82. Riley
EIGHTY-TWO
”Really?”I cock an eyebrow. ”I”m not so sure if he”s different with me. That hurts to say, because no one wants to be average, but I”m pretty average.”
Catherine stares at me, her face as impenetrable as stone. Then she breaks out into a grin. ”How can you say that? I”m certain about how he feels.”
Probably I shouldn”t ask more questions. Shouldn”t make it seem like I”m eager for an explanation. Shouldn”t want more.
But I do.
”What do you mean? Explain.” I top off her champagne glass.
”Well, for starters,” she takes a big sip, ”The way he was worried about you when you were in the hospital. He called me the night you were admitted.”
”He did?” This is news to me.
”Yep. He called me first thing the morning after you were admitted.”
I frown. ”Where was I?”
”He said you were sleeping. He sounded so concerned, Riley. His voice was shaky. It was like he was going out of his mind. Said he hated to leave you for a meeting, and wouldn”t have, but the whole restaurant shooting had happened.”
”Hm.” I”m still not convinced. ”I”m very different from Gabriel. We live different lifestyles, he came from a rich background and I didn”t...”
”I think the bigger question is, why are you so insecure? Why do you have a difficult time believing Gabriel would care for you immensely? How long have you been dating?”
”Several months,” I hedge.
”Do you think you have a future with him?”
Being asked this question throws me off. I shrug. ”Hopefully. But I think he”ll get bored of me.”
”Trust me, if Gabriel was bored, you”d have known about it in, oh, the first week or two. Don”t let your insecurity get in the way of a good thing.”
”I”m not insecure,” I immediately shot back.
This earns me a head tilt and a smirk. ”No? Then why do we keep dancing around this subject every time we talk?”
My mouth hangs open until I finally huff out a laugh. Catherine giggles. ”You have nothing to be insecure about.”
”Nothing like being blunt, Catherine,” I jokingly grumble.
”Look, I”m happy to talk about Gabriel any time. Not just because he was my painting muse or because we”ve known each other for years. He”s my friend. And I hope you”re my friend. But I don”t want to hear you tear yourself down, okay? It”s not fair to you. I don”t let my friends treat themselves like trash.”
I growl hmmmm and fall silent. We lapse into watching some reality TV, joking and commenting on the obvious fakeness of the program. Cath is quite funny and her humor is sharp, biting even. I admire that about her.
She”s lying on one side of the giant console sofa, and I”m on the other. Feeling cool and a bit sleepy, I get up to grab blankets out of a cabinet.
”You want one?” I ask Cath. ”It”s kind of chilly in here, but Gabriel”s thermostat is some app thing so I can”t control it.”
”Sure do,” she says.
I hand her one of two pink fuzzy blankets, then return to my place on the sofa.
She mumbles something about being tired as she wraps herself in the blanket like a burrito. Despite my earlier misgivings, it feels good to be with a friend, doing normal stuff like this.
But I still haven”t entirely let go of our earlier conversation. ”Why are you so patient with my questions about Gabriel? I would think they”d annoy you.” My words are slow and heavy, dripping with the champagne-induced sleep that”s claiming me.
”Because I like you. You”re good people, whether you know it or not, and I”m here to show you that you are,” she says, her voice equally drowsy-sounding. ”I need a friend, and Gabriel does too.”
After she says that, we lapse into silence, and finally, sleep comes for both of us.
My eyes peelopen at the sound of footsteps. I”m on my side, the blanket covering most of my head and face except for a little opening for my eyes. I spot Gabriel walking into the room. He pauses in the doorway to take in the scene in the living room. Before he notices I”m awake, I shut my eyes.
I want to know what he does next. Who he chooses. The sound of someone snoring echoes through the room. That has to be Cath.
Seconds later, I feel the energy around me change, and the presence of another person next to me. The blanket around my face lowers, and I open my eyes to find Gabriel kneeling on the carpet in front of me, his face just inches from mine.
”Hey,” I whisper.
”Had a bit of a party, did you?” He gently pushes my hair off my face.
It hits me that the living room is probably a mess and he”s going to know I was drinking champagne — something I probably shouldn”t do while taking medication. ”Sorry.”
He moves closer and kisses my forehead. ”There”s nothing to be sorry about. I”m glad you asked Cath over.”
I sit up while rubbing my eyes. Cath is sprawled on the other side of the console sofa, wrapped in her blanket. She”s snoring, her mouth is open, and she looks far less glamorous in sleep than in her waking hours. I crack a grin at the sight.
”We got to drinking and talking and ...” I wave my hand at the mess on the coffee table.
”It”s okay.” Gabriel stands and helps me to my feet.
At that, Catherine lets out a loud rip of a snore, then says a loud, ”hunh?” She blinks her eyes open and stares up at us. She struggles to sit up on her elbows ”Oh. Hey. Fuck, I just fell asleep. Hi Gabriel. I”ll be going now.”
”No, no, stay,” I say.
She flops back down. ”I can”t believe I”m this tired.”
”You can go to a guest room.” I look at Gabriel, who nods.
Catherine grunts in response. ”I”m so comfy here. Can I get a pillow?”
”I”ll get it,” Gabriel says, walking out.
Catherine yawns, which causes me to yawn, too. ”You sure you”re okay here on the sofa? There”s a ton of empty guest rooms.”
”This is the comfiest sofa in the world.” She snuggles back into the blanket.
Gabriel returns carrying a pillow and an extra blanket, and he hands both to Cath. ”Sorry I can”t stay up to entertain, but I”m beat, ladies. You two going to stay up for your slumber party?”
I pick up the empty champagne bottle and shake my head. ”I”ll clean up a bit then come upstairs.”
Gabriel takes the bottle from me and sets it on the table. ”The housekeeper will handle that. C”mon, blondie.”
I wave goodnight to Cath, who gives us a peace sign from her pile of blankets on the sofa, and follow Gabriel upstairs to his bedroom. I won”t lie: leaving her on the sofa in the living room while going to bed with Gabriel makes me smile inside. It”s a triumphant feeling, probably wrong since Cath has been so kind to me.
But most women are competitive with one another — or they would be in this fucked-up situation — and I”m no different.
When we reach his room, he takes my hands in both of his and kisses me softly, a gesture that says everything I wanted to hear from him in this moment. He”s here with me, not her.
That tells me everything I need to know.
His breath is warm against my lips and for a moment I forget about Catherine and focus only on Gabriel. We kiss for a few moments before drawing away from each other.
I walk over to the bed and lay down. I watch as he moves around his bedroom, every motion done deliberately, as if every step he takes is part of some secret plan being carefully orchestrated with me in mind.
He turns off the lights and then slides into bed next to me. He pulls me close until our bodies are pressed together like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly after years of searching for each other. He”s wearing only sweatpants, and the feel of my face against the bare skin of his torso is like heaven.
He lets out a pleasurable, satisfied sigh. ”I”ve been waiting for this moment all day.”
Maybe Catherine is right. Maybe I am different from all of the rest of the women Gabriel”s been with. Maybe I should stop being so insecure.
He touches my chin gently so we can look into each other”s eyes without speaking a word. He pulls back slightly and lays his head on my chest while wrapping an arm around me like a shield.
After a while, Gabriel moves his mouth to mine and kisses me tenderly. It”s as though he”s melting away all my worries with every kiss and I let myself surrender entirely.
”I can”t wait until we can have sex again,” I whisper into his ear.
He groans and cups my breast under my T-shirt. ”I can”t, either. I need you so fucking bad.”
I move my hands down his body until they stop at the waistband of his sweatpants. Without hesitation, I loosen the drawstring. Tonight, the heavy velvet curtain is open, allowing the moonlight to pour into the room. Gabriel”s face is apparent in the shadows and silver light, and he shuts his eyes and groans in pleasure as I slowly pull down the fabric to expose his rock-hard erection. He moves to take off his pants completely, but I stop him. ”Let me do it,” I whisper as I sit up and tug the waistband below his hips.
I slowly run my hands over his muscular thighs until I reach his cock. His breathing quickens and I grip it firmly, feeling how hard he is for me. He gasps when my fingers start to explore his tip, swirling a drop of precum over his shaft. I stroke him gently and increase the intensity with each passing moment.
Ever so lightly, I move my hand up and down, feeling every inch of him with my fingertips until he”s trembling beneath me.
He grabs my hair and pulls me in closer to kiss me as his breathing gets heavier. I stroke harder while watching my hand pump his cock. In the moonlight, the sight of my hand and his smooth shaft over iron-like hardness is exquisitely erotic.
”I love you, Riley,” he whispers as he reaches his climax. He comes all over his stomach and when he”s done, he”s panting.
”Fuck,” he growls. ”I”m going to have to take another shower.”
I laugh and kiss him one more time before he climbs out of bed. I lay there, listening to him hum in the shower, enjoying the calmness of the night and the contentment that comes from being with Gabriel. I”m overlooking a lot to be with him, but in moments like this — the quiet moments, the one where everything seems normal and not tinged with violence — it all makes sense.
Or perhaps I”m the deluded one.
Eventually, he comes back into the bedroom, wearing a fresh pair of boxer briefs. Even though both of us are exhausted, neither one of us is ready for this moment together to end. He crawls into bed next to me, and we cocoon in each other”s arms until sleep takes over.
Sometime later, I”m not sure when, a scream pierces the silence and wakes me so abruptly that I gasp and cry out.
I wait to hear another sound, but the house is silent. Was this some weird, antibiotic-and-champagne laced dream? Then I hear it again. It”s a guttural scream, almost otherworldly. From elsewhere in the big house, Reese”s bark adds to the din, short, sharp warnings.
The screams are coming from downstairs.
I put my hand on Gabriel”s shoulder and shake.
”Gabr—” Before his name slips out of my mouth, he”s out of bed and pulling open the nightstand drawer, reaching for a gun.