“Nah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “He might come to his senses on his way there, and if not …” He shrugs. “She knows how to handle him. Julio’s just …” He trails off, not finishing the thought, but I know what he’s thinking. There’ssomething brewing between those two, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it when things finally come to a head.
“If he causes a scene, I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.”
Gabriel grunts and then motions toward the hall. “Come on.”
I follow him upstairs, my steps light, but the weight in the air between us is heavy. The door shuts behind us, and the stillness thickens. I sit on the edge of the bed, fiddling with my sleeve, unsure if I should say something. I pushed Gabriel to deal with his feelings before, and it blew up in my face. I’m not making that mistake again.
He paces the room, hands dragging through his hair, his frustration radiating off him in waves. It’s like he’s searching for a fight that won’t come.
“I know Adam’s not the enemy,” he finally says, his voice strained like it’s costing him something to admit it. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, he’s just trying to be nice. But I fucking hate him anyway.”
I stay quiet, letting him talk. His muscles are tight, his jaw clenched so hard I can almost hear his teeth grinding.
“He’s who she replaced us with, you know? Me. Carlos.” His voice cracks on his brother’s name, and my heart twists in my chest.
Gabriel stops pacing, his eyes locking on mine, raw and exposed. “I’m an asshole, Cecilia. I know that. He didn’t ask for any of this. But every time I see him, it’s like he’s taking what’s mine. What’s supposed to be mine.”
I stand up, closing the space between us. My fingers brush his arm, trying to anchor him. “It’s okay to feel that way, Gabriel. To be angry. Your feelings don’t have to make sense. Not to anyone else. And you don’t owe Adam a relationship just because he wants one.”
His eyes flicker, the storm in them softening just enough. “I know. But fuck, I don’t know how to let go of it.”
“You don’t have to. Not yet.” My voice is quiet, but firm. “You’ll figure it out when you’re ready.”
Gabriel’s hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me close until our foreheads touch, his breath warm against my lips. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice rough. “For being here. For understanding.”
Before I can respond, his lips crash into mine, rough and desperate, like he needs this. Needs me. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claiming, and I melt into him, my hands gripping his shirt as I kiss him back with the same hunger.
He doesn’t slow down. His hands slide to my waist, fingers digging into my skin as he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his hips as he carries me to the bed, the heat between us growing hotter by the second.
I know we were supposed to take things slow. We promised. But right now? Right now, I don’t give a damn.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Gabriel growls against my throat, his hands tugging my shirt over my head. His voice is low, possessive, like he’s staking his claim on every inch of me. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you anyway.”
“Don’t say that.” I don’t know how I manage to get the words out between the way he’s touching me, his fingers brushing over my skin like I’m his lifeline. “Of course, you do.”
His lips crash into mine again, harder this time, his hands working my jeans free. “I need you naked. Now.” His command sends a rush of heat through me, and I’m quick to help him strip off the rest of my clothes.
“Fuck, Cecilia,” he says my name like a plea. “You’re fucking perfect.”
The way he looks at me—like he’s devouring me with his eyes—makes me shiver. His eyes darken as he drinks me in, his expression growing hungrier by the second.
“Gabriel?” I ask when all he does is continue to stare.
My voice must snap him out of his reverie because the next thing I know, he’s stripping off his own clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a newfound sense of urgency.
I only have a few seconds to take in the rigid lines of his abdomen and his thick, muscular thighs before he’s on me again—his body pressing mine into the mattress, his lips claiming mine as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
It doesn’t take long before I’m drowning in him, my mind spinning, dizzy with desire.
“Gabriel,” I gasp, my hands clutching at his back, pulling him closer. I want this. I want him. And I don’t care about anything else.
“God, I want you.” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my ear as his hand slides between my thighs, teasing me with just enough pressure to make me gasp. “Tell me you want this. Want me.”
“Yes,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need. As if I could ever deny him. “Always.”
“Mine.” He growls against my skin, his fingers working me into a frenzy, his touch possessive and sure. And when I come apart in his hands, I know with absolute certainty that this is where I belong. I was an idiot for ever thinking we needed to take things slow.
Gabriel's lips trail fire down my neck, each kiss pulling a shaky breath from my chest as I come down from my release. His hands are everywhere—rough palms tracing the curve of my hips, sliding over my thighs, leaving a path of heat in their wake. I shudder beneath him, the world narrowing to the feel of his skin on mine, the weight of his body pressing me into the bed.
