She was taking her first glorious sip when she heard the toilet flush upstairs. Odd, it was the hall bathroom closer to her parents’ room. The pipes made a different sound in that one. Maybe Gabe didn’t want to wake her up?
It was barely 6 A.M., and for Gabe, it would be three hours behind. She stayed quiet, sipping her tea slowly. He would probably go back to bed. But then the ceiling creaked overhead, followed by the sound of footsteps moving toward the stairs.
Setting the mug on the counter, Michelle left the kitchen to greet him, intending to ask if he wanted tea or coffee. She hadn’t thought he’d be up yet, so she’d made only the one cup for herself.
“Morni—” she started, then stopped short when she saw Gabe, frozen mid-step, right on the middle stair that always creaked.
He was already fully dressed . . . and carrying his suitcase.
Surprise and a rising wave of anger made her heart pound.
Eyes narrowed, Michelle propped a hand on her hip. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
Oh god, she sounded just like her mother.
And like a teenager caught sneaking out—because really, what else could he be doing?—Gabe cringed. His shoulders hunched up near his ears and his lips parted in a grimace.
“Um . . .”
He seemed to be at a loss for words, but despite the early hour and minimal caffeine, Michelle was not. Besides, she didn’t need an explanation. His intention was clear.
This motherfucker was leaving her again.
Michelle stomped to the bottom of the stairs and glared up at him. “You’re sneaking out. Don’t even try to make up some bullshit excuse.”
Gabe’s eyes flashed, anger rising in their dark depths, and he straightened, setting the suitcase down on the step beside him. “I’m leaving.”
Michelle scoffed and crossed her arms under her breasts. “Yeah, I can see that. You’re really fucking good at it.”
His gaze flickered to her breasts. She hadn’t put on a bra yet, and her pose had pushed up her ample tits.
Her nipples tightened as she thought of how, the last time she’d seen him, he’d had his hands and mouth on her breasts. She adjusted her stance slightly to make sure he could see the points of her nips poking through the thin fabric of her sleep tank. Why should she be the only one plagued by sexually frustrating memories? Besides, she was pissed.
“Get your ass back upstairs,” she said, in a tone that brooked no argument.
Gabe’s lips tightened, and he gave her an exasperated look, one she remembered well. It was the look that said he thought she was being a bitch but wouldn’t dare tell her so.
And fine. Maybe she was. She hadn’t told him they’d be staying here, suspecting that he never would have agreed to it if he’d known about the change in plans. But she’d also hoped that the familiar surroundings, the nostalgia, would bring them closer together than staying in a bland hotel room would.
Well, so much for that.
Gabe picked up the suitcase but instead of going back up, he started down the rest of the stairs. “Michelle, you know I can’t stay here.”
She held her ground and used the only leverage she had. “What I know is that you agreed to stay with me in exchange for me taking on this project.”
He came to a stop where she blocked the bottom of the stairs like Gandalf on the bridge declaring, You shall not pass. They faced each other, him towering over her from his greater height and the added boost from the last step, her gazing up at him with nothing but cleavage and chutzpah as her weapons of choice.
Michelle fought a shiver of awareness. He was so close, the sleepy annoyance in his eyes too fucking endearing. And she was wearing practically nothing, just a thin tank top and little shorts. Her pulse fluttered, and she saw he was breathing hard too. She didn’t think it was from exertion, since he was still holding the suitcase like it weighed less than Jezebel had when she was a kitten.
“I agreed to stay with you in Manhattan,” he said, breaking into her thoughts before she could undress him with her eyes. “I did not agree to stay with you here.”
“So you’re leaving again.” Michelle couldn’t help the emotion in her voice, although she would have banished it if she could. “Just like that. Without a word.”
“Michelle. You lied to me about where we’d be staying.”
Ah, so they were on Michelle now instead of Mich. He must really be mad. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. Maybe she hadn’t set out to deceive him, but in the end, that’s what she’d done. Still, she wasn’t letting him go without a fight.
“What were you going to do? Sneak out while I was asleep, call for a car, and have them drop you off at a hotel?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” From his defensive tone and the look on his face, she could tell she’d hit the nail on the head.
“You’re supposed to stay and deal with your problems instead of running away again,” she shot back. “You and I have a lot of unfinished business, Gabe.”
He stepped down to the floor and set his suitcase beside him. Michelle didn’t back up, though, and the move left them toe to toe, both breathing hard.
Her heart thumped at his nearness, at the spark of anger in his dark eyes. Maybe it was perverse, but she liked him like this, pissed off and prickly. The Gabe she’d known had shied away from conflict, never raised his voice, and let her take the upper hand in all their arguments. This Gabe wasn’t backing down, and it was as sexy as it was infuriating.
He leaned down to look her right in the eye. In a deceptively soft voice, he asked, “Do you know why I left?”
“No, I don’t know why!” The memories flooded back—the betrayal, the hurt. How much she’d missed him. The missing had been like a sickness, taking up permanent residence in the pit of her stomach. “You didn’t even talk to me about it.”
“I did, actually.” His jaw was like granite. “I tried to talk to you about my parents. But every time I brought it up, you defended them. You didn’t see that I was drowning here. If you had, it wouldn’t have surprised you that I wanted to leave.”
“Fuck your parents!” She pressed her hands to her face, embarrassed by the outburst. “Sorry, I don’t mean that. But this isn’t about them. You also abandoned me.”
In a nervous move she remembered, he took off his Yankees cap and smoothed a hand over his hair. “I had to get away from here, get out of this life.”
“That doesn’t explain why you ghosted me.” Her voice hitched, and she hated it. “It doesn’t explain why you didn’t reply when I reached out, why you—”
“Michelle.” Gabe interrupted her tirade and wrapped his fingers gently around her wrists. She hadn’t even noticed she’d been waving her hands around. His thumbs stroked her skin, right over her pulse, and she calmed slightly.
“I needed a clean break, and you . . .” He let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. “You were the only person with the power to drag me back here.”
The silence that followed his words settled onto her skin, making her feel tight and tense.
“Why?” she whispered.
He released her wrists. “What do you want from me, Mich?” He sounded tired. Defeated.