29. Alexis #2
“Come here,” he says, his voice commanding but soothing at the same time. He rolls his desk chair back, making space for me. I hesitate for a moment, then walk toward him, my feet moving almost of their own accord.
Without another word, he reaches for me, guiding me onto his lap. I settle against him, and his arms encircle me, pulling me close. This, this is exactly what I needed. What I came running for.
His arms are steady, his warmth enveloping me as he pulls me closer. I have to resist the sudden urge to bury my face in his chest.
“Talk to me, sunshine,” he breathes. “What happened?”
“I… it’s stupid. I don’t even know how to…”
He brushes a hand through my hair, his fingers threading through the waves. “It’s not stupid.”
I exhale. Something in my chest feels loosened by the sincerity in his voice. “It’s Travis,” I admit. “He called me earlier.”
Gabriel’s body tenses beneath me at the mention of Travis’s name. I can feel the muscles in his arms tighten. “What did he say?”
“He… he told me that he had feelings for me. That he couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
Gabriel’s fingers freeze in my hair, and I can feel the shift in his body as the tension increases. “And how did you respond?” His voice is tight now, laced with a subtle edge of anger that he’s doing his best to keep in check.
“I told him I wasn’t interested. I said I was happy with how things turned out.” I meet his gaze, desperate for him to believe me. “I swear, I didn’t encourage him.”
“I know.” He brings a hand to my cheek, cupping my face. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
It’s a relief to hear those words from him, an echo of what I told myself when the panic first set in. I lean into him, closing my eyes. His touch soothes the knot of anxiety in my stomach.
“How did you end the call?” he asks.
“I hung up on him.”
I can’t see his satisfied smile, but I can hear it in his voice when he speaks. “Good. That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
I take a deep, shaky breath. “He just won’t leave me alone. After the bookstore, I thought he’d give me space, but…” I shake my head, at a loss for words.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He continues to stroke my hair, run his hand along my back, until the tension in my body starts to melt away. For the first time since I heard Travis’s voice on the phone, I feel like I can breathe again.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For being here for me.” I pause, grimacing. “And… for not being mad.”
“Why the hell would I be mad?” He sounds almost amused.
“Lots of reasons,” I say in a small voice. “I mean… Travis—”
“I already told you, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault he’s a creep.”
“Well, I also interrupted your meeting.”
He stops the motion of his hand on my back, meeting my gaze squarely. “You really think I give a shit about that?”
“I don’t know.” I think of the other men I’ve known, men in positions like Gabriel’s at the top of a large company. If I had walked in on a meeting of my father’s, he would’ve been apoplectic.
He sighs, then shifts his weight to hold me closer. “You could’ve interrupted me a hundred times today, and I still would’ve wanted you here.”
“I just didn’t want to make things harder for you.”
“You never do.” He shakes his head emphatically. “You never could.”
My eyes sting with unshed tears. I’m already too embarrassed to let those fall, so I blink rapidly to fend them off.
“In that case… thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” I press my face into his shirt.
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Yes, you have,” I tell him. “You’ve changed my life for the better.”
“All I’ve done is try to make this situation more comfortable for you,” he says softly. “I don’t want to be a part of your life that you regret.”
I lean back, meeting his gaze, and shake my head vehemently. “No matter what happens, no matter how this turns out, nothing could make me regret this.”
Something passes through his eyes. For a moment, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he presses his lips into a line and simply holds me tighter. His silence speaks volumes, though, about his own fears and uncertainties.
“You mean that?” he asks after a long pause, his voice almost hesitant.
“Of course I do.”
He reaches up to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch feather-light. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
I tilt my head, studying his expression. “You’ve done more for me than I can put into words,” I whisper. “You’ve made me feel… safe. Wanted.”
His hand lingers at my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin. After a moment’s pause, he says, “You once told me that you live in honor of your sister’s memory. That you want to be someone she would be proud of.”
I nod and open my mouth to reply, but he rests his thumb on my top lip. He’s not silencing me, exactly, just letting me know he’s not finished, his eyes asking me to wait. To let him get all the words out.
“You don’t just have to live for her,” he tells me. “You can live for yourself too.”
My eyes sting as tears begin to gather again.
I just managed to fight off the last wave of emotion, and now I’m on the verge of breaking again.
His words strike something deep inside me, a part of myself I’ve tried to ignore for so long.
Live for myself? The concept feels foreign, almost indulgent, like something I don’t deserve.
“I don’t know how,” I admit, my throat tight. “I’ve never known how.”
“You don’t have to figure it out all at once.” He quirks a little smile, the kind I know he doesn’t let many people see. “I just want you to know that your sister would be proud of you. That I’m proud of you.”
I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening as his words wash over me. I laugh, although it’s really more of a sob, as I bury my face in his chest against the warm fabric of his shirt. His arms come around me, pulling me tighter, offering me the kind of comfort I never realized I needed so badly.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering as he murmurs, “You never have to thank me for anything, sunshine. Just keep being you. That’s all I’ll ever ask.”
I tilt my head up, my lips meeting his. He stills for a moment, as if caught off guard, and then he responds, his kiss gentle but sure. His hand slides up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.
It’s not hurried or desperate. It’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. I let myself melt into him, my body relaxing at his touch, my mind finally quiet.