“Obviously,” I chuckle, as Alessia scrambles to sit up, her face flushed with more than just exertion.
“Yeah, sorry, my arms gave out,” she mumbles, brushing herself off and totally avoiding my sister’s eye contact, though Rhiannon’s knowing smirk says she’s not buying it, nor does she care.
I stand, offering Alessia my hand, which she takes without hesitation. Her skin is soft when it connects with mine. I wonder if she minds how rough and callused my hands have become from years of working in carpentry and construction. She doesn’t seem to.
“I’m going to walk Alessia home,” I announce casually.
“Sure, you are,” Natasha snickers from the couch. I give her a smile.
“I’ll be home later,” I tell Eden.
“I won’t wait up!” she calls behind me.
I don’t let go of Alessia’s hand as I guide her to the door. I don’t pay them anymore mind, either.
“Come on,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over her knuckles tenderly. “Let’s get you home.”
I can’t wait to see how she is with her walls down, even if it’s just for a night. Even if I’m not the man who brings them down permanently, something tells me that tonight will help both of us.
Chapter 13: Alessia
The walk back to Natasha’s and my house sobers me up fast. The chill in the air bites at my skin, and yes, I’m a self-proclaimed February hater, but Gabriel’s hand is warm and grounding me as he squeezes it tightly.
We walk in silence, the kind that feels less like absence and more like anticipation of what’s to come. The tension between us crackles with every step and crunch of our shoes, thick enough to wrap around my chest. And squeeze.
Sure, the alcohol loosened my guardrails—the ones I keep welded around my heart to keep men out and people from seeing the vulnerable parts of myself that I’m still working to soften, but it’s not the drinks pushing me forward. It’s something else, something undeniable. A certainty I haven’t felt since my life flipped sideways a year ago.
It’s the first drop in my depleted trust bucket. It’s the first sliver of hope. I know exactly what I’m about to do. Be with Gabriel. Intimately. For the first time since my divorce. And for once, that thought doesn’t terrify me. Itthrillsme.
The front door creaks open, and Gabriel starts to speak, “Doyou want me to make you a drink—”
I spin quickly, cutting him off as my arms sling around his neck, yanking him down to me. Our mouths crash together, messy and breathless, all heat and urgency. It’s completely different from the way I kissed him in the back of the bar but no less hot.
Maybe I should have brushed my teeth first, combed my hair, shaved my legs. Maybe I should be taking this slower, but I’ve been taking things slow for a year now and I’m tired of waiting and overthinking things. I don’t need everything to be perfect to take a chance. This won’t go any further than my bedroom tonight. And that means I need to just dive in andgo with the feeling.
He freezes for half a heartbeat, then lets out a low, hungry growl as his arms lock around my waist, pulling me flush against the solid wall of his chest and pinning me to him.
God, he’s big. The kind of big that makes you feel small and safe all at once but not intimidated. Kissing him brings me back to that night in the hallway where I kissed him and took liberties with his body that I shouldn’t have.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging harshly until my head tips back with a gasp from the pain and pleasure. He captures my bottom lip between his teeth, biting just enough to make me moan before pulling back to search my face and see if liked that.
“Even better than our first kiss,” he says, his voice rough. His lips drop to my mouth then my eyes where he holds my gaze. “Beautiful.”
I manage a breathless smile. “Look, we both know what this is, right?”
He nods, his grip unwavering on my hip to the point where he’s lifting me off the ground to hold me against him.
“Sex only,” I continue, “an opportunity for us to both getsomething that we want.”
“Sounds good to me,” he replies, eyes dark and unreadable, still searching mine like he’s looking for me to back out. And I have. Several times when I’ve attempted to do this with other guys post my divorce. I never even got to the kissing part. I couldn’t stomach it.
But not tonight. I’m not backing out with Gabriel.
I swallow hard. “You know more about my past than most men do when they get to this point. So, I expect you to honor my insecurities and fear.”
His hands soften slightly on my waist, his brow furrowing. “I’d never disrespect you or what you’ve been through, Alessia. I understand you’ve been hurt. Deeply. We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with me.”
I shake my head, pressing a finger to his lips because consent and the fact that he’s okay with stopping this and wants me to be comfortable tells me everything that I need to know. Tonight is about me getting past the barriers that I’ve put up inside my mind. Most of them have been self-constructed which means I’m going to have to do the work to bring them down.
