Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Gabe parks at the curb a block away from the office and lets me get out so our coworkers don’t see me getting out of his vehicle. Of course, one of his bodyguards also hops out and follows close behind me. I’ve kinda gotten used to my mostly invisible shadow, but the situation still feels crazy.
The days go by in a blur. I bury myself in admin work and spreadsheets and endless meetings, but it’s not the same as it used to be. The highlight of every day is getting a text from Gabe reminding me it’s time to escape for the day.
After work, we head home together. Sometimes we pick up takeout, and sometimes we cook together in his absurdly fancy kitchen. I never realized how sexy chopping vegetables could be until I watched Gabe Mercer manhandle a chef’s knife and then feed me slivers of red bell pepper straight from the cutting board.
Most nights, we eat dinner in front of the giant TV, sprawled on his couch with our legs tangled together. He makes fun of my obsession with reality TV, but I catch him getting weirdly invested in the shows. When he glances down at me, runs his fingers through my hair, and kisses the top of my head like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him, I thank my lucky stars for the day I spilled my coffee all over him.
Weekends are my favorite. Saturdays are for sleeping in. Gabe plays on his phone or just stares at the ceiling while I cuddle up next to him until I’m ready to get out of bed.
On Sunday mornings, he’s up before the sun, going for his run, making coffee, and reading business news on his phone, while I slowly wake up by drinking coffee from Gobble Me Up and preparing myself for the day ahead.
We do laundry together. We go grocery shopping and come back to his apartment to meal prep for the week. It’s all so normal and routine.
By the time Sunday night rolls around, I’m already dreading Monday—not because I hate my job, but because every weekend brings me a little closer to something terrifying and wonderful.
I’m so in love with Gabe that I barely know what to do with myself.
The only problem is, I have no idea how to tell him.
It’s a dumb fear. If I’m being honest, Gabe is the most all-in, go-big-or-go-home man I’ve ever met. When he wants something, he doesn’t just go after it—he devours it. He’s already woven me into every part of his life. My toothbrush is in his bathroom. My favorite brand of yogurt is in his fridge. There’s a copy of my apartment key on his key ring, even though I only go back to my own place to grab clothes for the week and to water the half-dead succulent on my windowsill.
Still, I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to move in with him, but because I’m a big ol’ chicken.
I want him to make the first big move.
So, I wait.
And in the meantime, I live for the little moments.
After a month, it’s like my old life never existed. Gabe is my home base now. I don’t know how I ever managed without him.
One night, we’re making dinner together. I’m at the stove, stirring risotto, and Gabe is hovering behind me, arms wrapped around my waist. He keeps nuzzling the back of my neck, distracting me so badly that I keep forgetting to stir. The risotto is on the verge of burning, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“Smells good,” he says, voice low in my ear.
“I’m trying to cook, you know.” I giggle, leaning back into him. “Don’t you have some billion-dollar merger to worry about?”
“Later,” he murmurs, kissing the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “This is more important.”
I try to play it cool, but I’m melting. Every single time.
“You’re going to make me burn dinner,” I protest, but I let him lift me onto the counter anyway.
He crowds in close, so tall and broad that he blocks out everything but the heat of his body and the look in his eyes. “Let it burn. That’s what pizza delivery is for,” he says, and then he kisses me, slow and deep, like he’s got all the time in the world.
We don’t even make it to the bedroom that night. We wind up on the kitchen counter while my dinner sits forgotten on the stove.
This is what my life is now. And I want it. I want all of it, forever.
Later, after we clean up, he gives me the world’s best back massage on the couch while we watch Below Deck. I lie there with my head in Gabe’s lap, staring at nothing and trying to figure out how to ask for more.