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Cold without him draped over me, I pull my knees into my chest.
“Be right back.” He runs a finger down my calf. Halfway to his room, he turns around. “Give me the benefit of the doubt before you freak out.”
“Freak out?” Unease whispers across the back of my neck. “Why am I going to freak out?” I sit and swing my legs over the bed.
He holds up a finger, disappears through the doorway, and returns with two bottles of Fireball—one full, the other almost empty.
The rush of our kiss fades fast.
“Benefit of the doubt,” he repeats, passing me to go into my bathroom.
I scramble after him but stop short of crossing over onto the tile.
“Wow.” His gaze lands on the makeup station on the counter, moves to the lime lingerie hanging over the edge of the tub, and ends on the zebra bra thrown over the towel rack.
“Vi’s.” I blush for her.
“I figured.” He shoves Vi’s makeup over and sets the Fireball on the counter next to the plastic-wrapped cups. “Are you okay?” He unscrews both caps.
Not okay. I can smell the alcohol. My stomach burns. My heart’s beating too fast. “What are you doing?” I close myself off by wrapping my arms across my chest.
“I made three decisions last night.” He stands at the edge of the doorway, where I’ve parked my feet. “We already took care of the first.” His gaze drops to my lips. Before I realize what he’s going to do, he leans forward and places a feather-light kiss on my mouth.
The instant flutter in my stomach makes me want to pull his head down and kiss him back. The Fireball on the counter makes me want to push him away. The Fireball wins, and I press on his chest until he steps back.
Unruffled by my rejection, he motions for me to come into the bathroom. “My second decision is a two-person project.” There’s a roll-with-it quality in his voice, like he gets I’m seconds from losing it. “I’ll even give you the big one.” He hands me the full bottle.
My fingers tighten around the neck. The glass feels heavier than it should. Like it’s full of everything I lost, everything Mom didn’t give me, everything she took with her the day Dad handed her a dishonorable discharge.
Without looking at me, Gabe flips his whiskey upside down and pours it down the drain. “Your turn.” He gestures to the sink, scooting over to give me room to do mine.
The swirl of the liquid down the drain turns out to be even more satisfying than drowning my heels in the toilet.
Both empty bottles go into the trash, and Gabe’s hands find my waist. He tugs me in front of him and rests against the counter. “I can’t promise I won’t ever play quarters with my buddy Carlos again.” The hand still on my waist tightens like he expects me to bolt. “But I have no problem not drinking around you. Can you be okay with that?”
I put my hand on his heartbeat.
“People can drink without being alcoholics. You know that, right?” He covers my hand with his.
“In my head.” My toes press against the cool tile. “I just don’t have any experience with that.”
Tipping my chin, he searches my eyes. “That’s fair.”
“Thank you for dumping the alcohol.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
I nod. But I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I smooth imaginary wrinkles from his shirt and step back. “You said you made three decisions. What’s the third?”
He braces his hands behind him on the counter. “I need to see my mom. Will you come with me?”
chapter 34
Gabe
“When life gets bumpy, switch to a smoother road.”
~ Meredith Morgan
