mine so our eyes align. “I’m better than what happened at the party, and I want you to know it.”
Is he offering to... Does he mean…
No. Definitely not. I’m just still that stupid girl who…
“I want to touch you again, Al.” Gavin leans closer, but this time I step back, overwhelmed at what he’s put on the table. The way it’s left no room for misunderstanding.
A second ago, his body touching mine was something that might happen. Would have been nothing more than the result of an accidental shift or single step too far.
What he’s offering now guarantees physical contact, and all those cells have gone from being on edge to fully engulfed in flames.
But that doesn’t seem to be enough for him. Like he doesn’t care I’m about to pass out, Gavin keeps going, laying out a plan of action I assumed would only happen in my dreams.
“I want to taste you.” Another step for him, and another step for me. “I want to feel you come on my tongue and around my fingers.”
This time when he steps forward, I run out of space. The backs of my legs hit the sofa, and I’m so distracted, I drop right down to my butt, bouncing against the cushions.
And Gavin just keeps coming. Leaning down, hands bracing against the back of the sofa on one side and the arm of it on the other, blocking me in. “What do you think, Al? Wanna give me a do-over?”
Do I? Hell yes, I do.
Is it a good idea? Probably not.
However…
“I’m going to be pissed if you make a mess on my couch the way you did on my dress.” It’s sort of a lie, because imagining Gavin being so hot for me he loses control again practically has me panting like a dog. “I’ll make you clean it up yourself.”
His lips slowly lift, like a predator who knows their prey is close enough to catch. “Deal.”
My fingers sink into the cushion under my ass as he leans closer. I’m starting to panic over what I might have just accidentally agreed to.
“But we can’t have sex.” Drawing a clear line makes me feel a little better about a situation I should be way more prepared to handle considering how many times I’ve thought about it the past few days. But again, I can’t let myself think whatever happens will be more than it is. This is only about evening out the universe. Leveling the field so the awkwardness between us is balanced enough to cancel itself out. “Just other stuff.”
One of Gavin’s thick brows lifts. “Sex is a really broad term, Al.”
“No putting your dick inside me.” I pause, accidentally licking my lips before I amend. “Inside my vagina.”
His nostrils flare. “But I can put it other places?”
“Not my ass.” The second qualifier pops out, and for some reason embarrasses me, sending the prickle of a blush racing across my skin.
Gavin is so close now I can feel the warmth of his breath fanning over my already hot face as he asks, “Can I put other things in your ass?”
Maybe this is a mistake. “Like what?” That wasn’t a no. Why the fuck didn’t I say no?
Gavin makes a low humming noise. “I think maybe we should table that discussion.” He pauses. “For now.”
It’s a whole discussion? How many options could there possibly be?
“Are those your only conditions?” Gavin’s lips brush along the edge of my jaw and I nearly melt into the cushions.
“I think so.” My breath stutters to a stop as his mouth teases down the side of my neck.
“If you come up with any more, all you have to do is tell me.” His lips move against my skin as he speaks in a low voice. “If you say stop, we stop.”
I’ve never had anyone lay things out quite so clearly before, and I have to admit I like it. I like knowing that, even though I’m about to become a puddle of quivering anticipation, I’m still the one in charge of this…
Interaction.
That’s all what’s happening will ever be, and I’m okay with that. As long as things don’t go all the way, it’s just us balancing the scales and scratching some itches.
And boy do I need scratching.
“Okay.” I tip my head so I can meet his eyes. “Do you have any conditions?”
Gavin holds my gaze, lids heavy over his toffee-colored eyes. Slowly he shakes his head. “No.”