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“Looks like we’ve found something to thwart your panic attacks,” he says, changing the subject effortlessly.
My shoulders drop a fraction. It’s odd how I couldn’t care less about being judged in any other arena of my life, but when it comes to this, my lips are sealed.
What the hell is wrong with me? Katherine’s my best friend. We’ve traveled together, stayed up all night watching old movies. I’ve helped her study for exams, and she had my back when I struck out on my own, away from family expectations and business.
But what I want from her—secretly, deeply want—is not conventional. There’s no way my fantasies are Park Avenue Princess-approved.
Gabe grins at me, somehow cocky and sweet at the same time. It’s fucking adorable and makes my spirits lift further.
“I’ve never actually made out in an elevator before,” he says.
“Me either.” And now I’m trembling for a whole new reason. Bittersweet relief travels down my spine, spreading to my fingers and toes. For the moment, my anxiety has faded, replaced with desire. “Who knew that could be the solution to severe claustrophobia.”
He smiles, gaze raking the length of me. I shouldn’t like it so much, and I definitely shouldn’t encourage it. At least not until we’ve talked to Katherine.
Thinking about my best friend cools my ardor, and I sag.
“I doubt it’s actually the cure,” he murmurs, sounding so smart and sure of himself. “But it’s one hell of a distraction.”
My discomfort bleeds back in from the edges. Starting in my mind with a thousand what-if statements. Questions. Memories. Fear. And soon, my body follows suit. Chest tight, breathing labored, skin prickling like I’m being stabbed with needles. I start to go numb.
And then Gabe’s there, slinging a leg across my lap, cupping my cheeks in his hands, pulling my attention to him like the world’s strongest magnet.
“You’re okay, King.”
A little of the dread melts away.
“Do I need to kiss you again?” The corner of his mouth hitches up.
“Don’t tease me with a good time.”
His weight on my legs is solid, grounding me. I suck in a deep breath and slide my palms up his thighs. He stays there, hands holding my face, gaze locked with mine. I can barely reconcile him with the person who Katherine used to get so steamed over. His compassion pulls me out of my tailspin.
“I like teasing you,” he admits, so soft it’s almost like it’s a confession.
Then he ducks his head, coming closer, hot breath feathering across my cheeks.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Why on Earth would I do that?”
“Less competition.”
“We’re not competing, King. We’re partners.”
Partners.
That sounds incredible.
I have an amazing family, to be sure. But there’s something so special about rallying a crew of like-minded people. Friends. Found family.
The way he’s staring down at me right now, hope alive in his eyes, expectation bracketing that sensual mouth, he feels the same way. This is a man who understands what it’s like to leave one’s family and build his own.
For years, decades, really, that’s been Alex.
And now he’s letting Katherine and me inside.
He’s making space for us in his life. In his apartment.