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They hit me hard in the pit of my stomach. Dad removed me from the insurance. I can feel the panic rising, a tide that threatens to engulf me. I go through the motions of making the appointment, then she reminds me of the cost that I have to pay upfront if I don’t have valid insurance at the time of services.
After hanging up, I desperately try to call Izzy, but the call goes straight to voicemail. I leave a message, my voice cracking with emotion. “Izzy, I need you. Please call me. This isn’t about Dad or Mom, but me. I’m sick and I need my big sister.” The words tumble out, a cascade of hurt and confusion.
I end the call, my breath hitching in my throat. Tears well in my eyes, spilling over in silent streams. I’m alone, utterly alone in this.
“What’s going on?” Gabe’s voice startles me. I clear the tears with the back of my hand.
“Nothing,” I answer, trying not to sound sad, but the sobs that follow betray me.
He slides in behind me, pulling me into his lap. “This doesn’t sound like nothing.”
I sigh, leaning back into his chest. His warmth envelops me, the clean scent of his shirt filling my senses. “My insurance . . . I don’t have insurance,” I confess. “The appointment is there, but I’ll have to pay at the time of services. Then, I called Izzy and . . .”
Gabe kisses the top of my head. “When is the appointment?”
“They were able to get me in next Friday,” I mumble.
“Let me make a few calls, see if they can see us tomorrow,” he states, as if he can just wave some magic wand and fix everything. “How about the rest? You said you were going to make a budget.”
“Well, I was able to transfer the money from the joint account, so I’ll be okay for about six months. But after that . . .” I trail off, chewing my lower lip.
“You don’t have to worry about that while you’re here,” he states, as if money isn’t a problem.
Twisting in his embrace, I look up at him. The lines around his eyes are tight with concern.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” I mumble, concerned about him.
His parents don’t give him money. He has to work to make ends meet. There’s this house which most likely cost him a lot. I don’t want to take from him.
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” One corner of his mouth ticks up. “We’re in this together, remember?”
I smooth my hands over his chest, fingers trailing down to toy with the hem of his shirt. Our eyes meet, and the air charges between us. “You do too much for your friends. I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you.”
Slowly, he leans closer and, suddenly, his lips capture mine. They are warm and firm. My fingers curl into his shirt, holding him close as we lose ourselves in each other. Our kiss deepens, tongues tangling as Gabe’s hands trail down my back. This kiss is something, everything.
It’s life-changing.
Mind-altering.
Heart-stopping.
Soul-stirring.
It’s an all-consuming moment, where we are like converging rivers, seamlessly blending into a single, powerful current.
I arch into him with a soft moan, a surge of heat blooming beneath my skin. His fingers venture under my shirt, tracing the contours of my sides, igniting a desire to explore him further, to know him more intimately.
He tastes like love, like promises.
He tastes like forever.
But forever is too soon.
Forever feels overwhelming, daunting even, considering everything I have to figure out before I fall madly off a precipice with this man. This amazing, caring man who kisses like a god.
Breathless, I break off the kiss. “Gabe . . .” His name is a mix of longing and hesitation. Love and fear.
His eyes are dark, lips kiss-swollen. “I know, we should stop.”
