Chapter 24 #2
I stand next to Gavin and thumb through the evidence of Theo in various states of baby. He’s alone in most, but there are several with different women spanking him or giving him a bottle. Ah—there’s the bib.
The one with him nursing from a woman’s breast? I’ll never unsee that.
Gavin’s eyes go so wide I laugh.
“And here I thought that you had mommy issues.” We exchange a look as I flip to the next photo. “Told you we’d find something.”
At the one of Theo sans the diaper and holding only a rattle, Gavin groans and looks away. “What the fu—”
I put a hand over his mouth as the once-distant voices are now people in the room.
“You can see the primary is spacious,” a man’s voice says. Theo’s voice.
Gavin’s terrified eyes meet mine. I remove my hand from his mouth to put the photos away and snap the lid back into place as quietly as possible. Gavin turns off the light, and my body petrifies.
“Love this bed,” a woman says.
My hands grapple in the dark for Gavin. He finds my waist and pulls me flush against him.
I fist his shirt, forcing myself to breathe.
I’ve always hated tight spaces—especially when they’re dark—but I always work through the initial panic quickly because I’ve never truly been trapped.
But here, during an illegal search with people on the other side of the door, I am trapped, and my body knows.
I can’t breathe, I can’t move, and my heart might be beating itself broke.
Oh, no.
“Um.” My throat’s pinched. I sniff and manage a shaky, “Fresh wood.” I take two shallow breaths. Muffled voices penetrate the wall; it registers. “People.”
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
“Reese,” Gavin whispers, “what are you doing? What’s wrong?”
“I’m—” I breathe through the tightness. “I’m checking in with my senses.” My eyes adjust enough in the dark to make out his face. I’m cold but I’m sweating.
I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth, but all I taste is sour—I might puke.
Breathe.
The racks of clothes inch closer.
Breathe.
“You’re shaking,” Gavin whispers.
I am.
“Oh.” I imagine we’re on a mountaintop. “I . . . I don’t like tight spaces.”
Through the door, a man’s voice says, “Come look at the bathroom, babe. Separate tub and shower.”
We have to get out of here. Now.
In a low voice, Gavin says, “I once heard that the dark was afraid of Chuck Norris.”
If I wasn’t about to die, I’d tell him he’s too young to know who Chuck Norris is.
The voices move away from us—presumably into the bathroom—and every other word makes it through the door.
I wonder how much air is left in here?
Only I don’t wonder it, I say it, because Gavin says, “Plenty.” Then, still whispering, he adds, “Let me help.”
I’m too disoriented to fight him because we’re going to die in this closet.
I expect him to summon a chainsaw to cut us out of here—hope for it, really—but instead, he pries my hands from his shirt and wraps them around his waist. “Okay?”
I nod through shallow breaths.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, tight—we’re hugging.
Through the door, Theo says, “There’s a tankless water heater—you’ll never run out.”
Into my ear, Gavin says, “I have you, Reese.”
My face hits the front of his shoulder, and his beard scrapes my cheek.
“You’re safe.” His voice is the gentlest sound I’ve ever heard. “It’s just a closet and I’m right here. I have you.”
He repeats it until I feel the panic subside and his words settle into my bones.
The rise and fall of his chest slow the rise and fall of mine. The rhythm of his heart mollifies the rhythm of mine.
Maybe I’ll be humiliated about this later, but right now, all I notice is the sturdy warmth and foreign calm that comes with being held by someone else. Him.
Through the door, the conversation shifts to utility costs, but in this closet and with Gavin’s arms wrapped around me, what was dire becomes safe and sends me tumbling straight off a cliff edge and into a freefall.
I’m older than him, our lives might as well be on different planets, but I am so thankful he’s here that I can’t ignore this feeling that’s growing.
For him. Something bigger than friendship.
Every difference between us paling to the fact I’m letting him hold me and there’s no place else I’d rather be.
“Sorry,” I whisper, prying my body from his.
His hands move to my face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod and sniff. “I’ve never been trapped in a closet.” I force a soft laugh. “Or had someone exploit my weakness to hug me.”
His chest vibrates with a laugh and his hands drop from my face to my hips. “You hugged me back,” he says. “If that didn’t work, I was going to try dancing.”
“Funny,” I whisper.
From the bedroom, comments are made about where furniture would fit. It’s only a matter of time before they look in the closet.
Through the dark, my gaze collides with Gavin’s. Panic over being in a tight space is fading, but it doesn’t change our situation. It also doesn’t quell the fresh desire I have to run my fingers through his beard.
So marks my descent into madness.
The woman’s voice says, “Do you think a TV would fit on that wall?”
We have to get out of here, but our only play is to wait.
“What are you thinking?” Gavin whispers.
“Um.” I swallow. “How much worse this situation would be if you were all cleaned up and in a suit.”
He puffs out a laugh as my thoughts spiral in a million directions, all of them involving more closeness. With him. Even though we’re in a dark closet that just minutes ago tried to kill me and we need to get out of here and his hands are on me and mine him, I want more.
I also have the uncanny need to come clean.
“I have to tell you something,” I whisper at the same time Theo announces, “Over here’s the spacious walk-in closet.”
Theo keeps talking as the doorknob turns, and Gavin whispers, “Don’t fight me.”
Three things happen at once: light slices through the dark closet, my heart stops, and Gavin’s mouth crushes against mine.
I freeze—Gavin is kissing me—then melt right into him.
When his fingers dig deep into my hips, mine slink through his beard then into his hair.
When his tongue swipes across my lips, my mouth opens to let him in.
When Theo says, “Whoa!” I can’t pull away to acknowledge him because Gavin’s tongue touches mine and I want to suck it down my throat like a six-mile-long spaghetti noodle.
His beard scratches my face, and I moan.
Into him.
With an audience.
It’s Gavin who pulls away first, chuckling as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while looking at Theo.
“What I tell ya?” Gavin asks the gaping strangers as he grabs my hand—he has to because my knees are one breath away from buckling. He guides us around Theo and the speechless couple. “Think we’ll need a place with more bedrooms.”
We make it out of the room and down the stairs and onto the porch before my brain resumes functioning.
Gavin saw me panic over being in a tight space.
Gavin hugged me.
Then he kissed me.
Right after I almost told him why we were there because I don’t want to keep secrets from him.
Because—oh fuck—I like him.
“What was that?” I ask, flustered. “That kiss. That was—what was that?”
“Me saving our asses,” he says from the passenger seat. Unbothered. Like he didn’t just watch me bleed vulnerability before kissing me like sex. “And making sure you have a reason to keep your promise.”
I shove the key in the ignition, trying to think through the influx of adrenaline and hormones. I need to get far, far away from this man. “Promise?”
He grins. “The date you begged me to take you on.”
Damn him.