Chapter 44
CECILIA
Gabriel's entrance into his house is like a sudden clap of thunder, his voice a crackling lightning bolt of fury. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snaps, barely allowing me a moment to breathe.
“Why are we here?” I counter, looking around the room. “Why didn’t you take me home?” The remnants of my panic dissipated on the ride over to be replaced by a potent cocktail of equal parts humiliation and irritation.
I feel exposed, vulnerable, as if every wall I've carefully built around myself has crumbled to dust.
I can’t believe I completely locked down like that.
I was making progress. Things were getting better.
Dammit.
One look at Austin in that house, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. If I’m honest, I was losing my shit even before that. Seeing him just made things worse.
When fear hits you like that, you’re supposed to go into fight or flight. But all I did was freeze, and he watched me. Wordlessly drinking his beer like I was his favorite fucking show.
Gabriel bares his teeth at me, his body vibrating with anger as the door slams behind him.
I jump, and he immediately curses.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” He huffs out a breath and visibly pulls himself together, reining in some of his anger.
“Why are we here?” I repeat the question, my words echoing in the tension-laden air.
Gabriel's gaze bores into me, stripping away any semblance of defensiveness. His silence is a palpable force, pressing down on me like a suffocating weight.
"Gabriel?" I prompt again, my voice laced with uncertainty.
"Because you’re being reckless," he finally responds, his tone edged with frustration. "And obviously need somebody to talk some sense into you. What the hell were you thinking going to Zeta Pi tonight? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?"
My spine stiffens, my breath catching in my throat. "Of course I know what can happen," I retort, my voice rising in defiance. "It’s already happened before!"
"Then why were you there?" he shouts back, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. This isn't the Gabriel I know, the one who never raises his voice, never loses cool.
Not with me.
Part of me recoils at the sight of him like this, his anger a raw, unfamiliar presence.
But another part—the part that craves his attention, his intensity—revels in it.
In knowing that I'm the reason he's like this, and that for once, he isn't treating me like a fragile piece of glass, ready to shatter at any moment.
Gabriel only ever yelled at me once—when we first met, before he knew everything that's happened to me. I was afraid of him then. But I’m not afraid of him now.
I stand my ground, meeting Gabriel's fiery gaze with my own defiant stare. The air between us crackles with tension, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.
"Why were you there?" he repeats, his voice softer this time, but no less intense.
"It was an accident, okay?" I retort, frustration lacing my tone. "It's not like I planned on being there tonight. I—" Screw this. I bite my tongue, my patience wearing thin, and make a beeline for the door.
He's not my keeper. I don't owe him any explanations. I'm not some child. I’m twenty-one years old. I don’t need to answer him.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he snaps, his hand gripping my arm and yanking me back around to face him.
"Home," I reply curtly, my jaw set as I stare down at his hand on me and ignore the electricity racing up my arm.
“You don’t have your Jeep,” he reminds me, his grip tightening slightly. He doesn’t hurt me. No. Gabriel would never do that. But his hold is firm. Unyielding.
"I don't care. I'll walk." I jerk free from his hold and reach for the door. But before I can open it, his hand slams down on it, blocking my exit.
“Move.”
"Cecilia—" his voice rumbles, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth of his body envelops me, making my stomach tighten with a mixture of nerves and something else I refuse to name. He leans forward, dipping low until his lips brush the shell of my ear. “You’re not leaving,” he growls.
My thighs clench, and I hate the way my body responds to him.
I turn around to face him. My hands press against his chest, a feeble attempt to create some space between us, but his arm remains firmly braced over my shoulder, trapping me against the door.
He’s so close. Too close.
His scent, a tantalizing mix of musk and spice, fills my senses, clouding my thoughts.
Why does he smell so good? Glaring at a spot on his chest, I push at him again, desperate to break free from this invisible hold he has on me, but he doesn't budge.
Frustration simmers beneath my skin, mingling with the heat radiating from his body. Why won't he just step back? Why does he insist on invading my personal space like this?
We need boundaries. We’re not together anymore. He can’t just force himself into my life whenever he sees fit.
"You can't keep me here," I protest, my heart hammering in my chest.
“I can, and I will,” he counters, his voice firm and unwavering. “At least until I know you’re not going to be a danger to yourself—”
Before I can even process his words, my hand moves of its own accord, the sound of the slap echoing in the tense silence that follows.
My eyes widen in shock as I watch the red mark bloom on Gabriel's cheek, the realization of what I've done hitting me like a ton of bricks.
"Oh my god," I whisper, horror washing over me. I've never lashed out at someone like this before. Guilt threatens to consume me. But even as I recoil from my actions, I can't bring myself to apologize to him. Not after what he just insinuated.
How could he?
I can’t believe he crossed that line and while I am absolutely mortified with my reaction, I refuse to let him make me feel small. Not about this.
“I am not going to kill myself just because I had a shitty ending to my date.” My voice trembles.
His jaw ticks and almost in slow motion, he drags his gaze back to mine.
"That isn't what I was saying—" Gabriel starts, but his words cut off abruptly, and I realize my mistake too late.
"Your date?" His tone is sharp, his eyes narrowing with calculation.
Panic claws at my chest.
Shit. Fuck.
"It's been a long night," I offer weakly, attempting to diffuse the tension that crackles between us like electricity. “I shouldn’t have hit you,” I tell him. “But you were out of line.”
Gabriel doesn't back down. Instead, he looms over me, closing the distance until there's barely an inch separating our faces. The intensity of his gaze makes my heart race, and I struggle to maintain my composure.
"I don’t give a shit,” he says. “I wasn’t insinuating anything, but fuck it. We’ll skip over that for right now. You're not walking home, and you’re going to explain this date," he insists, his voice firm and unwavering.
"Absolutely not.” I counter, desperation creeping into my tone. “I’m leaving. You can get out of my way, or you can drive me yourself. Your pick. But I’m going." Riding on the back of Gabriel's motorcycle isn't my idea of a perfect solution, but it's better than being stuck here with him.
“No,” he snaps, using that one word as a complete sentence. Damn him and his stubbornness.
"You're being unreasonable," I argue, my frustration boiling over.
He barks out a humorless laugh. “You haven’t seen me unreasonable yet.”
Our gazes lock in a staring contest, neither of us willing to blink and give in. I forgot what it was like. Sparing with him like this. Going toe to toe with anyone really.
Seconds pass, turning into minutes, and neither one of us budges.
"What now?" I ask, breaking the silence.
Gabriel’s jaw tightens. “Tell me about your date.”
Pass. That sounds like a terrible idea.
I shake my head vehemently, already dreading this conversation. "It was just one date. There's nothing to tell,” I say, hoping he’ll drop it.
Gabriel's eyes darken with suspicion. "I want to know why you were on a date to begin with. What happened to needing space? What about all that bullshit you fed me about needing to fix whatever the fuck you think is broken inside you on your own?"
Venom drips from each of his words, and I flinch. But despite being faced with his anger, I don’t miss the emotion that flickers over his gaze when he voices the questions.
Hurt.
Guilt churns in the pit of my stomach as I meet his hard gaze.
"It was just one date," I repeat, my voice softening because despite the ass he’s being right now, I don’t want to hurt Gabriel.
That’s never been my intention. "I wanted to see if I could do it. If I could go out like a normal college girl.” I sigh and tug at one of my braids.
“I’m not planning to see Wyatt again. It was just one date.
" I offer the explanation almost as a peace offering, hoping to ease the tension between us.
What I do in my free time is none of his business, but it doesn’t cost me anything to give him this.
Gabriel pushes away from the door and paces the length of the living room, his frustration palpable. It’s clear he doesn’t like my answer.
"So tonight was what, a test?" he demands, his tone sharp.
I nod slowly. "Yeah," I admit, the weight of failure heavy on my shoulders. "Adriana and I thought—"
The sound he makes is mocking. “Of course, this was her idea.”
My brows knit together in confusion, but before I can question him further, he demands, "Why?"
Despite my better judgment, I move closer to him, unable to bear the sight of him hurting like this. "Why what?" I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
I know I should leave it alone. I should take this opportunity to open the door and slip away, but for whatever reason, I can’t.
My body is drawn to Gabriel like a moth to a flame. Sooner or later, I know I’ll get burned, but I move closer to him anyway.
“Why what?” I try again.