I’m still damp from the world’s fastest shower when I step out of my room. My hoodie sticks to me as I tug at the hem, trying to work it down over my waist while I toe on my sneakers. The laces are a tangle from me kicking them off last night, too tired to care after staying late with Aiden. I care now. I’m late.
I might have fallen back asleep after running with Gabe this morning. I don’t know how he runs like that every day. I thought I was in great shape, but he’s proving me wrong.
The apartment smells like him. Not the tea, exactly—though that, too—but Gabe’s own warmth threaded through it. It’s a delicate scent, comforting. It smells like… home.
And if I stand here for one more second sniffing the air like a weirdo, I’ll crawl back into bed and never leave.
“Work,” I tell myself, not for the first time this week. “Be an adult. You own a damn business.”
I grab my phone, keys, and the protein bar I’m pretending counts as breakfast. I take the stairs two at a time, still tying the string of my shorts as I head into the store. I hit the bottom step and stop because there he is.
Gabe, between the shelves, standing on his toes, reaching for the top shelf. The sweater he’s wearing—dark knit, thin enough to hint at the lines of his body—rides up as he stretches. There’s a sliver of skin, pale but warm looking, and a dark line of thick hair at his navel that disappears into his jeans.
It’s ridiculous, how my brain just… short-circuits at sight. The way heat darts straight through me, and my mouth starts to water. I’m a grown man with a day full of clients and admin waiting, and I am undone by one peek at his bare skin.
I should call out, be casual.“Morning. I’m heading out.”Something sane. Instead, I move toward him, like there’s a thread from my sternum to his and he’s pulled it without meaning to.
The paperback slots into place. He pivots to grab the next one, eyes cutting toward me as if he sensed the air shift.
“Hi.” His shy smile greets me. “Heading out?”
“Yeah,” I manage, but it comes out rough. “Just—”
Just what?
Just needed to look at you first.
Just wanted to see your face.
Just wanted to be greedy for one minute.
I stop in front of him, close enough that I can feel his body heat.
I press a kiss to his cheek. An innocent caress. He’s warm under my lips.
The corner of his mouth is right there, sweet and tempting, so I press another, slower kiss there, and his breath shakes so delicately, everything in me goes hot. I drag my lips back to his cheek as his skin goes pink, and the tiny shift of it under my lips drives me wild.
“Morning,” I say, trying to sound light, but it comes out shaky.
“Morning,” he whispers back.
And then I don’t make a decision so much as fall into it. I kiss him properly.
It starts slow, but Gabe tilts his head, opening for me, and that’s it, I’m gone. My tongue brushes his, and he makes a sound, small and needy, that sends all the blood in my body rushing south.
He fists my hoodie and walks us backward until his back meets the shelf. My hands find the shelves, caging him in without touching anything below his ribs, because I promised myself I wouldn’t push him faster than he’s ready for. He’s leading this thing.
He tastes like mint and something sweet.
His fingers leave my hoodie and curl around the edge of the shelf behind him, knuckles brushing my hand, and then he makes a whimpering sound I might spend the rest of my life trying to hear again. The kiss heats further, and it’s laced with a shy urgency that tells me more than words ever could.
Careful, I think, like a mantra.Slow down. Don’t rush. Don’t be the guy who takes when he should be listening.
If he wants me closer, he can pull. If he wants me gone, there’s no weight to shrug off.
He speaks not with words, but with his body. A tentative roll of his hips forward, and then stills, as if he’s checking for my reaction. I can’t hold in the breath that punches out of me when the hard outline of his cock brushes mine through the thin barrier of my shorts. He feels that, feels me, and a flush runs up his throat. He does it again, more intentionally, and the sound I make is half begging, half thank you very much.
“Fuck,” I breathe against his mouth.
