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He cleared his throat. “I dated one of her friends when I was eighteen. For maybe two weeks.”
If Gabe hadn’t been watching, she would have lifted her fists to the sky and shaken them, cursing God or the moon or the Fates.
“Other than that,” he continued, “I’ve never shared the same interests with Naomi’s friends. Or Naomi. But I love her to death.”
Right. That beautiful, intimidating creature was his sister.
Veronica felt suddenly guilty. She was sure that Naomi and her friends were perfectly lovely. Veronica just...kind of didn’t want them to be lovely. She wanted them to be awful. Which made her feel even worse.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This isn’t the way I would’ve explained, obviously. I was thinking today that I needed to tell you about my family. I wasn’t going to keep it from you forever. I just told myself that we’d barely started dating, so it was okay.”
She nodded. “It is okay. I understand. We hardly know each other.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She smiled despite her tension. “I should go.”
“No, don’t go. Hang out with us.”
“Gabe, I’m sweaty and dirty and bruised and I’m wearing this.” She swept a hand up and down her body. “I’m leaving.”
“Fuck, this is not how I wanted this day to end. Not even close.”
“Me, neither.” She looked at his bed and wanted to kick it. She should have been naked and in his shower by now. This wasn’t fair at all. Her muscles were already starting to stiffen from the climb.
“I’m going to go take a bath,” she said.
“I could come over and help?” he suggested.
“No, have fun with your sister.” And Monique, her shitty, insecure brain added. She reached behind her for the knob and pulled the door open. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She turned before he could talk her into staying and called out, “Nice meeting you!” as she hurried through the living room. She started jogging as soon as she hit the sidewalk, and she was home in two minutes and shutting the door hard behind her. Her apartment felt dark and safe and lonely. It was free of Gabe and beautiful women and what he might be thinking about them.
But when she rushed to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine, she saw her notes and felt immediately ashamed.
#4—Stop being afraid.
She’d actually run home as if she’d been terrorized by those perfectly lovely women. All because she was afraid that Gabe would like them more. That wasn’t normal, was it? What the hell was wrong with her?
When thirty seconds of hard thought didn’t solve the riddle for her, she decided wine and a hot bath couldn’t hurt anything. An unquestionably less satisfying plan than the one she’d hatched at the bottom of that climb, but it would have to do.
She deeply regretted the loss of the orgasms Gabe had promised her, but as she eased her sore body into the hot bathwater, she wondered if this was just as good. She moaned so loudly she was afraid her neighbors might hear, then decided she didn’t care. It felt too damn perfect.
The wine and water soaked warmth into her muscles and she sli
d deeper into the tub, letting go of her tension.
She didn’t want Gabe to be a man who was used to hanging out with models. She didn’t want him to be someone who loved the city that had scared her so much. But he probably didn’t want her to be the type of girl who felt jealous and insecure, so maybe neither of them was perfect.
“No, wait,” she murmured. “That’s all me.” She laughed and sipped her wine, stretching her tired feet under the water. He’d been pretty damn perfect from the start. Or maybe not.
Her insecurities were all her fault, but Gabe was at fault, too. He’d withheld information that he’d known was important. A mistake, but not an unforgivable one, not this early in their relationship. Assuming she wanted it to continue.
She rolled her eyes at her own thought. There was no doubt she wanted it to continue. If she’d written in to her own column, she knew the advice she’d give. Have you told him all of your secrets? Did you sweep all the skeletons out of your closet on the first date and let him examine each one? Just because he gave you your first good lay doesn’t mean you’re married. Lighten up.
Lighten up. And stop being scared. There was good news to be had here. Gabe had spent time around the sophisticated women of Manhattan. He’d hung out with models. Hell, maybe he’d even had sex with them. And he liked Veronica.
“Don’t be flattered that a man wants to have sex with you,” she said aloud.
