Page 184 of Gabriel
Cecilia puts on a clean pair of panties and reaches in her bag for a sleep shirt, but before she has the chance to pull it on, I pluck the offending fabric from her fingertips and replace it with my own.
“Here,” I tell her.
Smirking while cocking her head to the side, she doesn’t comment as she tugs my shirt over her head. The hem falls to the tops of her thighs, and I can’t help but feel a surge of possessiveness seeing her wear my shirt.
Almost like she isn’t aware she’s doing it, I catch Cecilia tugging up on the collar, scenting my shirt. Her breath is deep, her sigh content.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Do you like how I smell?” I tease, catching her off guard.
Her cheeks flush a delicate pink, and she quickly drops her hand, attempting to play it off. “I was just?—”
But before she can finish her sentence, I pull her close, pressing my lips to hers in a heated kiss, effectively distracting her from any further explanation.
“I like you in my clothes,” I tell her. “And I like my scent on your skin.”
It’s yet another way of marking her as mine. Maybe I can convince her to take one of my sweatshirts when we get back to Richland.
Pulling away, I note the exhaustion evident in her expression and lead her over to the bed. She needs rest. It’s been a long day for her, and while I’d love nothing more than to strip her bare all over again, I know Cecilia needs a good night’s sleep.
After pulling on my discarded boxer briefs, I drop onto the bed and tug her down beside me. Pulling her body flush against mine, her back to my front, I breathe in the coconut scent of her shampoo. A wave of contentment sweeps through me.
This is how we’re supposed to be.
The warmth of her body against mine is exactly what I need, and I squeeze her small frame tighter to my chest.
“You’re breaking the rules,” she whispers, her voice soft but playful. An admonishment without any real heat.
I chuckle, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Rules were made to be broken, weren’t they?” I whisper, trailing kisses along her neck.
“Mmm,” she murmurs and settles into me.
“Relax,” I tell her. “It’s only one night. Or would you rather I go to my room and send Adriana back here instead?”
“No. You can’t do that.” She huffs out a breath. “They’re probably both asleep already, anyway.”
“Then it’s settled.”
She sighs. “One night.”
“One night.” I let the lie fall from my lips.
“Then we follow the rules again,” she says.
Unlikely. After having her in my arms and holding her through the night, I know there won’t be any going back for me. But she needs the lie in order to relax, so I give it to her.
As exhaustion begins to claim me, I feel myself drifting off. The steady rhythm of Cecilia’s breathing lulls me into a state of relaxation until her near-silent words have me opening my eyes again.
“I think you should go to the wedding,” she says quietly, rolling over in my arms to face me. Her gaze searches mine. “I know it hurts you not having a relationship with your family.” I stiffen at her words, and she places her hand on my bare chest. “This can be your chance to fix things with your mom.” I open my mouth to argue, but she brushes her fingertips along my lips. “Treat it as an olive branch, Gabriel. Because I think that’s what that invitation is. Don’t miss out on that opportunity because you’re scared of being hurt again.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with some other unspoken meaning. Is she also talking about us? Is she afraid of missing out on this, on what we have, because she’s worried about getting hurt?
I try, and fail, not to read into it. I’m hearing what I want to hear instead of listening to what she actually says. There’s genuine concern in her eyes, and a part of me knows she’s right.
But the idea of facing my family, of confronting the painful memories that come with that, fills me with apprehension. It might be an olive branch, but if it isn’t … if it was a mistake …
“I don’t think—” I begin.
“Please,” she murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the corner of my mouth. “I really think it can be good for you.”
