When the show ends, she rolls onto her side instead of sitting up, and I follow suit. We watch each other in the darkness, the brightness of the shooting stars replaced by the muted light of the planets around us.
“Where did you come from?” The wondering words slip out, and her mouth stretches into a smile.
“I should be asking you that question. This doesn’t feel real.”
“It’s real. I promise, Gabrielle.”
She hesitates. “And… you want me too?”
The vulnerability in her questions shakes me. Prompts me to give her my own honesty back.
“I do. But… I’m not entirely sure you’ll want me.”
Her eyes widen. “Why not?”
Gathering the courage she’s shown me, I tell her. “Because the things I like to do might not be what you enjoy.”
I can see the confusion, then realization, the slow blush stealing over her cheekbones evident even in the partial darkness.
“Do… do they hurt? These things?”
A shadow flits over her face.
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “That’s not my thing, sweetheart. I don’t get off on hurting women.”
“Okay.” She bites her lip.
Deciding that I’ve pushed her quite far enough for one evening, I reluctantly roll to my feet, helping her up.
She’s quiet as we leave, the late evening breeze cool enough that I slide my jacket around her shoulders. Her hand remains tightly gripped in mine, the other clutching the jacket as we drive home. I don’t push her, content to give her space to think before this goes any further.
Before I can’t let her go.
Although I’m starting to think it’s far too late for that.
ChapterThirty-Eight
Gabrielle
Ithrow my covers aside with a huff.
Hours of tossing and turning have left me a tired, grumpy omega. There’s an itch running under my skin, something crawling in my veins that’s leaving me unable to stay still.
My feet pad lightly on the wooden floor of the hall as I make my way down to an unfamiliar door.
Swallowing, I knock lightly. When I hear footsteps, I second guess my decision, my feet suddenly itching to race back to the safety of my bed.
The door swings open, my eyes meeting the warm tones of a bared torso. Axel blinks down at me, his hair mussed and eyes heavy from sleep.
“Little spoon?” he asks, his gaze sharpening. “Are you alright?”
My agitation is growing worse. Ducking under his arm, I make straight for the bed, breathing in Axel’s earthy scent as I burrow myself under the covers. Breathing deeply, I belatedly realize how it must look and pop my head out sheepishly.
Axel perches on the side of the bed, eyeing me. “Couldn’t sleep?”
When I shake my head, he pulls back the covers, waiting for me to nod before he slides in next to me. His body feels like its own type of blanket, the heat radiating from him enough for me to snuggle in, my cheek resting against his chest and my leg slipping between his. Once we’re completely pressed together, my body goes slack, the tension leaving it in a sudden burst of relaxation.
Sighing, I rub my cheek against Axel, listening to the faint thump of his heartbeat.
