Inspiration, Lena. That’s all this is.
I had to remind myself of the ultimate reason Gabe and I were spending time together. He was my muse, the guy helping to inspire me to my main goal, which was to write.
“It’s okay if you’re ready to head home,” I said. “It’s been a long day, and you don’t need me hogging up all of your time.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before Gabriel's massive hands cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss that shattered my ability to breathe correctly.
How one’s body forgets to breathe is something I never truly understood until that moment. This was our second kiss, and it tasted like promises of more. Promises I wanted to lean into. Right before I got utterly lost in delirium, Gabe pulled back.
“You’re driving.” He stepped back and handed me his keys.
“Wait, what?” I asked as he guided me to the driver’s side of his car, opening it for me.
“You heard what I said. Get in.” His voice was a caress and a command.
My knees bent, and the rest of my body did his bidding as I climbed behind the wheel. Gabe jogged around the front of the car to the passenger seat and got in.
“Adjust the seat, so you’re comfortable.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. “I’m just getting used to regularly driving in the last few weeks I’ve been here.”
I rarely drove in Los Angeles, even though I had a car. I’d grown up in New York, where it was either subway or walking
“Perfectly sure,” he answered without hesitation. “Adjust the seat.” He didn’t even wait for me to do it. Instead, Gabe leaned over, his big body hovering over me as he pressed the lever that pushed my seat up.
My eyelids slid closed as my nostrils filled with his masculine, woodsy smell. His heady scent, coupled with his nearness, was overbearing in the best of ways.
When I opened my eyes, it was to see Gabe staring down at me with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk playing on his lips.
“Ready for this?”
I swallowed the lump that arose from his question. Was I ready? Because it didn’t seem like the question was solely about asking me if I was prepared to drive his car.
To answer, I turned the car on with a flick of my wrist and revved the engine. “If you’re sure, then I’m ready.”
Those may not have been the best choice of words to use at that moment. Electrified energy pulsed through the car's air, and it had nothing to do with my pressing my foot on the gas.
Gabe’s eyes narrowed, and all I could envision was that damn tattoo on his back. He moved his hand to my thigh, squeezing it, tracing circles along my skin with his thumb. The thought about Rayven and that Nat Geo documentary on wolves appeared in my mind.
What had she said again?
I couldn’t remember.
“Let’s go.”
I lowered my hand from the steering wheel to the gear shift and took us out of park.
“Make a right out of the parking lot,” Gabe directed.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked as I did his bidding.
“It’s you who’s taking me, Cin.”
There was that nickname again. What had he said it was for? Right, the cinnamon color of my eyes. I had a lot of pet names in my last relationship. But none of them felt as intimate as this one given to me by Gabe.
I quickly shook my head. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t in a relationship with Gabe. Nor would I ever be.
That era of my life was over. I was no good at it.
