Page 38 of Forever & Always You

I shuffle up closer, pressing my chest to his. Hooking my hand around the soft, freshly trimmed nape of his neck, I guide his mouth toward mine, but hesitate before I kiss him. Our gazes locked, I smile seductively and dare to whisper, “Can’t you just fuck me gently?”

Austin crashes his lips explosively to mine.

We should be downstairs, I know, but we can’t keep our hands off one another.

He backs me up hard against the wall and I swing my leg around his waist, hungrily undoing the button of his pants.

He traces a hand up my leg, my skin soft and moisturized, and hikes up the fabric of my dress.

Turning me around, he presses me onto the bed.

I lean on my arms, refusing to bury my face into the sheets.

I didn’t have a breakdown applying these eyelashes for nothing.

Austin positions himself behind me, moves my panties to one side, and enters me fully in one solid thrust. Now my eyes do roll back in my head, because it’s pure heaven.

Quickies are so hot. Nothing but desire and passion and an insatiable hunger.

Austin’s strokes are fast but careful, and with each thrust forward, a gasped breath leaves my lips.

“Shit, I’m going to come already,” Austin groans. “You look so good and you feel even better.”

“Don’t come on my dress,” I warn.

“Then open that pretty mouth.”

Austin pulls out and I follow his very clear instruction.

Pushing myself up from the bed, I turn around and drop to my knees on the floor in front of him.

One hand of his is back on my jaw, the other finishes himself off.

I tilt my head back and lock my eyes on his, but he can barely look at me without a moan rising in his throat.

“You and that red lipstick .?.?.” he mutters, and I part those stained red lips of mine, stick out my tongue, and swallow every last drop as he comes. “You’re my favorite girl in the world, Gabby.”

“I’d like to think so,” I say, placing my hands in his as he pulls me to my feet. Just as I wipe away a smudge of red lipstick from his lips, his phone rings from across the room.

Austin dashes over to grab it while buttoning up his pants and tucking his shirt back in, and when I check out my reflection in the mirror, I don’t look too disheveled at all.

“We’re on our way down right now,” Austin says into his phone, then hangs up and hastily shoves it into his pocket. He reaches for my hand and tugs me toward the door. “Quick, everyone is seated.”

“ Seated? ” I repeat, feeling the color drain from my face.

Great. How do I walk into an entire ballroom late without blushing because I was upstairs in the hotel room getting frisky?

I grab my clutch as we leave and we hurry down the hallway to the elevator.

“Who was that, anyway? One of your associates?”

“No, my mom.”

“Your parents are here?” I hiss, because can’t a girl get a heads-up when she’s about to spend the evening with her boyfriend’s parents who hate her?

“Of course they’re here,” Austin says, repeatedly smashing the button for the hotel lobby as though that’ll get us there quicker. “I thought you’d know that? Don’t worry. They’re under strict orders to be nice.”

I don’t respond. Between the race to get to the ballroom and this new knowledge of Austin’s parents being here, I am now a complete and utter nervous wreck.

I quickly touch up my lipstick before we spring out of the elevator.

Austin’s hand finds mine and he hurries me along in my heels through the lobby.

The ballroom doors are closed, and when Austin pushes them open, an entire sea of faces swivels toward us.

Fire. That’s what my cheeks feel like right now. A raging, scorching fire.

The crowd is silent as a woman gives a welcome speech up front next to giant digital screens, and I keep my head down low as Austin weaves the way through the circular tables toward ours.

Above the floral table centerpiece, there’s a sign that says “ Pierce Wealth Management.” We slot into the two empty chairs and when I build the courage to glance up, the very first person I catch eyes with is Austin’s mother.

Her mouth is a bold line and she is so very clearly unimpressed.

Walking into this ballroom late with her son is doing me no favors when it comes to winning her over, because I’m certain it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what we could possibly have been up to.

This is confirmed when my gaze shifts to Helen and she flashes me a knowing smile.

Lord, save me.

Austin’s hand finds mine beneath the table and he offers it a reassuring squeeze as we focus ahead at the woman hosting the event.

I swear I don’t hear a single word she says because my ears are ringing so loud.

Numbly, I join in the applause when the rest of the ballroom claps, and then the musings of hundreds of voices rises through the room.

There will be a meal first before the awards presentation, which means for the next hour or two I am required to make small talk with Austin’s parents and his associates.

“You missed the canapés and champagne,” Caroline, Austin’s mother, says in disapproval. “Where were you two?”

“Time got away from us,” Austin says casually, and he reaches for the bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice in the center of the table.

He fills my glass, his own, then tops off the rest of the table’s glasses.

“Let’s toast,” he says, holding up his flute of champagne.

“Thank you all for being here tonight. Mom, Dad, thanks for always pushing me to be the best I can be. Helen, thanks for keeping my diary in check. Alison, Craig, Tyler, thanks for trusting in my vision strongly enough to come on board and be a part of it. Gabrielle,” he says, eyes fastening on me with a smile so pure it makes everyone else in this ballroom disappear, “thank you for reminding me that life doesn’t have to be so serious all of the time.

It can also be about Marvel movie marathons, picking out toys for the shelter dogs, and making pancakes on Sundays. ”

“Cheers,” we all say in unison, clinking glasses.

Austin’s parents, however, are still miffed.

I get the vibe they weren’t given the heads-up about my presence here tonight either, but perhaps this will be a good thing.

Maybe they’ll see I’m not that bad, that I’m here because I support and care for Austin, and I’d never, ever do anything to hurt him again.

So, I’m on my best behavior.

As we sit through the three-course meal, I dip in and out of conversations with the rest of the table, showing interest and asking questions with Austin’s associates and their partners.

I don’t refill my champagne flute that often, because the last thing I want is to lose all inhibitions.

I also don’t talk too much, because I have a bad habit of making too many crass jokes that most likely only Austin would find the humor in.

Tonight, I am polite, shy, and hopefully forgivable.

By the time the meal wraps up and the awards ceremony gets rolling, Caroline and Mike’s icy demeanors seem to have thawed, though I’m pretty sure Mike is just straight-up wasted.

Austin, Helen and the other advisors become increasingly nervous as the host works through each award category until she reaches the final award.

Pierce Wealth Management is nominated for Best New Business, and as the nominees for the category are read out, I swear all five of them hold their breath.

Now it’s my turn to squeeze Austin’s hand under the table. “Good luck,” I whisper.

The host opens an envelope and leans forward into the mic. “And the Best New Business Award this year goes to .?.?. Pierce Wealth Management!”

Applause fills the room, but our table is the loudest. Mike thumps the table in celebration, while Caroline jumps to her feet and cheers with pride.

Austin slips his hand around my waist as I wrap him in a brief hug with an immense amount of self-restraint not to kiss him.

He buttons his tux jacket and exchanges congratulatory handshakes with his associates before they all head toward the stage to collect the award.

They each say a few words, then get ushered out of the ballroom to have professional pictures taken.

As the lights dim and music plays through giant speakers, the atmosphere in the ballroom relaxes, yet I am far from relaxed because I feel so vulnerable without Austin here to have my back.

I reach for a bottle of champagne to top up my glass in order to keep my hands busy, but Caroline slides over into the empty seat Austin has left beside me.

“More champagne?” I offer with a polite smile despite the tightness in my chest, but Caroline shakes her head no. Her solemn expression is unnerving, so I fill my own glass and take the high road. “How amazing that they won, right? I’m so proud of Austin.”

And the decent thing would be to agree with me, to make civil conversation and remain pleasant, but no—Caroline simply says, “I don’t think you should be here.”

I look at her with indignation. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think you should be here,” she repeats. Her eyes dart around the room, perhaps scanning for Austin making his return to the table, and when she doesn’t spot him, she scoots in even closer to me. In a low, tortured voice, she says, “You broke him, Gabby.”

“Caroline—”

“Listen to me,” she cuts in sharply, holding up her hand to silence me.

“You think we are holding a grudge against you over some playground games, and maybe that’s all it was to you, but you have no idea .

.?.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and sucks in a breath.

“No idea at all what you put him through. We were so happy he’d made a friend when we first moved into your neighborhood, but as the years went on, our lovely, happy boy became a shell of himself.

A seventeen-year-old should be enjoying their senior year, attending football games, and getting tipsy on beer for the first time.

Instead he’d come home from school with these empty, ghostly eyes and shut himself away in his room all evening.

And I know it wasn’t just you, Gabby. I know there were a lot of cruel kids at school, but he had such a soft spot for you.

You broke so much trust with him. You made him question what he did wrong.

You made him ask himself what the point was.

He didn’t deserve that, Gabrielle, and to let him believe he was taking you to prom .

.?. It was the height of cruelty, and you broke him. ”

My heart malfunctions, seizing up in my chest. “I know.”

“And you show up now, all these years later, when he’s happy and confident and successful.

How can I trust that you won’t break him down all over again?

How do I accept the girl who once had me holding my teenage son in my arms as he cried his poor little heart out?

You have no idea how much it took for Mike and me to pull him out of the hole he was in. ”

Caroline visibly seethes with contempt, but I reach for her hand in her lap and grip it tight. “Caroline, I know there aren’t enough words to convey just how deep my apologies are, but I promise .?.?. I promise with everything in me that I will not hurt him again.”

“And how do you expect me to believe that?” she whispers, pulling her hand free of mine.

“Because I’m falling in love with him,” I splutter.

There is no hesitation when I say it, only frustration.

I’m falling in love with him , and his parents don’t believe me, and they’re going to push me away and ruin everything.

“I want to support him at award ceremonies whether he wins or loses, I want to wait for him at the finish line of marathons, I want to make terrible jokes around him because it took me far too long to realize his laugh is my favorite sound in the world. Please, Caroline,” I beg, my eyes wide with desperation. “Please let me make him happy.”

Caroline’s eyes drift over my shoulder as a flicker of guilt crosses her features. I twist around, and my entire body stiffens when Austin’s gaze meets mine.