And when I saidI think you already know.
It was like slamming a steel door shut in my face before I even got the chance to tell her everything. That I’m not falling for her, I already have. That I want to date her. Be with her. And fuck, it gutted me to hear all the hesitation laced behind that question. Like I might be in this alone while she’s standing safely on the edge, unsure if she wants to jump in yet.
She’s not quite there yet. I know it. I shouldn’t have said that to her. I shouldn’t have pushed her. I hate to say it, but I thinkRoman was right all along. And that pisses me off even more.
‘She needs to date other guys to see that they’re not you.’
‘Don’t let yourself be just the rebound.’
And maybe Aly thinks she’s the only one trying to figure out how to carry all this heavy shit, but she’s not doing it alone. I’m scared too. Just not enough to not want to try.
What scares me is the other side of things. Her rejecting me. Waking up one day and realizing I’m not enough for her after all. Because I know, without a doubt that Alessia Martinez could wreck me if she wanted to. And the craziest part is… I still want everything with her anyway.
I miss hearing someone say that they’ve been thinking about me after being apart for a few hours. I miss knowing I’m on someone’s mind. I hate that no one misses me throughout the day. That when I’m on the train or riding my bike home, no one’s waiting breathlessly at the door, arms open wide, wanting me to arrive back safely.
I hate how much I miss hugs. It’s something so simple. I just want a fucking hug from a woman who isn’t one of my sisters on a random Tuesday.
I feel starved for affection. Starved of the attention from someone who wants to hear me talk about my day. And for a moment there, I thought she might be feeling the same way too. But now, it just feels like a cold reminder that we aren’t on the same page.
“Not much,” I answer him finally as he moves to one of the switches in the kitchen to inspect it. “Had lunch by the lake with a woman who needs some work done on her sink. Ate some oatmeal cookies.”Then Alessia’s pussy.
Travis smirks. “She hot?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “She’s a little too old for me. She’s a grandma. And she’s got a boyfriend. Nice guy named Eduardo.”
“Ah,” he nods knowingly. “I’ve got a couple clients like that too.”
“What about you? How was your weekend?”
“Didn’t do anything.” He sighs. “Took my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese and wallowed in my loneliness. Shit sucked.”
“I hear ya.”
The front door cracks open, surprising us both. I check the time, it’s still early and neither Natasha nor Aly should be home from work yet.
“Hello? Gabriel? Are you here? I saw your bike in the driveway.”
Fuck. It’s Aly.
I could lie and say my first instinct isn’t to push her right back out that door before she sees Travis. Because the truth is terrible. The truth is that I don’t want them to meet. Travis is a good-looking guy, but worse, he’s a solid guy. The kind of guy a woman could picture herself settling down with long-term. A guy with a kid already who might be her next big love after being with me.
And I’m just the rebound guy.
I’m the guy she fucked to get over her hurt and put her back in the game.
And every single one of my insecurities that I thought I’d healed from—rejection, my divorce from a decade ago, the gnawing fear that I’ll never be enough for Aly, that I was just a one-night stand to help her trust men again and nothing more—is clawing its way to the surface.
I’d love to grab her, take her home. Or grab my keys, jump on my bike, and ride until I outrun the jealousy that’s already sinking its’ claws into my chest because I haven’t felt this way in so long and I hate every part of it. It’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.
Aly deserves to date. To have that chance to find out what’s outthere now just like I did when my divorce was finalized.
And for that reason, I don’t do any of the immature, possessive shit I want to do. Instead, I ignore every instinct and do the complete opposite. I do what I think she needs right now. And that’s introduce the woman that I think I might be in love with to a man who might become her next boyfriend.
And I hate every second of it.
I clear my throat and force my response to sound casual. “Yeah, in here with the contractor.”
“Oh, thank God,” she sighs, stepping into the hallway and then freezes in the doorway.
