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Chapter Thirty-Six

Storm

I wake up feeling more refreshed than I have in a long time. Gabriel’s bed is much more comfortable than mine, the sheets are silk or something. But that isn’t the only reason I slept well, because the bed at the hotel was comfortable too. This bed is Gabe’s. It’s a private place for him, and he let me in. Something about that…

Also, it smells just like him, even if he changes the sheets every week. His fresh, slightly musky scent is soothing.

He’s still pressed against me, only now I’m on my back and he’s cuddling against my side, arm thrown over my chest. Our legs are tangled together and his head is resting on my shoulder. I don’t hate this, but it’s not something I’m ready to do every day. I like my space too. I lie here for a while, staring up at the ceiling, until Gabriel’s alarm goes off. He stirs before rolling over to get his phone to shut off the alarm. He stays on his back, rubbing his eyes before turning his head to face me.

“Morning,” he rasps out.

“Morning,” I reply with a smile. “So, how was it?”

“Didn’t hate it,” he says, sitting up. I roll over to put my arm around his waist and tug him back, kissing his neck.

“Then why are you leaving so soon?” I crawl over him, thrusting my erection against his. If there’s one thing that is a sure thing with Gabriel, it’s that he’ll be hard in the morning.

“Work,” he rasps out.

“You have plenty of time,” I say, kissing down his chest. I push his shirt up and kiss his bare skin, down to his hip then tug his pants down so I can get at his dick. He groans, thrusting into the air, looking for my mouth. “Want me to make you come before work?” I stroke his dick once.

“Yes, please.”

“You’re always so polite.”

“Would you rather me be rude?” he asks, and I laugh then suck him into my mouth. I go slow, teasing and licking and sucking, pushing him all the way to the edge then stopping.

“You tease me too much,” he complains.

“If it was too much, you wouldn’t come back for more.”

“Fair point. Just make me come. Please .”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

I deep throat him and massage his balls until he releases into my mouth with a throaty groan. I climb up his body and kiss his lips.

“Our video goes live today,” I tell him.

“Can’t wait to see how it does.”

I roll off him, and he gets to his feet. I stare at his bubbly ass as he pulls his pants up and gathers his clothes for the day. Even on days he doesn’t go to work, he’s got this business casual look. Presentable at all times. I love it.

“Do you own a pair of jeans?” He looks at me over his shoulder, frowning.

“No.”

“We should change that.”

“Why?”

“Because I think your ass would look amazing in a well-fitted pair of jeans.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like jeans. They’re… constraining.”

“And those collared shirts aren’t?”

“They stretch.”

“They have jeans that stretch too.” His eyes widen slightly. “Yeah. They’ve come a long way.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, then walks out of the room. It feels weird. Not being in his room alone, though that is a little strange. It’s more like something is wrong. Like he’s upset. I stay in his bed until he returns, and he seems shocked to see me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away, but goes to his dresser to check his tie that we both know is already as straight as it’s going to be.

“Gabriel,” I say, getting up and going to him. “What is wrong?”

He sighs, ducking his head, so I slide between him and the dresser and grab his chin to make him look at me.

“Talk to me,” I urge softly.

He searches my eyes before saying, “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” I ask carefully.

“Us. This. I’m—confused. I mean, you act like we’re together by holding my hand and introducing me to your friends, but when you get upset, you snap at me and push me away. I’m not trying to be clingy or weird about this, but I need to know, very clearly, what is going on between us. I can’t keep wondering and questioning your every move.”

He’s out of breath when he’s done with his rant, and I’m left speechless.

“Oh…”

I should say more. That’s the right thing to do, and it’s only fair. But I’m not sure where to start. I’m just as confused about this as he is. I like everything that we’re doing, and I like him, but I’m not trying to settle down. That’s never been in the future for me.

“I mean, are you even going to tell me what happened yesterday?” he continues.

“Nothing happened yesterday,” I answer with a shrug.

“You’re lying, Storm. You were upset about something about your mother. And—”

He snaps his mouth shut. I narrow my eyes because he was going to say something, but stopped himself. We agreed to communicate, so why, now, is he stopping himself from saying something?

“And what ?” He holds my gaze, not saying a word. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me, Gabriel.”

He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and says, “I know you lied to me about where your mother lives.”

He what ?

“What, are you following me? Checking up on me?” I ask, trying to keep my anger in check. My blood is boiling, my skin hot. My mother never even kept tabs on me, but he is? I’m a grown man, and so is he. Meaning he should know this is unacceptable.

He scoffs, giving me a look like I’m an idiot—also maybe he’s a little offended. “No, Storm, I’m not. I respect your privacy, actually.”

“Then how do you know that? You’d only know if you were following me,” I go on. “Is that what you’re doing? You’re like stalking me or something?”

The look on his face now can only be described as disgusted. He scoffs again, shaking his head before saying, “I know the guy who lives in that house.” Oh. “I would never follow you or break your trust by disregarding your privacy, and the fact you’d jump right to that is insulting.”

“I’m sorry—” I begin.

“I have feelings, you know. Even if I struggle to show them or don’t show them the way other people do, they are there, I assure you.”

He turns on his heel and leaves his room. I stand there, dumbfounded over what just happened until the front door closes and I realize what actually happened.

Gabe just stood up for himself. I was treating him the way his family treated him, and he stood up to me, without having to be told. As much as my chest hurts over that little argument, I couldn’t be more fucking proud.

I spend the day moping around, trying to decide how to handle this situation with my mother’s house and, of course, Gabriel.

He deserves a clear answer. Gabriel was brave enough to ask the question, so he should get an honest response. That’s what I’ve been asking of him this whole time. He’s doing his part, but… I can’t give him an answer. I’m not sure I have one.

I like the way things are now, and the thought of anything more has me unable to breathe. I can’t be tied down, and I refuse to be trapped by anyone. Maybe he’ll forget about the conversation, blame it on being tired or something. Then we can continue on with how things are going and celebrate when our video blows up. I owe him an explanation for what’s going on with my mom, but I’m nowhere near ready to talk about that yet. Honestly, don’t know which is worse. Talking to him about us or my mother. Both make me ill.

As for her house, well, I need to get by there asap before there’s a real issue with the city. My mother hasn’t been there in months, not since she went into the living facility. I was supposed to go there when I got here to check everything out. Only when I got outside, I chickened out.

I don’t know what my issue is with that house and why I can’t fathom going inside. Maybe because it was like a prison when I was a kid. It always felt like the walls were closing in on me and I couldn’t breathe. Because I learned exactly what disappointment was in that house, over and over and over again. And though we got by and my mother and I didn’t have a horrible relationship, my childhood was not great. Though, compared to Gabe’s, I think he wins the gold medal in that department.

Nothing significant happened in my childhood house to make me afraid of it. For the most part, my mother was loving and did her best with me. So I need to suck it up and just go. Get it over with. In fact, I should do it now.

Pulling out my phone, I order a ride share as I take the stairs two at a time to put on my shoes. I grab a granola bar from the cabinet and wait on the front porch for the car that takes me to my mother’s house, the house I grew up in, which is a twenty-minute drive. He stops on the opposite side of the street, and I get out, giving him a tip on the app as he drives off. Taking a deep breath, I look up, preparing to cross the street and go inside. Only my feet don’t move and my throat feels like it’s closing up.