“Then why did you stop loving me? Was it really because of your injury? Did it change the way you felt about me that much?”
“No,” he says firmly, confusing me.
“You’re right, I don’t understand. Injury or not, you knew how devastated I was after losing Brandon, but you pushed me away anyway. And I wasn’t equipped, Gabe. I wasn’t ready to do that without you. I don’t understand how you could do that to me. How could you do that to me?” I cry, the tears running freely down my cheeks now. “I lost part of myself when Brandon died, but without you, I had nothing, I was nothing. Just an empty shell. I’m still just a shell of who I was before.”
“Liv—”
“All I wanted to do was help you. I would have sacrificed everything for you.”
“I know.”
“I loved you so much. And I’m terrified that I’ll never be able to love anyone like that ever again.”
He gazes at me for a long silent second.
“I have to go,” I say quietly, turning toward the door, but he catches my elbow and spins me around.
“I never stopped loving you,” he says, just louder than a whisper.
I gaze up at him, wondering if I heard him right, and feeling dizzy from the emotions sloshing around inside me.
“You want to know why I hit that guy last night?” he asks, speaking a little louder. “It was because he was bragging about how he was going to hook up with you. Do you know what that was like for me?”
“Gabe,” I say, barely loud enough to hear my own voice, because my brain is still struggling to make sense of his admission.
“I can’t be your friend, Liv. I want to, I swear to God I want to. I tried...but I can’t.” He reaches for my face and wipes a tear from my cheek I wasn’t even aware was there. It feels as if my whole face has gone numb. “But not because of the reason you think. I can’t be your friend...because I’m still in love with you. And I know how incredibly selfish that is, but—”
“What?” I blink up at him, wondering if I heard him right.
“I love you,” he says, groaning, as though the words are torture.
I stand frozen, looking up at him, and I see relief and pain reflected in his eyes, mirroring my own emotions.
“I never stopped,” he says clearly, and my blood stills in my veins.
A thousand thoughts flood my mind, tugging me in different directions. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. I lied, okay?”
“You...you lied? Why would you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want you to sacrifice everything for me. I wanted you to finish college and start your life. And I knew the only way I could get you to do that was by telling you that I didn’t love you anymore.”
“How could you do that?” I ask, feeling my heart break all over again, like it was just yesterday. “How could you lie to me?” I pull my hand to my mouth, thinking of the pain I endured for months and months. For years. I cry quiet tears. “You broke my heart.”
“I know I did.” He pulls my hand away from my face and I see the heartbreak in his eyes too. “I just wanted more for you, baby.” He holds my face between his hands and says huskily, “I still do. You deserve so much better.”
“Better,” I say softly, “than what?”
“Me.” His eyes water and I see the guilt and sacrifice behind them. And all traces of betrayal vanish.
I reach up and smooth the little line over his nose with my thumb. “Gabe, there isn’t anything better than you.”
“Liv—”
“Shhh...” I put my hand on his flushed cheek. “It’s okay.”
Suddenly, a new emotion washes over his face that seems to be a conflicting mix of joy, pain, and sheer, raw passion, because his mouth is on mine within seconds and he’s pulling me into his arms.
Ohh. The feeling of Gabe’s lips on mine again is surreal. I’ve kissed him a thousand times before, but those kisses have lived as faded memories in my head for the last seven years. And none that I recall were quite like this. This kiss holds seven years of heartbreak and loneliness and longing and desire. It’s everything that we were, everything that we lost, and everything that we could be again, all wrapped up into one desperate kiss.
He holds my face as his eager lips navigate mine, pulling and tugging them until my heart is hammering inside my chest. His tongue caresses mine and I moan when I taste him. He’s warmly familiar and deliciously new all at once. I moan again and he drops his hands to my waist. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around him, kissing him frantically and kicking off my sandals as he carries me to his bed. By the time we reach it, my dress is off and Gabe’s sweatpants are pushed down on his hips. He drops me onto the giant mattress and kisses me urgently—on my mouth, on my throat, on the parts of my breasts that aren’t covered by my bra.
Roxy is standing beside the bed with her head propped up on the mattress, watching us with curious eyes.
“Go, Rox,” Gabe says to her, pointing to the kitchen, but she doesn’t move. He pushes himself off me, scoops her up—a hilarious sight with her long legs and shaggy tail sticking up in the air—and carries her to the kitchen. “Stay,” he tells her, repeating the command until she lies down.
He hurries back to the bed with a determined look on his face and I lean up to greet his eager lips when he climbs on top of me again. He kisses me slow and deep this time, and his tongue moves effortlessly over mine. He sucks my lips and gently pulls them between his teeth, making them tingle and making me feel frenzied with desire. I don’t know which part of him to touch first. I want to feel all of him. I want to explore his new body and rediscover the familiar parts I already know. My hands are everywhere at once—his hair, his neck, his back, his arms, his shoulders.
His new muscles flex under my touch and I want to kiss each and every one of them. He’s like a living, breathing David, with muscles carved from stone, except that he’s soft and warm and gentle. He kisses my neck and collarbone, and nuzzles my breasts.
I arch my back, giving him access to my bra, which he quickly unclasps and pulls down my arms. He gazes at my naked breasts and they swell under his lustful stare. He kisses each one softly, massaging them with his strong, gentle hands. He moves his mouth to my neck while his hands search the rest of my body. He seems equally torn as to which parts of me to touch.
I squirm beneath him, moaning and rocking my hips up against him. I want him so badly. “Gabe,” I beg.
He kisses my mouth and slips his hand inside my panties. When his fingers slide over the slickness between my legs, he moans and falls back onto his knees. He scrambles out of his sweatpants and his erection springs free.
The sight of him naked, with his etched muscles framing his maleness, is glorious. Even it looks bigger, if that’s possible. I don’t have long to ponder it. He leans down and kisses my thighs and stomach feverishly, hooking his thumbs inside my panties, before ripping them off. Literally. If it wasn’t the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, I would tell him those were my favorite pair.
He crawls over me, kissing me everywhere he can, and reaches for the drawer on his nightstand. He pulls out a condom and tears it open.