GABRIEL
Avery’s in my arms.According to the clock on the dresser, it’s nine-thirty in the morning. I never sleep in. Never. I also rarely sleep through the night, and guess what? Last night, I did.
Her head is heavy on my chest, her hair cascading off the side. I remember what this was like, to wake up next to her on days when I wasn’t waking up on an uncomfortable excuse for a bed at the fire station.
It’s not hard to remember, because I never forgot. Avery was always only as far away as my open eyes. Close them, and there she was.
But this? A million times better.
She makes a soft noise, a tired moan, and shifts. Her cheek drags over half my chest, and she turns, eyes on my face.
The corners of my lips turn up at the sight of sleepy Avery, but the look in her eyes stops me. It’s fleeting, this look, and she’s already replaced it with happiness, but still. I saw it.
She slides up a few inches and places a delicate peck on the corner of my mouth. “This is a dream, right? Waking up with you?”
I can tell she means it. She’s thrilled it’s my face she saw when she opened her eyes. But first, she was surprised. She woke up next to Hudson for months. I’m assuming, anyway.
This is the first time I’ve fleshed out this idea of Avery in a different relationship, and what that entails. In my imagination, they did what we did.
She woke up next to him. She knows his favorite food, has likely had dinner with his parents. They’ve probably been on vacation together.
Avery’s two fingers brush over the skin between my eyebrows, smoothing apart the furrowed skin. “You look upset.” She props herself up and looks down, the ends of her hair tickling my chest.
“It’s nothing.” I don't know what we’re doing, or how long this will last, and I don’t want it marred by unpleasant feelings.
A stern look comes over her face. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t hold back because you think I won’t like what you have to say. Because you think what you say might cause me to feel a certain way.”
She’s good. She’s even better than she was when she was practicing. Maybe it was all that therapy she went through for herself.
I toy with the end of a strand of her hair, and say, “You were surprised to see me when you woke up. I could tell.”
Her lips purse. “Yeah,” she admits, her voice soft. “Sorry about that.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
She shrugs. “True or not, I still feel bad.” Her fingertips trace over my chest. “It’s ok for me to feel bad. You didn’t cause that.”
I open my mouth, but she shakes her head. “Please don’t say anything more. That feeling is mine. I own it. And you can’t take it away, or make it better.” She taps her finger on a large freckleon my chest. “For the record, I was surprised for a nanosecond. I feel very happy to wake up and see you.”
I reach for her face, molding my palm to her cheek. I have the strongest urge to ask her what the hell we’re doing, what this all means. Do I dare read into the past twenty-four hours? I’m not willing to risk an answer I won’t like, and the question tumbles back down into my throat. “Do you want to come to the shop for a few hours today? I need to finish up a barn door.”
“I would love to.” She smiles when she says it. “Mind if I bring my laptop? I need to work for a little while, too.”
“I don’t mind.” I look at the clock again. “I should run home. Shower, do a few things around my place. Can I pick you up at noon?” My lower lip draws in between my teeth, and I chew. Avery eyes the motion knowingly, and lightly tugs at my lip until I release it.
“Nervous?” she asks.
“A little,” I admit. This is reminding me of our first date, the way I asked her out in the parking lot at the fire station. I’m as nervous now as I was that day.
“Noon is perfect.” She presses a light kiss to my mouth, then starts to pull away. I catch her hand, pulling her back, and she doesn’t protest. I think she was waiting, hoping I wasn’t done with her.
I’m not. Not by a long shot.
Gently I guide her onto her back and make love to her.
