Cady
It’s dark outside, but I have every light in Gia’s apartment on even though I know it would help with my headache if it’s less bright. I’m curled in a ball with the heating pad on my stomach and a bottle of ibuprofen, a quart of blue Gatorade, a bag of oyster crackers, and a can of ginger ale on the coffee table.
Her black cat, Mario, sits at my feet, while the orange one, Peach, is curled and cuddled against the warmth coming from the heating pad. I’m the most comfortable I’ve been all day and can’t wait to fall asleep for the night because I know when I wake up, I’ll feel much better.
The TV is on, but so low I can barely hear it over the surprisingly loud purr of Peach. I’m actually grateful Gia is out of town because I am not good company right now. When she asked me if I could take care of her cats, of course I said yes.
I have no problem hanging out with her kitties, but what I wasn’t planning on was sleeping here. However, when she left this morning, they meowed at the door as if they knew they were going to be alone more than usual. I could hear them all the way from my apartment. Poor kitties.
So after I ate dinner, I went to her place with the intention of feeding them and then crawling in my bed for the night, praying that when I woke up, I’d feel better, which is usually the case.
Today is an unusually bad day. It’s bad every month, but this time is the worst. A sharp, stabbing pain slices through my stomach, and I clench my teeth, but that makes my headache worse.
I took four ibuprofen an hour ago on top of Midol, and it didn’t even help.
When I whimper, Peach jumps off the couch, and I actually miss the pressure she’s putting on the heating pad.
I think about leaving to go to my own bed where I can curl up with my body pillow that I sleep with because it’s the most comfortable thing ever. Plus, when I’m cramping and having my horrible monthly symptoms like right now, it helps that I can relieve the pressure on my lower back by hitching a leg over the top of it.
But I’ll feel bad if I leave the cats, and if I do try to go home, I’ll be worried they’ll be sad, and then I’ll probably hear them meowing, which means I’ll just end up back here anyway. So I’m stuck here. Whatever.
Knowing it’s not going to get better, I reach for the remote to turn up the volume on the TV. After flicking through the channels, I stop on the Hallmark Channel and get lost in a movie marathon.
I don’t care that the stories are predictable or that they’re all pretty much the same because I love them. Partly because some of them are books turned into movies, but mostly because I’m a sucker for all things romance. Fictional, of course.
It’s during a commercial when I just get back from the kitchen with the tub of ice cream that I brought over when it happens. I have the spoon with a heaping scoop of chocolate chunk in my mouth when I hear a key in the door.
Gia just left in the morning and won’t be home for at least two weeks, so I know it’s not her. A chill snakes its way down my spine that has nothing to do with ice cream and causes the hairs on my arms to stand up. The doorknob jiggles, and I stand from the couch, the cramp in my stomach making me whimper. If it wasn’t for that, the fear would cripple me.
I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I look around for a weapon. I’m in so much pain there’s no way I could defend myself, but still, I find anything I can use; a lamp, a book, a candle.
Luckily, I can see the door from where I am because when it swings open and Gabriel Hunter struts in, over six feet of trimmed muscle and tattoos, I fall on my ass. The soft couch cushions my fall, but the jostling movement makes everything hurt so badly that I let out a moan of intense pain.
My eyes never leave him, though, and at the noise, his head whips up, and he pushes the door closed. “What the fuck?”
I don’t say anything back, not because I don’t want to, but because it’s physically impossible, what with a spoon hanging out of my mouth and rendering me speechless.
He moseys closer, and I brace when his thick, dark eyebrows sink down, forming a V. The deep brown of his eyes seems somehow lighter than what I thought they’d be in person, and those beautiful irises dart down to my socks that go up to my knees with books all over them, up my bare thighs, past the tub of ice cream covering my chest, and finally land back on my flushed for more than one reason face.
Then I prepare myself because he looks pissed, and I don’t know what the hell is going on. “Who are you?”
I pull the spoon out of my mouth, sliding my tongue over the cold metal before I stab it into the quart of what could pass as soft serve at this point.
I swallow loudly. “Who are you?” I know who he is, of course. God, do I know who he is. But I don’t know why he’s in Gia’s apartment, which is what I really want to ask.
“I asked first.” He tosses his duffel on the floor next to the coffee table and crosses his tattooed arms.
From playing the guitar, I know those muscles in his forearms get worked and worked hard. And nothing is hotter than when they’re making beautiful music. It takes a lot of internal pep talking, but I manage to rip my eyes from his fantastic biceps.
He must get impatient because he tells me, “I’m Gianna’s brother.”
I know. “I’m her neighbor.”
He tilts his head, his eyes move down my body and back up, and then he licks his lips. His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and the look he gives me makes me melt. “Hi.”
Oh, God. I clear my throat. “Hi. Why are you here?”
“I’m taking care of her cats.”
I fight against the pounding in my head. “But she asked me. I’m taking care of her cats.”
“Funny, since I’m here.”
Not only am I not in the mood, but I want to be anywhere else in the world that’s not in the same room as him. The man I’ve crushed on since I was a teenager. The shock of seeing the guy I’ve dreamed about for years is the only thing keeping me from embarrassing myself. It’s going to wear off, and I’m sure I’ll say something idiotic. “I’ll just go home.” Then I stand. Fast… definitely too fast because the room spins and a barb shoots through my skull. The bucket of ice cream slips from my hand and plops to the floor, and I squeeze my eyes closed and fall back to the couch, whimpering as my ass hits the cushion. I double over from the cramp in my uterus.
“Whoa. Are you okay?” I don’t lift my head but hear him with concern in his voice and know he’s closer. I can smell the spiced, woodsy leather. God, this is embarrassing.
“Yeah.” I take a breath through my lips. “Just got dizzy.” When I stand, his fingers curl around my arm. The touch sears me, and I react so violently, I fall back down, trembling and breathless. Of all the ways I wanted Gabriel’s hands all over me, while I’m in the middle of some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced is definitely not in the top one thousand ways I fantasized about.
“Hey, hey.” He crouches in front of me, and his calloused hands grab my thighs. His touch goes from searing to on fire, and I’m surprised I don’t see smoke. “Relax.”
I nod, sucking in air to mask the pain.
“Are you sick or something?”
There is no way I’m telling him that my uterus is torturing me before it kills me. “Or something.”
His eyes stay trained on me while reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his phone, then putting it to his ear. “Yeah, Gianna. Care to tell me why the fuck you ask me to watch your stupid cats, and I come here to do it and there’s already someone here? Yeah, she’s here. Who else did you ask, Jesus? I would, but despite what you think, I ain’t that much of a dick I’m gonna do that. Because she’s sick or something and looks like shit.” He winces and holds the phone away from his face. “No offense.”
“None taken.” I press my lips together.
He smiles without really smiling before he stands and lumbers into the kitchen. I can hear the murmurs of Gia’s voice coming through the receiver but can’t actually hear the words. “What-the fuck-ever, I told you I would. No, I can’t. I rented it out while you were gone and figured I’d just crash here. Yeah, it went that fast. It’s the week before Christmas, Gianna; there’s a damn waiting list.”
As he’s talking, I pick the ice cream up from the floor, thanking my lucky stars that it didn’t leak all over the place.
“Fuck no, I’m not going to Mom and Dad’s. Jamie sold his place, no way. Fine. Okay. Yeah, I know. You, too.” His voice gets softer. “Hold on.” He comes to me and holds out his phone. I stare at him. Then at his face, so close, so handsome. He nudges it at me. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, right.” I take his phone, and when our fingers graze, our eyes connect at the contact. His pupils flare, and under the intensity, I swallow. Then I snap out of it when I hear Gia’s muffled voice and hold the phone to my ear. “Hey.” I look down at my feet and wish my hair wasn’t in a pony tail so it could cover my face.
“Are you sick?”
“Uh, kind of.”
“God, I’m so sorry. I got in a fight with him when I asked him to take care of my cats, and I thought he wasn’t going to. But Gabriel’s there now, so you can go home to your bed.”
I glance up from under my lashes at Gabriel, who’s stepped back and is now leaning on the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, intently and unabashedly watching me. My heart gallops. “Yeah, he is. I will.”
“Okay, feel better. And if you need anything, just ask Gabriel. He’s kind of a jerk sometimes, but I know he’d help you out.”
The idea of asking him for anything freaks me out. “No, I won’t need to. I’ll be fine.” I’m trying to play it cool even though my nerves have made me feel nauseous. My stomach is fluttering with anticipation that will never be fulfilled. A desire that will never fade. I can’t believe he’s standing in front of me.
The truth be told, it irritates me that the whole time I’ve known Gia, she never told me about her brother. I mean, he’s a guitarist for one of the hottest rock bands in the history of ever.
And I would know.
How do you not mention that at some point? He never got brought up in any way other than the rare mention of her having a brother.
In her defense, I’ve never told her who my dad was or that I have a stepbrother, so I really have no right to be upset with her. Since she never told me, I assumed she was hiding it for a reason, so I didn’t push.
“I hate that you’re sick and I’m not home, so before you go, get his number so you can call him if you need something.” Yeah, that’s not happening. “So sorry you had to waste your time at my place.”
“Gia, it’s not a waste of time. I love your cats. They’re sweet, and I’d hate for them to be alone, so it really is no problem.”
“You’re the best. Talk soon.”
With sweaty palms, I hang up, and I set the phone on the table. No way am I handing it back and risking touching him again. “I’m just going to go back to my place.”
He doesn’t move a muscle, except for the ones that controls his vision, because he’s studying me. I shrink into myself from his scrutiny and become paralyzed. “No, you’re not.”
“I… I’m not?”
“No. Not until you get better.”
I want to shake my head, but I know if I do, I’ll get dizzy. “I’m fine.”
“Woman, you got so dizzy you could barely even stand. I’ll just hang with you till I know you’re not gonna pass out. Then you can go home.”
Immediately, I reply, “I’m not gonna pass out.”
He tilts his head at the desperation in my voice, and his eyes soften. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“I… okay. I’m not really worried about that. It’s just, I don’t want to be in your space and—”
“It’s not my space. It’s Gianna’s. Look, it’s late, and I’m wiped. I’m just gonna chill and watch a movie or something anyway. No sense in you running out when that’s exactly what you were doing before I got here.” He’s been heading toward me the entire time he’s been speaking, so he’s right in front of me now. He holds his hand out. “Can I have my phone?” I tilt my head back, my lips parting at how close he is, and I hear a low rumble come from his throat.
I look at his cell on the table, then raise my eyes up to capture his. Instead of him lifting the phone off the table himself, I reach over and grab it.
When I hand it back, I do it with just the tips of my fingers, but his long ones graze my skin again, and I can’t hide the gasp. “Yeah,” he mumbles, but I don’t think he’s talking to me, so I don’t respond. Not that I could. There’s a tic in his jaw when he tucks his phone away. “You done with your ice cream?” He licks his lips before he concludes, “It’s melting.”
“Yeah, you’re hot.” Oh, my god.
He smirks knowingly.
“I mean, it’s hot in here. The heating pad and stuff. It’s warm, so the ice cream melted fast.”
He contemplates me for a brief second before he reaches past me to grab it, and his leathery spice assaults my senses. I know I’ll remember that smell for the rest of my life. Just as I know I’ll remember the way his face softens when he smiles until the day I die.
“Stay on the couch,” he orders, and for some reason, I comply as though I’m a dog. But when the love of your life tells you to do something, you do it.
Gia has an awesome couch. Both ends recline and lean back. Before Gabriel got here, I was lying on the length of the couch because I could see the TV better from my side that way. No way in hell am I going to do that again, so I pull the lever on my side and push the recliner partly back so my body lies flatter. It’s not as comfortable, but it’ll do until I bide my time, and I can leave.
Gabriel returns from putting the ice cream in the freezer, kicks off his shoes, tosses his kick-ass leather jacket on top of his duffel bag, then plops down on the couch. “What are you watching?”
I glance at the TV when the two main characters finally kiss and am mortified. Yeah, it’s totally PG, but that’s not something I wanted on the screen with him right next to me. I should have been paying attention to that instead of watching him.
“Uh, just a Christmas movie. You can change it.” Then I throw the remote at him. Throw it. Not toss gently or even give a heads-up. He doesn’t see it coming, so when it hits him in the crotch, he winces. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” I apologize in complete mortification as I cringe at the pain on his face.
With straight lips, he picks up the controller and points it at the TV. “It’s okay. Wasn’t planning on using my dick tonight anyway.”
Oh, God. Mortification causes my neck and face to become impossibly hot, and once again I wish I had my hair down so I could hide the flush from him. I know I’m not as pretty as the girls he’s used to, but he doesn’t need to say it. I already know he’s better than me, and somebody like him would never go for somebody like me. But hearing him actually say it out loud is like a part of me just died. I have very few things to look forward to in life, but the fantasy that I’d end up with him was one of them.
I think every girl has that famous guy who she crushed on when she was younger and dreamed about living happily ever after with. And when they get old enough to realize that life is not a movie, and the movie star isn’t going to magically come to your school and sweep you off your feet, it feels a lot like death.
And up until right now, I still had the unrealistic dream, but he just took it away.
Crushed my fantasy into dust.
Obliterated any hope I had, no matter how silly.
“Shit. I didn’t mean it that way, babe. Not that I wouldn’t want to fuck you… you’re pretty. Just that… ya know?”
No. I have no clue. And it makes it worse that he has to give me a false compliment. “I really should just go.”
“You’re staying,” he commands, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
I sit completely still as he flips through the channels, and when Peach jumps in my lap, I hide the squeal of pain but enjoy her warmth on my belly. And I welcome her distraction. I stroke her under her chin until she rests her head and closes her eyes.
“This okay?” Gabe’s voice startles me, and my body gives an involuntarily jolt.
I glance at the screen to see another Christmas movie, but one that’s classic and funny. “Yeah.”
He yanks the lever to recline his seat. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he rests one arm behind his head and settles into the cushions. He turns his neck and catches me staring. Amusement flickers in his eyes, and I jerk my head straight.
“This is my favorite Christmas movie.”
I won’t let myself look at him for fear I’ll never be able to look away. “Yeah, it’s a good one.”
“Not your favorite?”
“No.”
“What’s your favorite?”
I don’t even have to think about the answer. “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
No longer able to avoid him, I turned my head with parted lips and wide eyes. “You what?”
“I’ve never seen it,” he repeats.
“That’s… that’s wrong.”
He raises a brow. “It is?”
“Yes. It’s like, a crime or something.”
With a slow, sexy quirk of his lips, he smirks, and it’s at this moment that I went from having a crush that felt a lot like love to falling madly in love with Gabriel Hunter. Because never in a million years did I imagine that I would make him smile, and never ever did I think it would make my weighted down heart soar.
“Not sure about that.”
I swallow the nerves and answer. “Maybe not, but everyone should see that movie at least once in their life.”
For a moment, he studies me intently. “What’s your name?”
“Cady. With a C.” I nibble on my lip. “And a dy.”
“Cady.” He tests the word on his tongue, and I taste it all the way across the couch. “Cady with a C. And a dy. I like it.” He raises his brows. “Do you want to know my name?”
“You’re Gabriel Hunter.” He inclines his head, and I recover quickly when I explain. “Gia said your name… uh, and her last name is Hunter, so I just assumed.” But it’s a total lie.
His unfocused gaze turns skeptical, but still, he mutters, “Right.” It’s as if he can see through me, and that reminds me I’m wearing booty shorts. I swallow nervously as I reach for a blanket from the back of the couch, then toss it over my legs. He stares at the fluffy throw, then shoots me a look that makes me question whether my panties would be burned off or not when I removed the blanket. It’s so dark, so hot, but so confusing. I decide to ignore it and cuddle into a pillow, pretending he’s not here. Even though he’s been on my mind every day for over ten years.