His hand snaps over mine, grip tight, shoulders rigid.
I freeze, every muscle going still. My stomach drops, and I let go instantly, pulling my hand back to my lap. He’s breathing too fast, and it twists something deep in my chest. I fucked up. “Shit, Gabe. I’m sorry—”
“No. It’s okay.” His voice is level, but his shoulders are tense. He exhales, then reaches for me—his hand finding mine where it rests in my lap, lacing our fingers together and guiding them back to his thigh.
“I want that,” he says, softer now. “I do. It just… caught me off guard.”
My pulse is loud in my ears, part adrenaline, part the edge of fear that I did something to trigger him.
“You sure I didn’t hurt you?” My voice feels too loud.
“You didn’t. I promise.” His hand flexes in mine. “Just… don’t squeeze too hard, okay?”
The words make me feel like I’m sinking. I know exactly why he’s saying that, and bile rises at the thought. I keep my hand in his, letting him feel that I’m not going anywhere.
I don’t know if it’s the right thing to ask, but I need to know Gabe. I need to know how to be with him without hurting him. I’d never hurt him physically, but it’s his mind I’m most worried about right now. “Gabe… is this because of him? Your ex?”
His fingers tense around mine. He doesn’t answer right away, just stares at our joined hands, tracing the edge of my knuckle with his thumb like he’s stalling for courage. His eyes flick up, nervous but resolved. “Yeah…” He swallows roughly. “He… he…” He trails off, shaking his head.
My chest goes hot with anger, a surge that feels too big to hold. I want to take every bad memory from him and burn them until there’s nothing left. My other hand curls into a fist before I force myself to relax it. I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but the urge to find that prick and make him pay for what he did to Gabe is strong. I won’t, obviously. It’s not in my nature, but I wouldn’t be upset if I heard someone else beat the shit out of him.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, even though the visceral need to know and understand every part of him flares. I don’t want anything forced between us.
He squeezes my hand before speaking again. “He wasn’t always bad to me. He was nice at the start, charming. Everyone liked him.” He huffs and shakes his head. “Everyone except Ciarán. Said he got weird vibes from him. And he was right.” He chews his lip before continuing. “We were just friends for a good while before anything else. Even when we started dating, he treated me well. I don’t even know when it all changed.” He blows out a breath. “Things went from bad to worse after my parents passed. Before that, he’d been off with me a lot, never in front of anyone. Then he started drinking more than usual. But… after I bought the store, it’s like that was a tipping point. He wasso much worse.” His shoulders sag, and he looks defeated. I hate it. “He started being cruel.”
His voice cracks on that last word, and my heart does, too.
“Gabe.” His name comes out in a rasp. “I’d never treat you like that. Not ever.”
His shoulders tense, and there’s something almost wary in his eyes, like he doesn’t know if he can believe me.
“I mean it,” I say, leaning in, letting him see the truth in my eyes. “And I’m going to prove it. However long it takes. You’ll never have to wonder with me.”
I hold his gaze, making sure he sees that it’s not just something I’m saying but something I’ve already decided, a vow nailed into place.
“No one gets to hurt you again,” I add with all the conviction I feel. “Ever.”
He must see the truth in my eyes as some of the tightness in his shoulders eases. He squeezes my hand, voice barely above a whisper. “I know you won’t hurt me.” He leans forward until his forehead rests against mine, his breath ghosts across my skin.
I keep him close and kiss him again, tenderly this time. Letting him lead, letting him feel safe in it. The tension bleeds out of him with every pass of lips. My knuckles skim his cheeks, jaw, neck. My other hand is still in his, tracing patterns over his skin.
When we pause for air, he stays right where he is, pressed close, eyes soft and open.
“I’m okay,” he murmurs, so quiet I almost miss it. Then even softer, “With you… I feel safe.”
The words slam into me like a weight I want to hold forever. He’s not just saying he trusts me, he’s giving me something irreplaceable. Something I’d protect with my last breath.
I press a kiss to his hair, breathing him in. “That’s all I want, Gabe. To keep you safe.”
22
GABE
Three days.
It’s only beenthreedays since I told Noah the truth. Some of it, anyway. I want to tell him more, but I’m just not ready yet. I’m scared of how he’ll react, of how the way he looks at me might change. The words he spoke have been replaying in my mind for days.No one gets to hurt you again. Ever.
He didn’t look at me differently after. If anything, every kiss since has been deeper and more patient at the same time, giving me control. He hasn’t rushed. He hasn’t asked for anything I didn’t offer. He keeps his touch safely above the waist. My jaw, throat, shoulders, the small press of his palm between my shoulder blades when he brings me closer. He’s drawn a line and won’t cross it unless I move first.
