His face crumples, and the tears start to fall heavily again, clinging to his lashes and falling between us.
“I love your sensitive heart, your kind soul,” I continue, like I have to get it all out now that I’ve started. “I love that you’requiet. That you don’t rush to fill silences. That you listen—really listen—when people talk. I feel safe with you. Like I can be myself without having to prove anything.”
“I didn’t think anyone would ever say those things to me,” he whispers.
“I mean them,” I say. No hesitation. No doubt. Not when it comes to Gabe.
“I’m not easy,” he says, voice trembling.
“And I love you,” I reply simply. “That’s not going to change because you have hard days. I told you before, we are worth it.” My own tears are falling now. “I would take a thousand of your hardest days over a single one without you.”
Gabe presses his lips to my jaw as a sob wracks his body. Then my cheek. He brushes his lips against mine. It’s not a kiss, it’s more than that, it’s connection. All the while, his eyes hold mine. Green reaching for blue—like it’s always been meant to.
“I love you too.” His words land on my lips, and I can practically taste them. “Even when it terrifies me because I’m so afraid to lose it. I think I loved you before we even kissed.” He gives me my favorite smile, shy and warm. “I think I loved you when I first held your hand.”
My heart has never felt so full. Gabe’s smile keeps finding my mouth, like it’s got a homing beacon, and every time he kisses me, it sets blissful sparks under my ribs.
When he moves back, there’s a sad look on his face again. “What’s on your mind, baby?”
“I had this plan,” he begins, fingers trailing down my neck. “To tell you I loved you… the night everything happened.” He swallows audibly before continuing, “It was silly, kinda dorky, but I was so excited.”
I bring my hands down to his hips, leaning back to look at him properly. “Tell me about the plan, you know I love silly and dorky.”
His eyes are still red-rimmed, but his lips quirk as he watches his fingers move across my chest. “I was going to leave a Post-it on the apartment door saying ‘I,’ then another on the bedroom door saying ‘love’”—his gaze flicks up to mine—“I was going to wait in the bedroom with the last one saying ‘you.’” He laughs lightly, and I feel like I could disintegrate with the warmth flowing through me.
I grin at him. “I’d love that.”
His eyes sparkle. Twinkling shades of green. Morning light breaking through leaves. “I was planning to play ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ when I did it.”
An amused exhale leaves me. “Sounds amazing.”
His hands journey back to my neck, squeezing gently. “I wish I could have done that for you. I wanted it to be special.”
“You could do it any day, and I’d love it. Or I could do it for you,” I say with a wink, causing him to smile again. “Or… we could be one of those cringy couples that disgust people and do it all the time. People would come over, and the walls would be covered in cheesy declarations of love.” His shoulders are shaking now. My voice grows more serious. “But this, here, is perfect just the way it is. Me and you, being close and open with each other. That’s all I need. You’re what makes everything between us special.”
“I love you,” he says again, like he can’t stop himself.
I can’t help it either, and I say it back just to hear the sound. “I love you.”
“Your heart’s racing,” he murmurs, palm spread over my sternum like he’s holding the center of me, and he is. This man owns my heart; it’s his to hold until my last breath.
“Yours too.” I press my hand to his chest, where his heartbeat surges strong and sure beneath my palm. The force of it makes my hand tighten instinctively. “We match.”
He noses against my temple with a pleased sound, an affectionate hum I’ve come to crave. “We do.”
49
GABE
“Fuck,baby, right there,” Noah pants as he pushes himself back on my cock. We haven’t left the bed yet today. My chest is to his back, one arm hooked under him, thumb flicking his nipple, the other stroking his cock. His arm is stretched back, wrapped around my neck.
Noah’s fingers move into my hair, holding me against him. I twist my hand on the upstroke, and he groans loudly, his hole clenching around me. He feels so good, so tight and hot.
“You close?” I grunt as I roll my hips.
“Yes,” he hisses out.
“Good boy,” I whisper, trying my best not to laugh. I definitely can’t say it like he does, but it has the desired effect.
