“Kieran…” he began, but his voice cracked, and the grief in it nearly split me open.
I couldn’t let him say it first again. Not when those three words had been one of the things anchoring me back to life. Not when I knew how heavy his heart was, how he carried the weight of everyone else and always put himself last for us all.
“Wait,” I whispered, crossing the space between us in a rush. My hand lifted before I could second-guess myself, my fingertip pressing gently to his lips. The warmth of his breath fanned across my skin, hot and unsteady.
His words died as his eyes locked on mine, searching and questioning.
“Before you say anything,” I said, my voice trembling, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering. The words clawed at my throat, urgent and desperate to find their release. I couldn’t let the world steal another second without him knowing. Not when time was so fragile and we had nearly lost it all. My chest heaved with the weight of it as silence stretched between us.
“I love you, Gabe.” The truth spilled out in a whisper, but it carried every ounce of me with it.
Every moment I’d watched him sacrifice himself for others. Every time he stood unshaken at my side. Every smile, every touch, every time he put me first without expecting anything in return.
His lips parted beneath my finger, his breath catching hard, and then for the first time I could remember, I saw color bloom across his cheeks. Gabe—always so steady, always so composed—was blushing. His mouth curved slowly into something sly, almost boyish, his eyes glinting despite the heaviness still lingering there.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice low and teasing against my fingertip. “I don’t think I heard you, Little Star.”
His words landed like a spark in the tension coiled between us. For half a heartbeat, I just stared, caught off guard by the sudden mischief in his eyes and the lightness I so rarely saw there anymore. It reminded me of the wicked angel I’d given myself to before we even knew the truth of who each other was.
“You heard me,” I whispered, my cheeks heating.
His grin tilted higher, unrepentant. “Maybe. But I think I need to hear it again.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at him, but the truth was, seeing him like this—cheeky, warm, unburdened, even for just this moment—lit something inside me. I’d lived too long watching Gabe drown under the weight of duty and sacrifice. I wanted to give him this. I wanted to giveusthis moment.
So I lifted my chin and said it again, louder this time and with all my confidence. “I love you, Gabriel.”
His breath hissed out through his teeth, sharp and uneven, like the words gutted him. His hand shot up, fingers wrapping around my wrist to pull my finger from his lips. He didn’t let go, though, instead he dragged me closer.
“Little Star,” he rasped, his forehead dropping to mine, “you have no idea what that does to me to hear.”
And then his mouth was on mine, claiming and demanding, like he was pouring every desperate prayer he’d ever made into the press of his lips. My knees nearly buckled with the force of it, but his arm was already around me, anchoring me, pulling me flush against him.
When he finally tore back for air, his lips were swollen, his eyes bright with joy. A shaky laugh slipped out of him, half-broken, half-giddy.
“So,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across my cheek, “have you decided yet? Are you taking me to Heaven, or to Hell?”
My chest fluttered, remembering the words from what felt like another lifetime. My pulse kicked with an emboldened recklessness.
“Let me show you,” I whispered, infusing my spine with the confidence in our love for each other.
Once upon a time, he’d told me that he didn’t want to rush this. That we had forever to get to this point. Last night had proved otherwise, but also, I hoped that he felt the difference in our connection now. How solid we were.
And with that, I stepped back from his touch and let the robe fall from my shoulders, pooling silently at my feet as coolair brushed over my heated skin. For a moment, neither of us moved.
Gabe’s breath caught audibly, his green eyes widening, drinking me in like he couldn’t quite believe I was real. The teasing spark in his expression faltered, replaced with hunger, reverence, and awe tangled into one.
“Little Star,” he whispered, the words barely audible. His hand hovered just above my hip, close enough for the heat of his palm to radiate. “You’re…you’re perfect.”
A blush flared hot in my cheeks, but I refused to flinch away from his gaze. I wanted him to see me. All of me. He’d seen my body before, but this felt different. This time we were choosing each other with our eyes wide open to every facet of each other.
His hand finally landed, a tremor running through his fingers as they splayed across my waist. He bent slightly, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath ragged. “Are you sure? After everything last night…Are you healed enough for this?”
For a second, the tenderness in his voice cracked my composure. He wasn’t just asking for permission. He was asking because the thought of hurting me, of pushing too far, terrified him. That was Gabe—always last on his own list, always carrying the weight for everyone else.
My lips brushed the corner of his jaw as I whispered, bold and steady, “Don’t make me ask twice.”
