Chapter 19

It's been three weeks since I've spoken to Gabe. I've seen him. He crawls into my bed every night, and I slide right into his arms. Neither of us says a word. We just… go to sleep. That's it. Just sleep. There's no sex. No talking. Just sleeping.

The no talking I get. To a point. And I won't ever push him to talk about anything he's not ready to talk about. I'll wait. I can be patient. I'm used to it. The fact that he's climbing into my bed every night tells me he's still mine. He isn't ready to let go of whatever it is we have. And neither am I. I've thought about it a lot over the last few weeks. I've played it down to the other girls every time they've asked about how I'm doing.

What I don't get is the no sex. I mean, we're really good at it. We've spent most of our relationship just having sex. This whole dating and being exclusive is new. But the sex? That's like second nature to us.

Or maybe I let myself go and get addicted to his cock, and this whole not having it thing is driving me up the bloody wall. It could also be my fucked-up head telling me that if we have sex, we'll find our way back to each other. Back to where we were.

I realise how stupid that theory is, and how I shouldn't rely on sex to fix whatever relationship issues we might have. I also realise that I shouldn't be using sex as a communication tool, but it kind of is. There's a different sort of connection I feel when we're intimate. And, honestly, I want that connection right now. I need it.

Which is why, tonight, when he walks into my bedroom, I'm not already asleep. I'm sitting up in my bed. I flick on the bedside light and his steps falter. His eyes travel the length of my body before they rest on my face.

"What's wrong? Why are you awake?" he asks.

"What's wrong?" I laugh. We haven't spoken to each other in a week and he's asking me what's wrong? "Gabe, what are we doing here? You sneak into my apartment—into my bed—every night. Fall asleep, then skip out before I wake up in the morning."

"Want me to leave?" he questions. I should point out that he says this as he's toeing off his shoes. This man has no intention of leaving.

"We both know I don't."

"So, what's the problem?"

"How long is this going to last? The not talking, the not fucking me?" I ask him.

"Is that what this is about? You want me to fuck you, Daisy?"

"Yes. No, I mean, I do. But, no, that's not what this is about. I want you to talk to me, Gabe. I want to fix whatever's broken."

"You lied to me. I asked you what those fucking scars were on your body, and you fucking lied to me. What else have you lied about?"

"My scars are my own, Gabe. A part of me. They're not yours to know anything about. Whatever happened to me is in the past, and that's where I'd like to keep it. I've healed. I will not let myself be that victim, the type who never recovers. I lied to you, because it's easier for me to do that than tell anyone the truth. And, let's face it, I'm not the only one in this relationship who's constantly hiding shit. Lying," I remind him.

Gabe's eyes seer through me. He's looking for something. What? I have no idea.

"I've never lied to you," he finally says after what feels like ten whole minutes of having him scrutinise my every feature.

"You lie to me all the time. Omitting the truth is still lying. Every time you've said it's a family thing. Or it's not something you need to worry about. That's lying to me. You not telling me? That's still a lie too. And whatever it is you do for the family." I use my fingers as air quotes. "Because I don't have any idea what you actually do. I know that it's not for me to know. And I'm okay with that, but let's not pretend that you're not lying to me every bloody day, Gabe."

"That's different. The things I don't tell you, Daisy… Fuck, half the time, I don't want to know about ?em myself. They're not pretty. Shit's gruesome. Fucked up. And I won't be the one putting images like those—the shit I have to see every fucking day—into your head. I don't tell you, because I'm trying to protect you from falling into the world I live in. From following me straight to fucking hell. Because you don't belong there."

"I'm pretty sure it's too late for that. ?Cause, you see, I've already fallen. And there's no getting out. I couldn't fall any harder for you if I tried. As for following you into hell, that's my choice to make. Not yours. If that's where you insist on going, then guess what? The devil might wanna make sure he's got Egyptian cotton sheets ready for me, because there are two things I'm not going to negotiate on. One, being with you. And two, the quality of my bedsheets."

"You've fallen for me?" Gabe pulls his shirt over his head.

"You know I have."

"Actually, I don't know that, because you've never said it. So, say it, Daisy."

"Say what?"

"That you love me. Say it," he urges.

A lump forms in my throat. "I just did."

I don't know what it is about those three little words, but they scare the crap out of me. To love someone as much as I love this man also gives him the power to hurt me. Gives him power over me and my emotions. And that's something I've been avoiding my whole life.

"No, you didn't. Say it," he repeats while crawling onto the bed and settling himself over top of me. With each of his legs on the side of mine. He's straddling me.

I swallow. "I love you," I whisper, so softly I barely hear it myself. Gabe hears me though. A smile—a beautiful bloody smile—lights up his face. And for the first time in a week, he looks… happy.

"I love you too." Gabe presses his lips lightly against mine. My face leans closer to his—I want more, need more—when he pulls away too quickly. Both of his hands cup my cheeks. "Don't ever fucking lie to me again, Daisy."

"What if it's for your safety or your own good? What if I have to fake an orgasm so your ego doesn't get bruised?" I ask him.

"First, you are never going to have to fake an orgasm with me. And I'd know if you ever tried. Second, never, I mean never. If we want this to work, then we don't lie to each other."

"What about this whole omitting facts thing you've got going on? Honesty has to go both ways."

"Daisy, as much as I want to tell you everything, you have to understand I can't. Truth is, you don't really want me to crawl into your bed at night and start talking about the bodies I've had to bury or the men I've had to kill that day. You don't want to know about the shady deals that I'm doing with the sort of people I wouldn't let within ten feet of you."

I blink. I'm not an idiot. I know whatever the De Bellis brothers do, it's not aboveboard. I know they're dangerous. Lethal. But hearing Gabe say it aloud has taken me aback a bit. I don't know how I feel about it.

His eyes flick between mine, like he's not sure what he's gonna find there. "Say something."

"I don't like what you do. I'm not Eloise. I can't just live in this fantasy world, where everything is going to be okay while believing love is going to conquer all the demons that come our way. And you're right. I don't want to hear about those things. I do, however, love you. And sometimes we have to take the good with the bad. There is so much good in you, Gabe, that most of the time when I'm with you, I forget the bad."

"Don't ever forget the bad, Daisy. It's who I am. I can't change that."

"I won't. But there is nothing wrong with focusing on the good either."

"I guess not."

"Gabe."

"Yeah?"

"I think now's the time you fuck me. I've heard great things about make-up sex, and I've always wanted to try it."

"We weren't fighting, Daisy. Make-up sex comes after a fight," he says.

"You want to fight me?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Fuck no. I don't want to fight…" He doesn't get the chance to finish that sentence before he's falling onto the floor. "What the fuck?" he grunts, a puzzled look on his face as I peer over the edge of the bed to look down at him.

"Sorry. I got carried away. I didn't mean to throw you off me that hard," I tell him as I climb off the bed and hold out a palm to help him back to his feet.

Gabe grabs my hand, a smirk appears on his face, and the next thing I know, he's pulling me down on top of him. Then he rolls our bodies over so I'm trapped underneath him.

"Two can play this game, Daisy," he says while smiling down at me.

"You're right. Two can play. Or you could just fuck me. That works for me too."

"Where'd you learn how to do a move like that?"

"I took self-defence classes for a few years," I tell him.

"Smart girl," he says before his lips slam onto mine, his tongue finally finding its way into my mouth.

I moan into the kiss. I've missed this. So damn much. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him against me. My legs circle around his waist. There is no way I'm letting go.

"Gabe?" I pull away but I don't loosen my grip. There's something I need to know. It's the one question that's been running through my head all week.

"Yeah."

"Do you… Does knowing what happened to me when I was a kid make you less attracted to me?"

"No," he answers quickly. "Daisy, I just have to get a glimpse of you and my dick is fucking hard." He presses into me for emphasis. "Nothing will ever make me not attracted to you."

"What if I get old and fat?"

"Then I'll be old and fat right along with you," he says. "Is that what you thought this whole time? That I didn't want you?"

"I was just wondering," I admit with a shrug. "I don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do."

"I love you, Daisy Blake. Nothing will ever change that. And as for wanting to fuck you, name the place and time, and I'll always be there for that. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

"Three weeks is a really long time for us to not have sex."

"It hasn't been a walk in the park for me either, baby. I've got fucking RSI in my wrist from having to jerk off so much."

"Must be a hardship." I laugh.

"Oh, it was… hard. All the damn time," he says. Then Gabe's lips claim mine again. Only this time, I have no intention of stopping him.

I need him, and I need him now.