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My feet kick out, catching the intruder off-guard. He grunts as he rolls out of bed and slams into the floor. I fling myself over the side and lift my leg to stomp on his head and—
“Bloody hell, Mac. It’s me.”
Gabriel rolls on the ground, wincing as he clutches his knee. He wears only boxers and an utterly perplexed expression.
“Fuck.” I sink back into the comforter as it all comes back to me. Alec in the desert. Noah rescuing me. George being beaten up. The guys looking after me, offering to get Alec for what he did. And Gabriel carrying me to bed and holding me while I slept.
I spooned with Gabriel Fallen.
And then I kicked him out of bed.
I groan, resting my head in my hands. Heat flares in my cheeks. As my gaze falls on my body, I realize I’m not wearing any clothes. At all.
I grab the corner of the comforter and yank it over my chest, glaring down at Gabriel. “Why am I naked?”
Gabriel chuckles. He tosses me a faded tour t-shirt, which I yank over my head. “Don’t blame me. You must’ve got too hot or something about 3AM, because you threw off all your clothes. I tried to stop you, but you bit me.”
“I did not.”
Gabriel lifts his arm to show me a row of red welts on his bicep. Teeth marks. An even deeper blush of heat pools in my cheeks.
“It’s been a long time since I—”
“—shared a bed with someone. I figured.” Gabriel leans in close to flick a strand of hair from my face. His fingers brush my skin, leaving a pulse of heat behind. “You hog all the blankets, you crazy wench.”
I poke my tongue out at him and pull on his t-shirt. It’s so big and I’m so short that it’s more like a dress. Gabriel shoves his feet into a pair of tight black jeans. I try not to stare at his perfect ass, but I have no self-control. He blows me a kiss as he heads downstairs.
I grab a belt from the rack in his walk-in closet and loop it twice around my waist, cinching in the shirt. I run Gabriel’s brush through my tangled hair, and splash water on my face. My expression in the mirror is… weirdly calm. I do not look like a woman who survived an assault and fell asleep in her rock god’s bed.
As I pad downstairs, a delicious smell wafts up to greet me. Gabriel kneels in front of his record player, cleaning a record and placing it on the turntable. Eli’s in the kitchen, flipping pancakes in a skillet, an enormous pile of crispy bacon already stacked beside him. He has a frilly apron tied around his waist, and it looks completely ridiculous and also adorable in a way that makes my stomach tight. There’s something about Eli that’s so… earnest. He may be rich and popular, but I still see that guy who took me to Disneyland to cheer me up. That day got a whole five pages in my diary.
I just wish I had a memory of it. It sounded pretty special.
Of course, Eli loses points for the stalking. After reading my diary, that at least makes more sense. Now that I know Eli’s not a serial killer, it’s comforting in a fucked-up way to think he’s watched over me even after all these years.
I cross the room and plop down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. Eli turns around and smiles at me. When Eli smiles, his whole face lights up. It’s so different from Gabriel’s grin, which can’t help but be full of mischief and lewd promise. Eli’s smile is warm and safe and beautiful – I can’t believe I thought he was annoying before.
“I hope you’re hungry, because I made enough to feed an army.” He dumps an enormous stack of pancakes onto a plate and pushes it over to me.
“I approve. I’m an entire Roman legion desperate for my posca.” I reach for the maple syrup.
“What’s posca?”
“It’s vinegar from wine gone bad, mixed with water and herbs and shit. It was basically the Gatorade of the Roman Army, kind of like how pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup are the Gatorade of the Mackenzie Malloy army.”
“Personally, I’ll give the moldy wine a miss, although those Romans sound like they know how to party.” Gabriel comes up behind me and rests his head on my shoulder so his cheek touches mine. My fork flies out of my hand and maple syrup dribbles over the edge of my plate as a rush of heat impales my coordination.
“You’re really interested in all this Roman history stuff?”
I’m startled by the not-violence in Noah’s voice. My once-bitter enemy slumps into the stool on the end of the breakfast bar, as far from me as he can possibly get. Those coal-black eyes study me, hard and intense. But I don’t get that sense of danger from him, of rage rolling off his body like waves ready to sweep me away.
I shrug. “My father was into it – Caesar and Augustus and all the emperors. I read all the fancy-ass books in the study. I might not be able to pass a Calculus test, but I do know tons of super useful facts about Ancient Rome I’m sure will be applicable in everyday life.”
Gabriel laughs as he helps himself to a pancake stack twice as high as mine. “What are we doing with our little stowaway?”
“Plotting Alec’s downfall.” Noah accepts a plate from Eli.
Eli looks me up and down, this worried frown on his face. “We should take you to a doctor, make sure you’re okay.”
