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“You’re drunk, Aurora. I’m exhausted. We should go to bed. We can talk about our sex lives tomorrow.”
It annoys me that he just dismisses it that way. Like it’s just a fleeting thought of mine. I was having these same thoughts a few hours ago when I was stone-cold sober. Gabe McGregor is hot as fuck, and I want him.
And I think he might want me back.
“Kiss me,” I say suddenly.
His eyes are on me and a small frown mars his perfect face.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I could never just kiss you once, Aurora.”
“So more than once then.”
His eyes shutter again, and he runs a hand through his hair.
“I’m going to bed. I suggest you do too. Gin will be home early and then she’ll want to talk your head off about every little thing.”
“That’s it?” I protest. “I ask you to kiss me, and you send me to bed?”
“I’m sending you to sleep it off. You’re drunk, and it’s been a long week for you. If the girls put you up to this…”
Joss had told me I should kiss him and see what it felt like. See if there were sparks or butterflies. That I might feel something with him that David doesn’t make me feel. Interesting that he knows so quickly how I got the idea.
“They didn’t put me up to it. They just made me curious about it. If you’re saying you don’t want to kiss me, okay.”
He gives me a pained look, and I turn to leave the room, feeling a little rejected. I know I hit him out of left field with all of this. That my brain is buzzing with the cocktails I had with his friends tonight. But I can’t get the image of him in that room out of my mind either. Can’t shake the feeling that I need to know what it’s like to kiss him. Apparently, he doesn’t have those same questions.
Before I can leave the room though his hand wraps around my upper arm and he halts me, pulling me back to him. His eyes drift over my face, there’s something in them I can’t read, and then he kisses me.
His lips press to mine and his fingers slip into my hair, threading through it as he pulls me closer. I melt into him, kissing him back and sliding my hands down his chest. His kiss is soft at first, tender even, but when I kiss him back, he takes more liberty. His tongue teases mine, and his other hand circles my waist.
My whole body’s lighting up. My cheeks heat and my stomach flips. I can feel the rush of want slip down my spine and goosebumps break out everywhere he touches me. The only thing my muddied brain can manage to do is ask why we hadn’t thought to try this years ago.
But a moment later he pulls away, muttering a low curse and putting space between us again.
“That was…” I’m not even sure there’s a word for it. Surprising? Mind-blowing? None of them feel like they quite encompass how strange and unnerving it is to find out that you have that kind of chemistry with someone you’ve only ever seen as a friend before.
“I shouldn’t have done that. You’re still engaged.” His eyes drift to the ring on my finger. The one I haven’t taken off yet because I’ve been too focused on getting away from the wedding and then getting here. To the place I feel safe. A place I feel like home.
“I’m not engaged. I just haven’t taken off the ring yet.” I go to reach for it, and he stops me.
“Fine. But you’re drunk, and you’ve just broken off your engagement. We shouldn’t be doing anything. Drink some more water, and go to bed, Aurora.” He gives me a pained look. One that tells me he really needs me to do what he’s asking, and I nod my agreement. He nods back like he’s satisfied with that. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” I barely get the word out. He’s already halfway down the hall—moving so fast he’s practically running away from me.
And I go to bed alone.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Aurora
After I eat a quick late morning post-run snack, I wander the house, studying some of the new décor that I’m fairly certain is influenced by Gin’s tastes. Gabe is always practical. He didn’t buy a huge house with his money. He saved, invested, put lots of money aside for Gin, and then finally just bought the bar. So nothing about his home is particularly lavish or over the top. Just the perfect home for him and Gin. So when I see all the tidbits of art and whimsy around here, I know it’s her influence and it makes me smile.
As I walk down the hall to the guest room, I see the door to his room’s ajar and step inside. He’s the eminent bachelor, so things are tidy and sparse. The giant king-size bed in the center of his large room isn’t perfectly made and there’s a half-open gym bag in the corner, but everything else is put away.
