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“Time’s up, Angel.” He barrels through the double doors and heads for his monster.
“What about my car?”
“You didn’t drive.”
“Oh, right.” The girls picked me up at Gabriel’s so I wouldn’t have to drive and could have a few drinks. Totally forgot we rock-paper-scissored to see who was the designated driver. Marni lost—or won the honor.
He sets me in the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt like I can’t do it for myself. “I still don’t see why you’re so upset, Big Man.” His lips twitch. “I saw that smile!”
He kisses my forehead. “There’s no smile.” He shuts my door and crosses in front to the driver’s side.
“What if I was going out of town tomorrow and instead of coming straight to you as soon as I found out, I asked Jonah to tell you—as anafterthought.” He pulls out of the parking lot. “And instead of coming home to spend my last night with you, I went out drinking with the guys? How would that make you feel?”
“Like shit. I wouldn’t like it.”I wouldn’t like it at all.
“Welcome to my night.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to the dark and receive no response other than a grunt. He’s right. I was only thinking of myself. I’d be hurt and disappointed if the guy I love spent his last night drinking with the guys instead of quality time with me.
Wait? What? Love?!No. No. No. It’s too soon for love. I can’t possibly love Gabriel. He’s been Mr. Asshole to me for the past five years. We’ve only been together for a minute. I can’t love him already.
Oh, God. But I do.
STILL REELING FROM MY REALIZATION, Ifollow Gabriel into the house and up the stairs. I stop inside his bedroom, watching the show as he strips off his clothes. He pauses on his jeans and eyes me, noticing I’m not advancing into the room. “Get naked, Frankie.”
Frankie. Not Angel.
I suppose he’s too upset to use his love name for me.Lovename? Does he? Could he possibly?
I should be happy he didn’t revert to calling me Francesca.
“I’m so sorry you felt de-prioritized, Gabriel. I wasn’t thinking.” I need him to know I didn’t intend to hurt him.
A grunt is his only response as he continues stripping.
“Are you not speaking to me?”
“I don’t feel like talking.” Completely naked and his impressive cock in hand, he strokes his length a few times as he advances. “Naked. Now, Frankie.”
“Frankie? Not Angel?”
He stops and frowns, his eyes scanning me like I’m a potential IED. “Same difference.”
I nearly tumble back from the blow of his verbal dagger. “It’s not thesame differenceto me.” Yes, I sound like a petulant child, but he’s hiding behind sex instead of telling me how he really feels.
He shrugs. “Not my concern.”
Wow. I knew it was too much to believe Mr. Asshole wouldn’t make another appearance. He snuck in on me after my defenses were down. After I believed I could possibly be more to him than just a hole to fuck.
After I fell in love with him.
I turn and head down the stairs before the first tear falls. I need a drink, and I don’t mean water. I make it to the kitchen before he catches up with me.
“Where are you going?” He managed to throw on his jeans. Though they’re still unfastened, I guess I should be thankful I’m not staring at a gorgeous naked asshole.
“I’m getting a drink.” I pour a shot of something dark from his liquor cabinet. I’m not a hard liquor kind of girl. It’s either beer, wine, or something cold and fruity for me. Though, even then, I don’t drink often. I doubt he has the fixings for margaritas. He doesn’t look like a margarita kind of guy. He looks like a whiskey guy.
I throw back the shot and gasp. “Fuck.” Was that whiskey? It sure as hell burns like whiskey. I pour another one.
