Chapter 33 Alessia
He swallows thickly and I watch the strong movement of his throat as he works through what he wants to say.
“It’s that storm Eden said was coming—bombogenesis or something,” he points the flashlight to the kitchen window as if to show me.
I pull my arms around myself, already feeling the chill of not having the heat running start to creep in.
“Lightning, thunder, and a typhoon of snow. Knocked out the power in the city, I bet,” he continues like he hasn’t been ignoring me for days and this isn’t the first time we’ve spoken since I told him I didn’t want to hook up anymore.
I know it’s my fault, but I wasn’t expecting him to be so… to the point.
“I see.”
Gabriel pulls out his phone, switches to data, and checks something. His face is illuminated by the faint glow of the screen and that’s when I realize he looks more tired than usual tonight.
“You look cold,” he says without looking up at me. “Let me see what the generator can handle. I’ll try to get it warm in here again, but I can’t make any promises.”
Then without another glance my way he disappears into the garage. I wait in the dim light, listening to the wind howl outside, the house settling into an eerie silence now that the power’s cut off. A few sharp curses echo from the garage before he returns, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
“Alright, it’s plugged in, but it won’t keep the whole house running. We’ll get power to the fridge and freezer at best.”
I frown. “So… what does that mean?”
He exhales, raking both hands through his already messy, black hair. “It means it’s going to get colder in here. Fast.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” I nod, pretending like this isn’t a disaster.
It absolutely is. I hate the cold. I cannot sleep when I’m cold.
And worst of all, the storm outside doesn’t look like it’s ending anytime soon.
I force a bright, totally unconvincing smile.
“I’ll just put on a few extra layers and double up on blankets. ”
Gabriel looks at me, like he wants to say something, but I don’t give him the chance.
“Thank you for trying.”
Then I turn and head upstairs, making a beeline for the linen closet. Grabbing another blanket, I toss it onto my bed before pulling on the warmest fleece pants I brought over and a sweatshirt so thick I practically disappear inside it.
It’s still not enough.
I burrow deeper under the covers, but the cold is relentless, seeping through the walls, biting at my skin.
Downstairs, I hear Gabriel moving around, probably checking on things, making sure we’re as okay as we can be without power, taking care of business the way he always does to be sure everyone is safe.
I slip out of bed and put on a third pair of socks. It doesn’t help. My toes feel like they’re going to freeze off. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, teeth chattering so violently I swear my skull is rattling. I try to force myself to sleep through it.
An hour passes, and I’ve lost all feeling in my feet when there’s a knock at my bedroom door.
“Alessia,” Gabriel calls through it, his voice edged with amusement and concern. “I can hear your teeth from down the hall.”
“I’m fine!” I chirp, lying through my frozen, chapped lips. “Sorry for the noise! Totally fine.”
The door opens and he’s standing there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, looking so fucking handsome it makes my heart ache.
I’ve missed him. No, I’ve more than missed him. My body needs him. My mind needs him. I don’t know where we stand and if he only wants sex from me, but I need to talk to him. But more than that, I just want to be held by him right now. I want the heat that I know only he can provide.
Gabriel takes one look at me, and his expression is pure ‘Are you serious right now?’ His lips tilt at the corner like he’s trying to fight back a smile.
I must look ridiculous. I’m buried under three blankets, bundled like a bear in hibernation, only my nose and eyes peeking out. I even pulled out one of my winter hats and jammed it on my head to try to keep out the cold.
“You’re not fine,” he deadpans. “Come to my room right now.”
“W-what?”
“My bed. It’s warmer. The heat from my body, we can share it.” He says so simply. A pause then, “I’m cold too.”
“No, you’re not.”
He smirks. “You’re right, I’m not, but I thought that would make you feel better about joining me. Look, we don’t have to make this weird.”
I want to make it weird. In fact, I want to roll on top of him and ask him what do you want?
My body makes the decision for me, peeling me from the bed because—screw my pride.
I’m not making it through the night like this.
I follow him down the hallway, back to his room, the same one where just days ago he fucked me like I was his, only for us to agree that I absolutely wasn’t.
That night still lingers in my skin, the phantom feels of him pressing into me, the heat, the way I lost myself in him completely. The way he looked as he unraveled on top of me. And now I’m walking right back into that space hoping like hell I won’t get hurt, or hurt him, again.
Gabriel pulls back the covers, waiting for me to slide in first before he follows. His body is a furnace compared to mine and I instantly relax when his familiar smell envelopes my core.
Holy hell, he’s warm.
“I can hold you,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice low, a little rough. “If that’ll help.”
My breath is shaky. “Yeah… that’d help.” That’d help with everything.
I can feel the heat radiating off him before he even touches me, and when he does—when his arms circle my waist, his chest pressing solid and unyielding against my back—I practically melt.
His forearms rest on my hips, big, strong, dangerous.
He’s so close to moving lower, to giving me what my body is already screaming for.
Release. To be touched. To be held. For him to tell me that he wants me too.
But he doesn’t. He’s holding still, frozen like a statue with either superhuman control or…
something else. Polite distance? Indifference? I can’t tell.
And I am—soaking, throbbing, needing him so badly to act like he has in the past. To part my legs and sink inside me. To kiss my mouth and tell me I want more with you than what we’ve been doing, Alessia.
That pre-hormone surge that always happens right before my period kicks in is making me restless and desperate.
I want him to touch me. I need him to. But I get the feeling he’s not going to. At least, not without some coaxing and some open, honest, vulnerability from me.
“Will you… will you touch me?” I ask.
I hate how desperate I sound, but I am desperate right now. Warm, aching, tangled up in bed with him, his bare chest pressed against my back like a flame I can’t escape and don’t want to. He stills, his breath going quiet for a beat before he exhales, slow and steadily.
“No.”
I blink. The familiar burn of tears starts, and my throat gets tight. “Why not?” I ask, my voice cracking a little.
Silence. Just the sound of the wind howling outside, snow battering against the windows and the generator humming downstairs in the garage.
Meanwhile, he’s holding me like some kind of saint while I’m over here, practically shaking with need.
My thoughts aren’t pure. I want him back inside of me.
Now. Or just a little touch. His fingers on me, rough and knowing.
Something to take the edge off before I combust.
But he doesn’t want that. He’s telling me he doesn’t want to touch me, and suddenly my chest feels hollow, like something important just slipped through my fingers before I could grab hold of it. Now I’m terrified this is the moment everything unravels.
That tomorrow I’ll pack my things and move out of his house, back in with Natasha.
That we’ll slowly become polite, quiet acquaintances.
The kind who smile when we run into each other somewhere in town, who ask How have you been?
Like we’re strangers instead of people who once stood this close to something real.
And ten years from now, I’ll catch a glimpse of someone who looks like him across a crowded room, and my chest will ache with the memory. Because he’ll be the one who got away.
“Because you need to date other guys,” he says finally. I can hear the pain in his voice. “Be with other guys to find out what you really want… You haven’t had the chance to do that yet. And I’m trying… like hell… to respect that.”
My stomach clenches. “How do you know what I need?”
He shifts his hips a little behind me but doesn’t let go. Then he lets out a heavy sigh and presses his face into my hair just a little away from my neck. “Because I’ve been there, Aly. I know how you’re feeling.”
I roll slowly, turning until I’m facing him. He’s lying on his back now, eyes closed, jaw tight, like he can’t even stand looking at me anymore. Like he doesn’t believe what he’s saying either. I need to know that he doesn’t believe it before I tell him all the ways that I was wrong.
“You know that I went on a date?” I whisper because I see it now. He knows about Travis, and I was right to think that’s why he’s been avoiding me.
He works through another deep swallow. I trace the way his throat moves and the strong line of his jaw with my gaze. Gabriel has no idea just how attractive he is to me.
“I do,” he says.
“Are you upset?”
“No.”
“But you’ve been avoiding me.”
He nods. “I have.”
“And you were upset the last time that I went on a date with someone who wasn’t you.”
He hesitates. “I was.”
“So, what’s changed?”