My forehead comes to rest on his shoulder, the contact small but monumental. The warmth of his skin bleeds into mine, his pheromones filling my lungs with each breath.
Gabriel exhales, a soft sound caught between relief and surprise. His arm moves with careful slowness, lifting to wrap around my shoulders, his palm settling between my shoulder blades.
Tension bleeds out muscle by muscle until I half-melt against his side. The pressure in my chest eases, allowing my next breath to come easier.
I hate this weakness, this need for connection that persists despite years of trying to excise it. Hate how my body yields to his touch, how my mind quiets in his presence, how the chaos inside me settles with his arm around me.
But I don’t pull away.
Gabriel’s thumb traces small circles over my skin, the motion hypnotic in its repetition. His strong, steady heartbeat thrums beneath my ear in a rhythm my own pulse syncs with.
Sleep tugs at the edges of my consciousness, and my eyelids grow heavy, body sinking deeper into the mattress, into Gabriel’s careful embrace.
I fight it, clinging to alertness through force of habit.
“It’s okay,” Gabriel murmurs. “I’ll watch over you.”
The simple words should mean nothing, yet as sleep claims me, a single thought surfaces from the whirlpool of my mind.
If he ever leaves, I won’t survive it.
16
The ache in my body wakes me, a dull throb that spreads through my hips. Not the sharp, jagged pain of violation I remember from juvie, but more an ache of muscles well-used, stretched in ways they’ve never been before.
I blink awake and find Gabriel already watching me. Sunlight slips through the blinds, striping Gabriel’s bare shoulder in gold. The sheets are tangled around us, warm and rumpled, carrying the mingled scent of sweat, sex, and his expensive cologne. My pheromones are there too, woven into it, claiming the space as shared.
“How long have you been awake?” The question comes out scratchy with sleep and the remnants of last night’s revelations.
“A while.” His fingers rest on the mattress between us, not quite touching me but close enough for his body heat to seep into mine. “You sleep deeply once you allow yourself to rest.”
The observation lands closer to home than he realizes. Sleep has always been an enemy, a vulnerability I resist until exhaustion takes over. Last night, with his arm around me, I gave in without the usual fight.
I wait for the panic of waking beside someone after sex, but it never comes. Instead, a quiet awareness hums beneath my skin, alert but calm.
“Why me?” I ask the question that’s been circling in my mind since he first walked into Foundation. “Why are you following me around? Why are you teaming up with me when the Rockfords have an army at their disposal?”
Gabriel shifts, his shoulders tensing, and he focuses on the twisted sheets. “I don’t think I’ve been subtle about why I’ve been following you around.”
“Okay, then why are you teaming up with me on this trafficking case?” I ask. “It can’t just be because Micah was involved.”
He picks at a loose thread in the pillowcase, a nervous gesture I’ve never seen from him before. “The others have their assignments. Sebastian’s handlingcyber security, Caleb and Damien are working their contacts in law enforcement, Raphael?—”
“That’s not what I asked.”
His throat works as he swallows, the movement drawing my attention to the pulse jumping beneath the skin.
“I wanted to be the one to protect you.” The words come out quieter than before, almost reluctant.
I study him with new awareness. The Gabriel before me is different from the man who strode into my club with easy confidence. This Gabriel holds himself curled inward, his body language broadcasting fear. Not of me, though I’ve given him enough reasons to be cautious.
This fear runs deeper, older.
When I reach for his shoulder, he flinches before leaning into the contact, a reaction so familiar it sends a pang through my chest.
I slide my hand down to his bare waist. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Gabriel exhales, his chest deflating. “The family business is complicated.”
