Chapter 30 GABE
GABE
I wake to warmth at my back. It takes me a few seconds to realize where I am, tucked against Noah in his bed, his arm heavy over my waist. His chest rises and falls evenly against my back, breath warm where it tickles my neck.
I smile to myself. The room is pale with early morning light.
I just lie there. Completely still. Letting the moment sink into the broken parts of me.
I can’t remember the last time I slept that well. I didn’t wake every hour with my heart racing. No nightmares found me. It’s almost disorienting, this sense of safety, of being so thoroughly at ease that I could stay here forever and let the world pass without me.
I don’t want to wake him, but I need to check on Ciarán. Carefully, I lift his arm off my waist and slip out of bed. The floor is cool under my bare feet as I pad to the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth, trying to be quiet.
The apartment is silent as I cross the hall. I crack the door an inch to find Ciarán still sleeping in my bed, blanket tangled around him, one bare foot sticking out at an odd angle. His hair is a riot of black waves on the pillow, soft snores the only sound. He looks so peaceful.
Back in Noah’s bedroom, he hasn’t woken.
He’s sprawled on his stomach now, face turned toward where I slept on the bed.
His hoodie has ridden up, exposing a strip of warm-looking skin above the waistband of his sweats.
I know he usually sleeps in briefs, I’ve seen him come and go from his room in the mornings.
So he dressed like that last night to make me feel comfortable.
I’d like to say it was unnecessary, but honestly, it did make me feel more comfortable.
I slip under the covers, trying not to jostle him. I settle on my side, facing him, and watch him sleep.
It should feel intrusive, but it doesn’t, not with him.
His mouth is soft, his lashes long, the faintest hint of dark golden stubble shadowing his jaw.
His face is so familiar from years of orbiting each other, but it’s different now.
Older and more handsome, he’s grown to be such a beautiful man, inside and out.
He’s all muscle and broad shoulders, but like this—half-buried in his pillow, relaxed and warm—he looks softer.
The sight makes something inside me bubble over with a strange, bright happiness I’m not used to feeling.
I like him here, beside me in the morning.
Noah stirs after a while, blinking against the morning light. His gaze lands on me, and a sleepy smile curves his mouth.
“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, and butterflies riot in my stomach.
“Hi, Blue,” I say shyly. Those dark blue eyes brighten, and his smile widens.
“What time is it?” His voice is rough with sleep.
“Not even seven,” I murmur.
He stretches, a soft, deep groan leaving him, and it takes everything in me not to stare openly.
“No run this morning?” he yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
I shake my head. “No. Don’t want to wake Ciarán.”
He gives me a crooked grin. “A lazy morning in bed with Gabe Shaw, lucky me.” I laugh at him.
He always seems so pleased to spend time with me, even when we’re doing nothing.
As though being part of this quiet life is enough for him.
Like maybe, he really believes I'm enough for him. It’s surprising, and I still find it hard to believe.
He slips out of bed, and I glimpse the shape of his sculpted ass in those gray sweats as he heads to the bathroom. My stomach flips at the sight. Nobody should look that good in sweats.
When he returns, his hair is a little damp, like he’s run wet hands through it, and he smells of mint. Without a word, he slides under the covers again, tugging the duvet up until we’re both cocooned to the chin.
We lie face-to-face, breathing the same air. His knee bumps mine under the covers, and he leaves it there.
Noah looks at me like this isn’t just a random morning, like it’s something he’s been waiting for. His expression is warm, eyes glittering, boyish charm in full force. He looks comfortable here, like he belongs.
Maybe there’s a version of my life where this isn’t just a temporary thing—where I get to wake up next to him again, and again, until mornings like this become our normal routine. A version where I get to keep Noah. Forever.
I let myself enjoy the fantasy, just a little. It’s nice to dream, even if it’s unlikely.
“How’s the gym going?” I ask after a while.
Noah rolls onto his back, muscled arm tucked behind his head, and blows out a slow breath.
“Good,” he says. “Better every day, I think. But… we lost a lot of people after the first few weeks, which is to be expected; it’s settling now.
Hopefully, when word spreads, we get more clients. It’s a new business, it’ll grow.”
I move my pillow so I can see his face better. “Are you worried?”
He glances at me, the corner of his mouth pulling down.
“Not really, it’s just… Aiden’s been quiet about it, but I think he’s worried about money.
We’re covering costs for now, but it’s tight.
We have Jules and Zeke, and a fair amount of overheads from starting.
Me and Aiden are only taking a basic wage for now.
And…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“Lucy doesn’t seem to be pitching in much financially with Rose’s stuff. I know daycare is expensive.”
My stomach knots. I picture my brother exhausted and stressed, but always being the best he can for Rose, and guilt flares that I haven’t noticed sooner.
I’ve been so lost in my own issues for the last few years—between our parents’ passing, and everything else—I haven’t been the brother I should be to him.
I’ve been useless. Probably just adding to his worries.
I’ll offer more help. With Rose, with anything that eases some of the pressure on him. And Noah… he said they’re only taking a basic wage, maybe I could charge him less rent. It’s already less than what most people would get around here, but I don’t want him struggling.
I go to open my mouth, but like Noah can sense where my mind has gone, he shifts closer, bumping my knee with his under the covers again. “Don’t worry. I’m okay. He’s okay,” he says gently. “He’s just… tired. Everything will work out.”
I nod, wishing I could believe him as easily as he says it. “I’ll check in with him.”
“I’m sure he’d love that.”
There’s a pause, then his expression changes into something almost sheepish. “I’ve been working out with Theo most mornings. He’s funny as hell, for someone who looks like a member of a metal band.”
That pulls a chuckle from me. “He seems really nice. He and Ciarán seem to have hit it off. I think…” I clear my throat, feeling a bit silly for my next comment. “I’d like to be his friend too.”
I haven’t made a new friend in such a long time, and it seems like such a juvenile thing to want. I’ve kept a bit of distance so far, being nervous around new people. Everyone in the group gets on so well with Theo, though. I want that too.
Noah’s face lights up at my admission.
“Yeah?” he asks brightly, and I nod. “I think you two would get on really well. You both have similar humor, love to crack a good one-liner.” He chuckles, and there’s that warm feeling in my stomach again.
Pleased Noah finds me funny. “We should do more as a group, if you’re up for it.
I like seeing Ciarán and Theo annoying your brother. ”
There’s a wicked tilt to his lips. Noah and Aiden always had the type of relationship where they love to tease and torment each other.
“I’m sure he loves that, dealing with two people trying to get a rise,” I say sarcastically.
“He and Theo get on great, actually. He’s easy to be around, and we have the gym and love of tattoos in common, so that sort of bonded us.”
I think again about my brother, the same thought I’ve had so many times over the years, how he usually gets on with everyone.
Why does he always have to be so gruff with Ciarán?
I know Ciarán pushes his buttons, but he didn’t always.
When they first met years ago, he was nothing but nice to Aiden, while my brother just huffed and glared at him.
And now it’s a battle of wills between them, and I’m afraid it’s Ciarán who’ll get his feelings hurt.
Noah grins, then sighs dramatically. “Neither of them appreciates my superior taste in music, though. I put on my eighties playlist yesterday, I’ve added some new tracks—pure gold—and they both griped about how awful it was! It wasn’t awful, it was perfection.”
The conviction in his voice and the little pout on his face make me laugh. He turns to me, mock-offended, but the sight of him, sleep-warm, hair sticking up after drying at an odd angle, bottom lip pushed out slightly, makes the attraction I feel toward him burn even brighter.
“I like your music, you should play it more at home,” I whisper, and his eyes take on a radiant glimmer, affection shining through. All aimed toward me. It’s a lot to take, that look from someone as bright as Noah.
Before I think better of it, I reach out and run my thumb over his lower lip.
It’s full, soft. Warm against my touch.
Noah’s eyes darken instantly, his breath catching. The air between us shifts, turning heavy in a way that makes my pulse jump.
I don’t move my hand right away.
It’s reckless, the way my thumb lingers as heat stirs low in my stomach. And from the look in Noah’s eyes, he feels it, too. It’s like the entire world narrows to that point of contact, and time stalls, capturing this single moment.
His lips part, tongue peeking out to flick the pad of my thumb. My breath grows labored at the sight, and before I can do anything else, his lips close around it and he sucks. My cock hardens in reaction.