With one final roll, I collapse into him with a moan. He palms the back of my head, resting the other on my ass, and swells inside me before groaning, “Fuck, Ash.”
My cheek lies against his warm shoulder, our breaths heaving as I relax into him. Not a single regret in my mind.
The moment it was over with Jordan, my chest squeezed as panic tried to strangle me. This time, it’s just peace. My mind is clear of every thought except how much I like him.
His hand kneads the back of my head as he lets out a deep breath, kissing my hair. “You okay?”
I nod against him. “I am fantastic.”
He wraps an arm around the middle of my back, squeezing. “You really are.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. I could stay like this forever.
He shifts us until we’re curled up under the blanket with his chest pressed against my back. A muscular arm wraps around my shoulders.
He’s quiet for a minute before saying, “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”
I half laugh. “Nothing. I’m just happy to be here with you. I’m so happy, Gabriel.”
He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“That’s what you signed your letters as.” I shrug. “It feels like that’s what this version of you is called.”
“And what version is that?”
“The one that’s mine.”
Iwake to the sound of a woman’s voice in the other room. When I toss my arm back, it lands in the empty sheets, and my eyes pop open. Climbing from the bed, I grab his T-shirt off the floor and pull it on.
As I open the door to his room, the unfamiliar female voice fills the room. “Jesus, you’d think you’d warn your mother before she walks in on you half naked.”
“You could knock. That’d fix that problem,” Gabriel grumbles, slipping his sweatpants on over his black briefs in the middle of the living room. His voice is husky and rough like he too just woke up. God, everything he does is hot. The pants ride low on his hips as he ties the drawstring.
Stop eye fucking him in front of his mother.
“I’ve been showing up every Sunday morning for two years, and it’s never been a problem.” The floor creaks, and they notice me in the doorway.
The tall blonde woman turns her bright blue eyes to me.
She smiles warmly. “Well, hello.”
She’s wearing a pair of low-rise boot-cut jeans and a black V-neck shirt and doesn’t look even remotely old enough to be his mom.
“Hi.” I lift a hand to wave awkwardly.
“You must be the Michaels girl I’ve heard so much about.” Her voice is bright and welcoming, and her amber-and-saffron perfume fills the space.
What does she mean she’s heard about me? Probably from Shane, right? Is it naive to think Gabriel told his mom about me?
“Mom,” Gabriel warns, and I think I have my answer. My cheeks heat.
She waves him off, moving to put the groceries in Gabriel’s fridge.
“Your dad’s going up to Durham this morning to meetwith their new president. Your Aunt Corrine wanted me to come help with the store today. I was gonna tell her I had plans with my son but”—she glances between Gabriel and me before winking—“something tells me you’ll let me off the hook this time.”
He puts a gallon of milk in the fridge and says, “Dad didn’t say anything. Did everyone else go with him?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Just Dean and Mike.”
