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Could have fooled me.I swallow my reply along with my pill. I don’t want to fight. He’s being nice. Anything I say will be caustic and detrimental to our truce. I’m worn out, tired, and in pain. Not the best condition to question motives and changes of hearts.
Gabriel, situated behind me on the bed with me between his massive legs, sprays detangler in my hair before gently combing it out. Then he turns on the hair dryer with the concentrator attachment and blows it out, clipping up sections to keep it out of the way as he goes. It’s a skill he says he learned from doing his sister’s hair when she was younger. He keeps this stuff on hand for when she visits.
The next twenty-ish minutes might be the most enjoyable of my life. The warmth of the hot air, his hand on my back, neck, and hair has me more relaxed than I ever remember feeling.
My head nods a few times as I start to doze off. He only chuckles and says, “Just a few more minutes, Angel. Then you can sleep.”
Finally clean, hair dry, food in my tummy, and drugs coursing through my system, I fall asleep with Gabriel watching over me.
Hot and squished, I open my eyes to find myself wrapped in strong arms I immediately recognize are not Austin’s. It takes a second before the visions of last night come flooding back in a stream of cringey memories. Austin used me, admitted he’s cheated with his lewd remark comparing my pussy and ass to others he’s had. I’m an idiot. A fool. I believed in us or maybe the fantasy of the us I’d hoped we could be. It’s not easy giving up on nine years of my life. As much of an ass as he was in the end, he was my savior in the beginning.
With that thought, no matter how natural it feels to be in Gabriel’s arms, using his chest as a pillow, I just can’t. I need distance. I need space to breathe. I move.
“Don’t.” His gruff timbre and tight embrace stop my retreat. “You were whimpering in your sleep until I held you. Then you finally quieted down and rested.”
Yeah, that’s not embarrassing. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I slept like a rock.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
I try not to read too much into his statement or the kiss. “I need to move.” I roll out of his arms and onto my back, regretting it the moment my shoulder gives its painful protest. “Shit! Will it ever stop hurting?”
A chuckle from my right has me looking at him, his hair a riotous mess, his chiseled face softened by the tenderness in his eyes. “It will. I promise.” He helps me sit. “But it’s going to hurt like a bitch for a few more days.” He checks his watch. “Time for more meds.”
I know all of this. I’m a physical therapist. But my training falls to the wayside when I’m the patient. For now, I’ll blame the meds and the emotional stress of my life falling apart.
“I’d like to get out of this bed, maybe sit on the couch, not feel like such a bum.”Or a burden.I need to make a plan. Do I dare go home? Maybe Donovan and Lili would lend me their guest room until I’m back on my feet. Could I stand to be in their lovey-dovey faces right now? Meh, beggars can’t be choosers. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m not sure Cap and his revolving door of women would want me in his space, no matter how much he cares for me like a daughter. I can’t go back to my apartment. Austin could show up. Though Donovan says he’s gone, I don’t have any desire to be in any space shared with Austin. Gabriel’s seems like the safest bet at the moment.
“We can do that.”
We?He’s entirely too agreeable. “Don’t you need to train?” I need some distance from Black Ops MMA Gym’s golden boy playing Mother Teresa.
“Tomorrow,” is his only response as he lifts me from the bed.
“I can walk,” I half-heartedly protest. Being in his arms isn’t all that bad. I’m a little needy at the moment after being thrown away by Austin. Maybe it’s not wrong to let Gabriel take care of me. For the moment.
“I know.” He traipses out of the room, down the stairs, and into the den, placing me gently on the couch with the recliner option. “Here.” He hands me the remote. “Find a movie or something. I’ll make lunch.” He throws a blanket over my lap and is gone without so much as a look back.
As much as I can’t trust this gentler side of Gabriel “No Mercy” Stone, I have to say, I don’t hate it. His mother and sister have to feel like queens if he dotes on them half this much. I’ll accept it as payback for every dirty look and hurtful word he spit in my direction. Frenemies. Maybe that’s what we are.
“College football? That’s what you want to watch?” Gabriel returns, setting up tv trays and propping me up with pillows.
“It’s Saturday.” Don’t most guys watch football on the weekends? My dad did. It’s probably the only trait I got from him I don’t despise. Austin used to tease me, saying I loved football more than him. I couldn’t admit—even in all the years we were together—I love football because it was the only thing my dad liked about me.
“So, that means college ball?” He heads back to the kitchen.
“Yep,” I respond loud enough for him to hear.
“I can get behind that.” He places a bowl of what looks to be beef vegetable soup on each of our trays, disappears, and comes back with a plate piled high with grilled cheese, napkins, and drinks.
“I’m impressed.” He’s got all the bases covered.
“Don’t be.” He sits next to me, his own tray close enough to touch mine.
I take a tentative spoonful, blowing till I’m sure I won’t scald my tongue. My first taste will definitely not be my last as the warm, rich goodness coats my mouth. “This tastes homemade.” Some chick must have made this for him.
“It is.” He places a napkin in my lap. “I couldn’t sleep when we got home from the hospital. I was sure you’d sleep soundly for at least a few hours, so I made beef stew. Hearty, and doesn’t require two hands to eat.”
When was the last time anyone cooked me a meal? Damn. This man’s thoughtfulness brings tears to my eyes. I nod and sniffle into my bowl. “Thank you.”
