21. Gavin #2
I can’t help but smile, despite the flutter of nerves in my chest. “You don’t know what I’m doing. You’re basically asleep over there.”
She scoffs softly, but her voice carries a teasing edge. “You really think I need to be looking at you to know what you’re doing, or thinking?”
“Well… it has been ten years.”
She opens one eye and tilts her head toward me, that smug little smirk I’ve never been able to resist. “Not my fault.”
The words hit harder than I expected. My face drops, all the air seemingly sucked out of the space between us. Impressive, considering we’re outside.
A pang of regret twists in my chest. I hate that she’s right.
“Shit, Gavin. That was a low blow. I’m sorry.”
Her voice shakes slightly as she jumps up from the couch and rushes toward me, stopping just in front of my chair. Her eyes are wide, searching. “Please… say something.”
I fake a small smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I can feel my heart thudding with guilt. “It’s fine, D,” I murmur. “Let’s be real… I deserve it.”
Even as I say the words, a part of me wishes I could take everything back, sweep her into my arms, and make her forget every moment that kept us apart for the last decade.
She steps closer to me, placing herself between my legs. It takes every ounce of strength not to run my hands along the back of her thighs, to pull her closer to me.
I see her fidget with the hem of her shirt. Her nervous tic.
“Gavin, why did you go into journalism?”
The question catches me off guard. Completely random. Or at least it feels that way.
“We’ve talked about this,” I say carefully.
She shakes her head. “No, we haven’t. Every time I’ve asked how you ended up with the job, you changed the subject or said we’d talk about it later. Well…” Her gaze holds mine. “It’s been months. This is later.”
I look at her, really look at her, and realize there’s no dodging this. Not with her. Not anymore.
“For you,” I say quietly.
Her brows lift. “What?”
“Do you remember when we were dating and I was always working late? All those extra jobs I claimed to have?” I swallow. “I lied. I wasn’t working. I was taking night classes at the community college. Journalism classes.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, clearly trying to catch up.
“I saw the way you lit up when you talked about your work,” I continue.
“The fire in you. I’d never seen passion like that before.
I wanted to understand it, understand you, so I signed up for a few classes.
I was planning to go back to school anyway, and it seemed like a harmless way to knock out some credits. ”
I let out a breath, the truth heavy but long overdue.
“Then we broke up, and I stayed with it. At first, it was… yeah, probably unhealthy. It was a way to keep you close when I couldn’t have you.” I meet her eyes again. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about you. I fell in love with it too.”
My voice softens. “You helped me find my passion, sweetheart. My calling. You did that for me. I never thought it would lead me back to you.” I smile, emotion tight in my chest. “But fuck… I’m so glad it did.”
Tears spill down Dani’s cheeks when she moves. She’s grabbing my face, as if she can’t stand the distance anymore, and crashes her mouth onto mine. The kiss is desperate and messy. Full of everything she hasn’t said out loud yet.
Her tongue slips past my parted lips, claiming me, and the low sound that leaves my chest surprises us both.
God, I missed this, missed her. Missed the way she never hesitates once she decides what she wants.
I know we were together last night, but something about this kiss feels completely different.
Screw what I said before about not touching her.
I reach down, gripping behind her thighs, and lift her easily until she’s straddling my lap.
She settles like she’s always belonged there, grinding down just enough to let me know she feels how hard I am already.
My fingers twist into her hair, anchoring her, and she responds with a shaky breath and another slow roll of her hips.
Fuck.
This is exactly where I want her. And exactly why my chest tightens with dread.
I force myself to stop. I carefully tighten my grip in her hair and pull her back, just enough to break the kiss. It takes everything I have.
“Dani—”
Her eyes find mine. Glassy, swollen, still wrecked from crying, and it almost undoes me.
“I thought we agreed we needed to talk first,” I say quietly. “Before anything else happens.”
Her swollen lips are like a beacon, begging to be devoured again. She tilts her head. “Are you saying you don’t like it when I do this?” She leans in again, sucking my bottom lip, letting it catch between her teeth. She knows exactly what that does to me. She always has.
“Sweetheart,” I breathe, my voice strained. “There is nothing, nothing, I want more than to take you right here.” I swallow hard. “But I’m not going to fuck this up again. If we do this… it’s real. I said that in Vegas, and I mean it now.”
Her brows furrow. “So, you’re saying no sex unless we’re together. Like, actually together.”
“You don’t agree?”
She exhales, leaning back just enough to look at me fully. “I’m saying… can’t we be in the getting-to-know-you-again phase? Seeing what this could be?” Her hands slide along my shoulders. “And that phase also includes fooling around?”
“We already know each other.”
She shakes her head softly. “No. We used to. We have ten years to catch up on.” Her voice cracks, just a little.
“And yeah… there are still trust issues. I’m not saying we can’t get past them.
But forcing ourselves to be miserable and horny while we work through it doesn’t exactly sound productive. Or fun.”
I scoff, trying to mask how much that hits. “So, you’re just using me for my body now? Get what you want and leave me crying in the shower?”
She jerks back. “Do I even want to know?”
I grin despite myself. “Next time you talk to Emmett, ask him about Billy.”
She snorts. “How is it that man will sleep with literally anyone and still have the worst luck in love?”
“It’s a gift.” I wince. “Also, can we not discuss my brother’s sex life when I’m hard and you’re sitting on top of me?”
She laughs, the tension breaking just enough. “Fair. So… can we take the no-sex rule off the table?”
I close my eyes for a moment, breathing her in. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”
Her expression softens completely. She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine, arms wrapping around my neck like she’s anchoring herself to me.
“Total honesty,” she whispers. “No running away this time. That’s how we make it work. Can you promise me that?”
I open my eyes to find hers. There’s no doubt in me now. Not a single ounce.
“I’ll give you anything you want.”
Her smile takes over her whole face. Full of hope and heat all at once.
“Then,” she murmurs, voice dropping low, “I want you to take me into that room right now… and do very bad things to me.”
And just like that, every promise I’ve made to myself becomes worth breaking.