Chapter 64
GAbrIEL
Ilied when I told Cecilia the guys were out.
Not a big deal.
I kicked all of their asses out as soon as she said she was on her way and I’ve been pacing the entryway ever since.
Hearing her Jeep pull into the driveway, I don’t hesitate to open the front door.
I refuse to give Cecilia a chance to change her mind about this. It’s been a week of her avoiding me and I’ve had enough.
If she hadn’t messaged me today, I was getting ready to storm her house and demand her parents allow me to see her. I doubt I would have succeeded, but I’m desperate and out of ideas.
Cecilia drags her feet getting out of her car, and it takes everything in me to keep myself rooted on the porch. To not rush over to her and pull her out of the damn thing myself.
“Hi,” she says, lingering beside the driver's side door.
“You coming in?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual despite the uncertainty swirling inside me.
Cecilia hesitates for a moment before nodding, her movements stiff as she walks towards the porch.
I step back to give her space, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
I’m over the fucking moon that she’s here, that she finally reached out to me.
But I don’t know what to expect right now.
I can tell she’s nervous, but Cecilia should never feel like that around me.
As she reaches the porch, I hold the door open for her, trying to ignore the tension crackling between us. She brushes past me without a word, and I swallow down the lump forming in my throat as my eyes greedily drink her in.
She’s wearing loose-fitting jeans and my hoodie.
Was that intentional, or did she just throw it on without thinking?
Either way, she looks good in my clothes.
The marks on her face are another story.
She’s tried covering them with makeup, but the dark marks and swelling around her eye are still visible despite her efforts.
Is that why she’s been hiding? Is she ashamed of how she looks?
She shouldn’t be. Cecilia’s never been anything but beautiful.
Inside, the atmosphere feels heavy with unspoken words, and I struggle to find the right thing to say.
“How are you?” I finally ask, my voice coming out more strained than I intended.
She shrugs, her gaze flickering away from mine. “Fine,” she mutters, her tone clipped.
I resist the urge to reach out and touch her, knowing she won't welcome the move. Instead, I shove my hands into my pockets, feeling the weight of the silence pressing down on us.
“You said you wanted to talk,” I start, my voice cautious as I try to broach the chasm that’s only seemed to grow between us this past week.
Her eyes flick to mine, and I get a glimpse of anger buried beneath the surface. “Yeah, I do,” she says, her voice sharp.
Alright. Anger. I can work with this.
I take a step closer. “I need to understand what happened,” I say, fighting to keep my tone even. She’s not the only one upset. “You took off without so much as a goodbye and then ghosted me for a week.”
“What happened?” Cecilia scoffs, her eyes flashing with emotion. “You happened, Gabriel. You went after Austin without even talking to me about it, and now everything’s a mess.”
My chest tightens at her words. I thought we hashed this out already. “I was just trying to protect you,” I argue, desperation creeping into my voice.
“But you didn’t,” she says. “You managed to make everything worse.”
“I didn’t mean—”
She holds her hand out, and I snap my lips together.
“I know,” she tells me. “You didn’t mean to. You had good intentions. You didn’t think Austin would go after me. I know.” She pushes her hair out of her face. “I know, but even knowing, it doesn’t make any of this better. You still lied to me. I thought I could trust you but—”
“You can,” I interject. “You know you can.”
Shaking her head, she takes a few steps back. “No. I can’t. I thought I could, but you proved me wrong when you went behind my back.”
Is she being serious right now?
The irritation bubbling inside me reaches a boiling point, and before I can stop myself, I'm closing the distance between us, my hands gripping her hips tightly and pulling her toward me. “You think I wanted this?” I demand, my voice raw and angry. “You think I enjoyed seeing you in pain?”
Cecilia meets my gaze, her dark brown eyes blazing with defiance. “You don't get to play the hero, Gabriel,” she spits, her words cutting deep. “You had no right meddling in my life. Not after I told you to back off.”
“So your solution is to ghost me? Real fucking mature, Cecilia.”
“Ghost you?” she snaps, “What did you expect? I can barely look at you without feeling like I’m being stabbed all over again, only this time in the chest.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off with a bitter laugh.
“You betrayed me,” she accuses, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Don’t you get that? You broke your promise to let me fight my own battles.
Regardless of your intent, you stabbed me in the back and my life is imploding because of it. ”
The weight of her words hits me like a punch to the gut, and guilt consumes me. “I'm sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart. “I’ll say it a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to believe me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
But Cecilia doesn't want my apologies, and before I can say another word, she's pushing me away, her hands shoving against my chest with surprising force. “I don’t accept your apology,” she hisses, her eyes blazing with anger.
I stumble backwards, my chest aching with the force of her rejection. But despite the pain, I can't tear my gaze away from her. There's something raw and vulnerable in her eyes, something that draws me to her like a moth to a flame.
Her chest is heaving with each of her labored breaths. Before I can stop myself, I'm closing the distance between us once again, my lips crashing against hers in a desperate, angry kiss.
The anger and frustration that's been building between us explodes in a wave of passion and desire, and I lose myself in the heat of the moment, the world fading away until there's nothing but Cecilia and the burning need that consumes us both.
After the initial shock, I expect her to shove me away, but she surprises me when instead her arms wrap around my neck and she pulls me closer to her.
Our tongues and teeth clash against one another, and she bites at my lips, her teeth breaking the skin.
I hiss into her mouth, the taste of my blood mixing with the flavor of her kiss.
“I hate you,” she says when she finally tears her mouth from me. “And I don’t forgive you,” she says again.
“Then hate me,” I tell her.
Hoisting Cecilia into my arms, she wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her up the stairs and into my bedroom. “Hate me. Curse me. Yell at me.” I press her against my bedroom wall, grinding my length against her center. “But stop pushing me away.”
“We can’t do this,” she protests weakly, her voice breathless as I trail kisses along her jaw, mindful of the bruises on her skin.
“Yes, we can,” I insist, my desire for her clouding all reason and doubt.
Dropping her onto the bed, I tear my shirt over my head. Her gaze drinks me in and she licks her lips, lust flaring in her eyes.
I grin.
My fingers fumble with the buckle on my belt, and then I’m shoving my jeans over my legs and kicking them off my feet.
Reaching for her, I help Cecilia out of my hoodie before pressing her back to the bed and making quick work of removing her pants. When we’re both naked, I climb over her, settling myself between her legs.
Cupping her jaw, I pull her eyes toward me.
“This is a mistake,” she whispers.
“No, baby girl,” I tell her, “Nothing between you and me can ever be a mistake.”
Dipping forward, I claim her lips once again, my cock sliding into her hot, wet center. A perfect fit. I groan into the kiss, my hips thrusting forward to fill every inch of her.
“Gabe!” she cries out.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her. “Eyes on me.”
Her lashes flutter open to lock onto mine, and unlike before, I don’t fuck her with abandon. I make love to my girl, showing her with my body what my words have failed to.
As our bodies move together in a rhythm as old as time, I pour every ounce of love and remorse into our embrace. With each thrust, I tell her that I’m sorry. With each caress, I promise never to hurt her again.
Cecilia's breath hitches in her throat as I whisper words of devotion against her skin, my lips tracing the curve of her neck with reverence.
I bury myself deep inside her, losing myself in the feel of her beneath me.
“What are you doing to me?” she mutters.
Pressing my lips to each of her breasts, I dip my hand between us and begin stroking her clit. “Showing you I’m sorry,” I tell her.
Cecilia’s back arches as she reaches the edge at breakneck speed.
“Taking care of you in a way that only I can.”
She shudders beneath me, her release crashing over her in languid waves. “Gabriel,” she sighs my name with her release, and I lean forward, stealing the word from her lips.
My own release is quick to follow, and it only takes a few more pumps inside of her before I’m emptying myself between her thighs.
Collapsing beside her, I pull Cecilia close, her heartbeat echoing against mine.
Her leg hooks over my hip and I press myself back against her core, feeling the warmth of my release dripping out of her.
Something dark and possessive sweeps through me, and for a moment, I’m tempted to shove my cock back inside her, if only to hold my cum in.
Perspiration dots her skin, and I press a kiss to her shoulder.
“We can’t keep doing that,” she says, her breath fanning over my chest.
“Yes, we can.” My arms around her tighten. “You can be angry. You have every right to be,” I tell her. “But don’t …” My voice grows thick. “Don’t push me away.”
Cecilia pulls back. Lifting her chin, her dark brown eyes meet mine as she bites on her bottom lip. “I don’t think I can get past this,” she whispers.
Her confession breaks something inside of me, but I refuse to allow her words to take root.
“Then don’t,” I tell her, shoving my emotions in a box and tucking them away.
If I’ve learned one thing in dealing with all the rejection from my own family, it’s that I’m great at compartmentalizing.
“Don’t get over it. Don’t forgive me.” I press a kiss to her forehead.
“Hate me if that’s what you need to do,” I tell her, and I mean it.
I’ll take her anger and hatred. I’ll accept whatever she decides to throw at me. “Just don’t push me away.”