Page 28

Chapter 28

How It Feels To Be Loved

Gabe

“So let me get this straight.”

On-screen, Indi finishes three gulps from the straw of her giant water bottle, exhales audibly, and shakes her head. “Neither you nor Wade have said ‘I love you’ yet?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t you trust him?”

More than anyone.

“With my whole heart.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

A whiny groan vibrates in my throat. “Words are hard.”

She responds with her signature eye roll, then winces, adjusting her focus to the squirming baby below the view of my phone camera before glaring at me. “You know what? I actually don’t blame you. You’ve been through enough. He should say it first. Like, what’s his deal?”

My shoulders shrug.

“Chicken.”

A grayed-out rectangle labeled BI comes to life with Behraz’s face. “Who’s making chicken? What’d I miss?”

“No one,” Indi replies. “Nothing to note here, other than figuring out why two people clearly nuts about one another are unable to admit they’re in love.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Bea says. “You were the same with Landon.”

My fingers snap and wag at the little hypocrite. “Hey, that’s true. The rest of us knew pretty early on while you hung back in a deep state of denial.”

“ Shhh, you.” Indi’s lips purse. “You’re disturbing the baby.”

“Anyone wanna ask me how I’m doing?” Bea’s lower lip juts in a frowning pout.

“Sorry. How are you? It’s been a while.” I wave. “I was so sad that we left before you made it to the birthing center.”

“Oh, God. What a disaster of a day.” She lowers her head as the heels of her hands find her temples before she whips up suddenly. “Not because of the baby. We love baby Akhila.” She makes tickle fingers toward the camera. “I wanna squeeze our precious girl. That’s the day I found out I didn’t pass the bar.”

“What!” Indi straightens.

Mouth pulling into a cringe, she groans. “Did I not tell you? Oops.”

“That sucks. Can you retake it?” I ask.

“Yeah, but not until the fall.”

“Bummer.”

Behraz slaps the air and sputters. “Nah, it’s not a big deal. I’m not the best test-taker, but still. It’s open book and multiple choice. How hard could it be? I’ll study harder, better, faster, stronger…”

Indi and I stare in awe as she trails off, singing the lyrics to Daft Punk’s “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” and doing the robot in her seat.

Whenever she loses the plot like this, we don’t interrupt, and she usually circles back to it.

Sometimes, I wonder what’s going on in her head because, from the outside, it seems like a dozen hamsters run in their wheels at different paces. Or maybe I can’t keep up.

“Anyway,” she returns. I expect more of an explanation about her plan, but it’s left hanging. “Oh! Sorry, my brother’s calling. Talk to you guys later!”

“She’s something else.”

“Tell me about it.” Indi adjusts the claw clip in her hair with a single hand. “Hold on.” She leans forward, this time pulling Akhila into view. “Hi, Masi!”

“Move your big head; it’s casting a shadow on her!” Cute aggression wins, and I gibber nonsense at the milk-drunk, sweet angel. “There’s my cutie baby.”

“I need to burp her but wait…” She tilts her ear toward Akhila’s mouth. “She wants to tell you something.”

Indi intermittently tugs on my niece’s tiny chin so her mouth moves as if talking, using a high-pitched tone for a baby voiceover. “Gabe Masi, if you don’t tell Wade Uncle you love him very soon, I’ll make sure to have a naaaaasty diaper blowout every time you hold me.”

“Gross.” I frown.

“Do it! Or else!” Akhila commands.

“I love you, kid, but you’re kind of a dictator.”

“And don’t you forget it!” With that threat, her eyes close and head lulls.

Indi turns Akhila onto her shoulder and pats her back at a rhythm. She raises an eyebrow. “You heard what she said. When you love someone, you tell ‘em. I don’t make the rules.”

Wade and I wait for Doug as he stops to investigate every fallen tulip petal along the Rideau Canal’s path. Their peak bloom has passed, and the colors have faded, but even in the early morning air, there’s a brightness between us, a warmth shared in our clasped hands.

It’s the perfect moment.

Say it, Finch. Three little words.

Doug whines.

“You hungry, buddy?” Wade rubs the top of the golden retriever’s head. “Me too.”

“Me three.”

“Hear that, Dougie?” Doug woofs back softly. “We gotta get our girl fed before I take you back to your parents.” Dimples flank his upturned lips. “There’s a bakery I’ve been meaning to try.”

The smell of coffee and fresh-baked goods wafts past as we approach the door.

“Here it is.”

“A cafe named Freckles ?” My eyes narrow at the storefront’s window signage. “Is that why you brought me here?”

“Maybe,” he says through a smile. “It’s cute, right?”

I try not to give him the satisfaction, but it’s impossible. My comeback doesn’t match the heat on my cheeks or the width of my smile. “You’re so cheesy.”

He opens the door with a bow. “After you, m’lady.”

I step through.

Baskets of various breads line the back wall, baguettes alongside loaves of rye, and brioche. A selection of croissants, pain au chocolat, and eclairs are organized in neat rows. Mille- feuille, madeleines, cream puffs, various tarts, and macarons join non-traditionally French items: donuts, Danishes, and cupcakes in a glass encasing.

“Figured I’d bring you somewhere you understand the French language.”

I lob a playful smack against his solid bicep. “Rude.”

“Monsieur, mademoiselle?” The young woman behind the counter addresses us. When Wade answers, and they continue in French, I zone out.

We take our mugs of coffee and croissants over to a table across from the display case. Doug noisily scarfs down his complimentary doggy treat, a sugar-free peanut butter cookie, then places his crumby snout in my lap.

“You and Doug get the same look in your eyes when you beg.”

“Are you calling me a dog?”

I stay tight-lipped. “I’m saying there are similarities.”

“Oh, for sure. We’re both adorable, loyal?—”

“Needy—”

He ignores my addition to his list. “And don’t mind begging for a worthwhile meal.”

“How do you manage to make everything about sex?”

“It’s a gift.”

“Truly.”

“On that note, what do you think of this place?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” I eye the cupcakes. “Ticks all the boxes for a French bakery; the cupcakes are pretty basic.”

“You could help them with that.”

“Oh, sure .” Sarcasm laces my inflection as I lodge a bite of croissant into my cheek. “It won’t be presumptuous at all for me to go up there and offer unsolicited advice.”

“It’s your bakery; you can do whatever you want.”

Croissant flakes fall from my mouth, mid-chew. “It’s what?”

“It’s yours.”

“Since when?”

“Since I bought it for you.”

My hand covers the lower half of my face. “You bought me a bakery?”

“Yep.” The unbothered shit sips on his coffee.

“That’s…” I recline into the seat, mind reeling. “…this is nuts.”

“You like baking cupcakes but don’t want to deal with it en masse. This place is already well-staffed and has a lead baker, so you can be as involved as you want. Consider it your testing ground.”

“ Ahhh, now I see,” I tease. “You want me outta your kitchen.”

“Well, I tried to be nice about it, but you leave behind the biggest mess.”

This guy.

“Be serious.” My shoulders drop, and my head tilts to him before my gaze drops. “It’s too much.”

Wade places his coffee on the tabletop and retrieves my hand from where it strokes Doug’s soft ear. “It’s not enough. But if you don’t like it, I’ll get rid of it?—”

“No, don’t do that. I like it.”

“And me, Freckles? Do you like me?”

My heart sinks. Forget about love; I’ve never told him I like him. He has to know, right? How could he not know? Or maybe he knows but, like me, needs to hear it.

“Yeah, Wade. I like you.”

The stupid beating organ curses itself at the yearning in his eyes, so starved for the affirmation. It wants to tear open and reveal everything, but trips.

“Will you take me home, Wade?”

After a quick stop at the Kincaid-Jaegers to return Doug, Wade, and I wordlessly walk back to his penthouse.

Tension seethes as our eyes lock.

I lead him to the ensuite of his bedroom and prepare the shower, turning the handle until the water gently splashes to the floor.

My head tips up, reaching for a kiss, the contact slow and intentional. His warm mouth invites my tongue and returns drawn-out, dizzying swipes.

We part for a moment, but I don’t stop, kissing his brow, his eyes, his angled cheekbones. Adoring him. Air staggers out from the seam of his pinked, damp lips.

“Can I undress you?” I murmur.

“Yes.”

I peel away his leather jacket while resting my forehead against his chin. The worn cotton of his tee heats my flattened palms as I run them down his chest, then curl my fingers under the bottom hem. “Arms up.”

We detach so he can lift them over his head. I toss it aside and shed my shirt, exposing a simple black bralette.

“Wow,” Wade whispers, admiring as he slips his hands over my hips, then below the elastic of my sweatpants. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

I hush him with a finger on his lips but let him drag the pants over my ass and down my thighs to help me step out of them. His jeans unbutton easily in my grasp, and I ignore the hardened bulge in his soft boxer briefs as I remove everything below his waist. Impatient hands rid me of the remaining thong and bralette.

Tentative steps draw us into the steaming shower, the temperature ruthlessly hot.

We shift between the dual shower heads, sighing as the cascade washes over us. Wade throws a hungry look my way before stepping into my stream and latching his mouth to mine. Water sluices between our bodies, lips and tongues ravenous, feasting.

I get swept away for a moment, then remember.

“Wait.” My hands surround his cheeks. “I need to tell you something.”

He catches his breath and leans into my touch.

“I know I’m not innately nurturing or maternal…I’ve always craved the care of others to fill the void after losing my mom, but it either felt like I was asking too much or that whatever little I got was good enough because it was better than nothing.” Salty tears join the water wetting my face. “I’ve never really thought of caring for anyone else.”

Wade wipes away the saline mixture from my cheeks.

“Until you. I wanna take care of you, Wade. I want to be gentle, and tender, and rough if that’s what you need.”

His forehead kisses mine, sandwiching the drenched strands of his hair between us.

“Get on your knees.”

Brown eyes question, but he says nothing before kneeling between my feet.

I pull a bottle off the shelf and pump.

A foamy lather builds as I work the shampoo through the dark waves of his hair, like the ocean at midnight. He sways at the pressure of my fingers against his scalp.

“Gabe. Oh, my God .” Relief mutters through his throaty moan. “This is unbelievable.”

His grip around me tightens until his mouth collides with my lower belly, spreading short, open-mouthed kisses across it.

I cherish the feeling of his tongue gliding over a sensitive stretch of skin and hum while rinsing away the suds and replacing it with conditioner. The second scalp massage elicits the same response.

Melting at my touch.

The sharp, woodsy scent of his soap coats both of us as we wash and rinse one last time.

Rising to his feet reveals white and pink blotchy knees. I keep him still on a dry mat, running a towel over him, then myself. His cock bobs, the head a glossy wine red.

I position him at the edge of the bed and angle forward.

“Do me a favor?” His firm hand on my shoulder stops me from kissing him. “Fuck me like you love me.”

My head lolls to one side, so disappointed that I’ve still not told this endearing soul what he means to me. “Wade.”

“Pretend, Freckles,” he says, the sad lilt in his tone breaking my heart. His finger draws a spiral in my palm. “I wanna experience how it feels to be loved by Gabe Finch—just once.”

Every cell in my body screams at me to show mercy, to end his agony and mine.

Like a magnet, my mouth meets the smooth line of his jaw, the rigid column of his neck, the bone of his collar, the strong slope of his shoulder. Goosebumps and his content noises trail after every touch.

He relaxes into my encouraging push into the mattress, and I descend onto him, streaking fastidious, wet kisses across the firm squares of his chest, down the ravine of his sternum, and licking my way to one taut, mauve nipple.

My tongue lashes and lightly sucks, worshipping and worshipping until he writhes beneath me, hands balling the sheets. Then, I move to the other tightened peak.

Breathy groans of my name pool arousal between my thighs and glide the length of his cock between them with ease.

“Oh, God,” he whimpers as I use the ridged underside of his dick to rub my clit and spread a combined wetness up and down. His eyes skewer shut before snapping open again. “Condom?”

I hunch toward him, gasping as we lose connection. “If I loved you, I wouldn’t use one.”

“Fucking fuck. I get to feel you?”

I motion for him to straighten so a pillow supports his head, then straddle his torso once more.

“Please.” My hands seek his, fingers lacing together when they find them. “I want you to feel everything.”

A pair of our woven fingers jointly enter my soaked core, languid strokes prepping my walls. I watch his pupils blow wide and relish how his cock slaps against my ass. “How’s that?”

He mewls.

Setting his hands on my hips, I lie back, pumping his rock-hard shaft. It grows impossibly, leaking clear pre-cum into my fist.

Muscular thighs tense and shudder under mine as he strains for restraint and control. My knees lift, angling him over my desperate clit before lining up with the entrance. Wade’s vision struggles.

“Keep your eyes open,” I demand. “Watch me.”

The simultaneous gasp when the swollen tip stretches me. My nails bite into his chest, thighs floundering to take every inch. I rise until only the tip remains, then sink down, hoping for more. Wade says a bunch of bad words mashed together.

Sweat trickles down my back as I repeat the motion, sliding off and then piercing myself with his cock, again and again until I can bear the fullness, the thick curve inside my throbbing pussy. Pleasure sears through me, arching my spine and tossing my head, loose, wet ends of my hair shaking across my lower back.

Rocking my hips only builds it higher, an uncontrolled high keen launching from my throat.

His head sways side-to-side as I continue the lazy-paced ride. “Am I dead?”

I jolt through words, holding myself in place and laughing. “I hope not. Why would you say that?”

Wade’s teeth chatter, his fingers dimpling the flesh of my ass. “Because you feel like Heaven.” He urges my hips forward. “Don’t stop.”

I don’t.

Our hands shift, winding together once more. I press them against the pillow, our chests flush. It’s a stark contrast to last fall when I wanted distance and numbness. Now, I want to feel everything, too.

Heavy-lidded eyes stare back. I want him to know.

“You’re beautiful.”

His upper lip curls. He’s surprised.

“What? Has no one told you that?”

Wade denies it. A drumming pulse runs between our palms, the heated skin slippery. The caresses across his abs seem to take effect. His hips stutter below mine. I gasp again and fall forward.

“You’re beautiful,” I repeat, drawing the words against his full lips, “So, so beautiful.”

My mouth takes his, tasting his moans and swallowing every one, keeping it for myself.

The rhythm of my thrusts picks up, a crescendo into a gallop, the room all humid breaths and salty sweat. “Gabe, fuck— fuck , Gabe,” Wade prays my name. “Oh, my fucking— Gabe ? — ”

Pleasure cracks, then shatters through us, with a collective, leaden cry, hot spurts of his release filling me until it spills out. I quiver through the blistering high.

The ringing in my ears peters out, switching to Wade’s quick, steady heartbeat and panting breaths. I wait a few minutes before dismounting from his softened cock, rolling us until we’re a tangle of limbs.

A sniffle sounds out, rousing me from near-sleep.

Wade Boehner has tears in his eyes.

“Wade?”

“I’ll be right back,” he answers, removing himself from my hold and slinking off the mattress. He retrieves a pair of shorts from a drawer and skitters out the bedroom door while tugging them on.

What the fuck happened?

I burrito myself in the wayward sheets, wrapping and tucking it under my armpits before scuffling out to the living room.

He sits bent over on the couch, hands on his lowered head. I join him with a graceless plop, draping my arm around his shoulders.

“Wade, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yep. Yeah,” he answers with a series of nods, scrubbing his face.

“Because it doesn’t seem like?—”

“You know what?” A swift launch has him off the couch and facing me, agony wrinkling his face. “No, I’m not okay!”

I gulp.

“I’m fucking losing my mind , Gabe. All I see is you. First thing in the morning and right before I sleep.” His hands bury in his hair, tearing at the roots like a madman. “I look for you in every hotel room, every arena, every airplane and bus…” They release and extend toward me, pleading. “You’re who my heart wants. You . All of you.” He keeps ranting as I stand. “You, you, you, you, you. You live in my brain, and I don’t want you to leave. And I feel insane for dreaming up a future for us and wanting things you don’t, like I want to kick my own face in because I. Can’t. Have. You.”

“Wade,” I say gently. “You have me.”

Genuine shock wracks through him. “What about…?”

“What about what? I love you.”

His body goes lax at the admission, legs giving out as his ass hits another section of the couch. The lifted weight has my heart soaring.

I kneel and scoot between his feet. “Are you listening? I love you.”

“Me?” He points to himself. “ You love me ?”

My hand smacks his cheek lightly. “Yeah, you big dope . I love you . It’s so easy, too. How can anyone not love you?” I scoff to myself, remembering how I once thought I hated him.

“Oh, thank God.” He loosens further, stooping to cup my face. “I love you .”

Our noses sidle. “I know.”

“You know?”

“ Mmhm .” I nod. “I know you sold that godawful Lamborghini you loved because I hated it. I know you built that basketball court, so I’d spend more time here with you. I know you figured out all of my favorite things and offered them up to me because you love me. So yeah, I love you. Not because you did all those things but because you’re you. And I love you .” I let a pause break my train of thought. “Plus, you let me fuck you in the ass.”

Wade’s laughter rumbles from his heart, sincere and childlike. I cling to it, wanting to keep it forever. “In my defense, you let me do that, too.”

“Alright, alright, Pretty Boy. You gonna kiss me, or what?”

His lips brush mine, teasing a lick across the seam.

“Only if you kiss me first, Freckles.”

He’s mine, so I do.