11th February

I'm not a violent person. Not often. It's not something I resort to if I'm pissed off, not if whatever's bothering me can be solved with a conversation. But fuck, I didn't want to have a conversation with Josh. I wanted to cave his head in.

The entire drive home, I held Gabrielle's hand, kissing the back of it, using her light to cast out some of that dark. The dark I was feeling over Josh disregarding his daughter as though she were nothing. 

As though he hadn't been watching the first five years of her life. Watching her grow into this kid who has the confidence to do whatever challenges her and not give up until she succeeds.

She's been in my home and life for less than three months and if Gabrielle disappeared with her tomorrow, I'd be devastated. I would miss that kid. I would miss them both more than I can comprehend. 

We pull into the drive at home. Camilla told Gabrielle that Lydia had fallen asleep and offered to drop her off at school in the morning. The car is dark, the streetlamps cast a glow on a light snow fall outside, white powder turning to water as soon as it hits the windshield. Gabrielle unbuckles her seat belt but she doesn't move. She stares at her lap and her breathing gets louder.

Soon her chin starts to quiver and her shoulders shake and I can't fucking stand it.

Clutching the steering wheel, I drag my feet back toward the seat, the floor mat squeaking under my boot.

"How can I protect her from this, Nathan?" Gabrielle wipes her face with her sleeve, shaking her head. "I can't. I can't stop this from happening. I can't make him want to be in her life. She doesn't deserve this."

I'm about to agree with her when she lets out a loud, broken sob and pushes the car door open, stepping out into the cold night. I expect her to go up to the house, but she doesn't. I'm out of the car in time to see her storming down the driveway, her arms wrapped around herself, clouds of cold breath billowing above her.

"Gabrielle," I run after her, careful not to slip on the wet concrete.

"I just need to walk," she sniffs.

I get that, the feeling of being restless and helpless, wanting nothing more than to find the solutions to impossible problems. I'm not going to coax her out of it, so instead, I fall into step beside her,  because I'm not going to let her go alone.

Wisps of dark cloud cover patches of the cobalt canvas above us, a few stars peeping through the gaps. The snowfall is easing now, making the late night trek a bit more bearable.

Not that it could be bad when I'm with Gabrielle. I'd walk from one side of Colorado to the other if I could do it with her.

She sniffs again, it almost echos in the quiet streets. Lights shine from the cracks in peoples curtains, porch lights illuminating front doors and the glare of television screens flicker in top floor windows. Walking at night brings a certain peace when someone is safe enough to do so. I wouldn't want Gabrielle out on her own, my own fucking breed to thank for that.

We walk in silence for a good fifteen minutes before she slips her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. It inflates me, it puts my lungs into overdrive. Something as simple as her feeling comfortable enough to initiate this closeness doesn't hold a candle to whatever wonders this world has to offer.

"Thank you for being there for me this afternoon," she whispers.

I kiss her head. "You don't need to thank me."

She stops, pulling me to a stop as well and I face her, standing close. Her nose is red and her lower lash line is glistening. She's beautiful when she cries, as bad as it fucking hurts, she is beautiful. I think I could say that about her no matter what mood she were in.

I find her existence in general to be an undoing of specific design and purpose. I would live for her, I would go wherever in the world she wanted me to. There hasn't been one woman in my life I've wanted to throw it in for. To give up the solace of a quiet home, to give up scouring bars for one night stands, to give up the freedom of having no one to answer to.

All of that could go, I would trade the quiet house for a fierce little girl who spins in circles and shouts and bosses me about. I'd trade it for her mom lounging in front of the fire with her books and the warm washing she throws at me when it's come out of the drier.

I'd never step foot in a bar again if it meant having her warming our bed. Knowing she's the one I get to crawl in next to, spend the night with her body against mine.

All the one night stands in the world wouldn't bring me the sort of peace I feel when she smiles at me.

I've never been so close to putting it all on the line. Telling her, screw it, spend the rest of your life looking at me like I'm capable of hanging the moon and the stars babe, because for you, I'd spend the rest of my life trying.

Facing me, the street lamp casting patches of shadow over her face, she attempts a smile, one that doesn't leave indents in her cheeks or a swell under her eyes.

"You've been really good to us," she whispers, lacing our hands together between us and lifting them to her lips. "I don't know how to. . .accept it. I just. . . I'm so grateful and it's—"

I kiss her because I don't want her thanks, I don't want her to feel like she owes me a damn thing. What started as a favor to her has turned into the biggest fucking blessing for me and I wouldn't change any of it for the world.

In fact, it's painful to know that she's not used to being cared for unconditionally. That the 'love' she's known from the time she was in high school until now has been compromised with coercion and selfish intent.

That while she's quietly gone along, raising her daughter and keeping a home, she's been taken advantage of by someone who was supposed to be her equal. He tore this woman down to shreds and left her to believe that love is transactional and she had to earn it.

And even when she tried, it wasn't enough for him.

As her lips, warm despite the cold, move with mine, I promise her that she'll never have to earn an ounce of the respect she deserves, ever again. I'll heap it upon her. I'll give her the world and all I'll ask for in return, is her word that she'll never let herself live in unhappiness, ever again.

My hands slide up to cup her jaw and I feather kisses, soft and light against her mouth.

The snowfall starts again, light, just soft whispers of powder kisses against our cheeks. Gabrielle inhales a trembling breath as I slide a hand down her back, the other wrapping around her delicate fingers.

We start to move, stepping side to side, a slow sway on the sidewalk. She leans back, staring up at me, her lashes catch a few sprinkled snow flecks. I kiss them.

"What are we doing?" She lightly laughs, it's enough to spur my heart on.

"We're dancing."

"Do I have to point out that there's no music?"

I kiss her forehead, just because I can't get enough of putting my lips on her. "There's music."

Her face, tipped up, grins at me. "Oh. Where?"

With our hands still joined, I touch her heart and then mine.

Her cheeks ignite a sweet shade of red and she ducks her head, leaning it against my chest. She belongs here, right here with me. We could be anywhere in the world, and I would feel at home if it was with her.

Mom and dad's house has been the longest commitment I've ever made. I never imagined wanting to part with the memories or the nostalgia I get from those walls. But for the first time in my life, I consider, there might be more to a home than the structure that keeps it standing.

               A few hours later, after a warm shower and something to eat, Gabrielle and I lay in my bed watching a movie. I can't even express what the simpleness of it means to me, of her being curled into my chest, her glasses on. She looks so damn cute.

Her phone lights up on the dark blue comforter and she checks it, letting out a little gasp.

"Ew," she gags. "Noooooo."

"What?"

She sits up, leaning on the head board. "This guy just sent me a DM. Of the sliding sort."

I chuckle, sitting up and slinging an arm behind my head. "What's gross about that? Dude is shooting his shot. He's got good taste."

Her screen illuminates her blushing grin but she waves me off, her gaze growing serious. "No, the gross part is that he has a girlfriend. I met them a couple of times in Denver through Josh."

"Classic. The friends are always sitting on the sidelines, waiting. Asshole for having a girlfriend though."

Her fingers move over her screen, the reflection in her glasses. "I'm sure he does," she mumbles, more tapping. "Oh, mhmm. There she is. Definitely still together."

I scoff. "Does he just assume you won't tell her."

"I guess. Her and I weren't friends but. . . still. That's so rude of him."

I lazily gesture a hand at her phone. "You ever seen those girls that set up another girls boyfriend? Message them all this flirting shit to get the evidence and then screenshot it and send it to the girlfriend?"

Gabrielle slowly turns her head to me, eyes wide behind her glasses. The way I'm drawn to kiss her whenever she looks at me is so far out of my control, it's ridiculous.

"That's such a good idea," her teeth sink into her bottom lip as her gaze drifts with thought. "But would that be meddling? I'd feel bad hurting her."

"The sooner she knows about her piece of shit boyfriend, the better."

Gabrielle thinks for a moment longer, but I know what she'll do. She's too familiar with heartache not to get involved.

"What should I respond with?" She asks, thumbs hovering just above her screen.

Scooting closer, I sit arm to arm with her and look at the message. It's a simple, hi, asking how she is and what she's been up to. It could seem innocent but I've used that exact conversation starter to initiate a couple of fucks in the past. I know these games a little too well.

"Tell him you've been good but a little bored."

Gabrielle looks at me. "Bored?"

"Trust me."

She laughs, but does what I tell her. There's definitely slower more subtle ways to get this going but dragging it out seems pointless. He sees the message straight away and Gabrielle does a little jump and gasp, kicking her legs.

"He's responding."

I nudge her side. "Don't get too excited, babe. Shit. This is pretend right?"

She scoffs. "I'm nervous though."

His message pops up and we both go silent, reading it.

Bored? How come. You still in Denver? I heard you and Josh split.

"Tell him you're still in Denver," I roll a little more onto my side and slip a hand under the cover, sliding it over Gabrielle's bare smooth thigh. "Gives him more ammo to initiate an invitation. I mean, you could spend a while building it up to the point where he'd travel to meet up, and he would. But that takes a little time."

She gives me a side on glare. "Speaking from experience?"

"It's the old me."

She doesn't respond, her lips curling into a subtle grin as she shakes her head and starts typing out a response. For all I know, this dude might be desperate enough to get in his car and see her tonight. But using what I know, it's not often that fast. I stare up at Gabrielle, her brows pinched in concentration while she sets this miserable fucker up. I take a moment to feel all sorts of grateful that I get to be the one in bed beside her.

The messages go back and forth for a while, basic chat about mundane topics like work and even the weather.

"Oop," Gabrielle slaps a hand over her mouth and aims her bright screen at me.

Don't even think about Josh for a second longer. He's an idiot and we all told him. You're fucking beautiful. Hope that's not too forward. Just can't believe he let you go.

"Predictable," I huff with laughter, my hand still keeping warm between her thighs under the comforter, my head resting beside her rib.

"What should I say?" She asks.

"Tell him something like, really? Do you think so. I always thought you were hot too. Dudes love their egos being stroked and if he gets the chance to swoop in and be the one to distract you from heartache, he'll eat that shit up."

Her buttons tap as she sighs. "You're a little too good at this."

My face turns into her and I nuzzle her breast, biting it through her shirt. "You're a little too good for me."

"Mhmm. Smooth, babe."

Fuck, I'm on absolute cloud nine. Even if she is currently texting another man with flirtatious messages.

After a few minutes and another couple of messages, she starts laughing so hard that my head shakes under her torso and she drops her phone into her lap.

"I can't," she howls in hysterics.

My hand is so nice and warm tucked between her thighs but I slip them out into the colder air and pick up her phone, reading the screen. Gabrielle's hand slides onto my bicep, raised while I hold the phone up and she traces the swell of muscle, sending a tingle soaring straight to my dick. It makes it hard to focus.

God, I can't believe you think that. I never thought you'd think that about me. Fuck, I'm smiling so hard Gabs.

Laughter rumbles out of me. "What a fucking sucker."

When I try to hand the phone to her she waves her hands and gags. "No, Nathan. I can't do this. It's so embarrassing."

"I'll do it."

That makes her laugh harder for some reason and if she's laughing, I'm good.

She scoots further down, draping her arms over my shoulders while I lay my head on her stomach and pick up where she left off. She reads the screen from behind me.

Why wouldn't I think that? I mean, look at you.

I've just never been that confident. Plus, you had Josh so I never thought you'd notice me.

"This guys wants his dick sucked so bad," I snort, mildly distracted at Gabrielle tracing circles on my chest.

I was always secretly looking.

Gabrielle and I both break into snickering laughter.

Fuck, I wish I knew that sooner. I was always watching, wanting you. It was so hard.

I had a dream about you once.

"I did?" Gabrielle asks.

"Just wait," I murmur, amused when the three dots start jumping at the bottom of the screen.

What was it about? What were we doing?

I'll tell you if I see you in person ;)

Would you be keen to get a drink sometime and talk about it? Or come over. Up to you.

"And there it is," I tsk, both disappointed and pleased with how easy that was.

Gabrielle sighs behind me. "I mean, as funny as that was, we still have to tell his girlfriend now and that's. . . sad. We should not have been laughing about that. I feel awful."

Dropping the phone, I sit up and turn around, facing Gabrielle. She looks a little deflated, her lopsided smile tainted with down turned eyes. Gripping her hip, I pull her down in one quick movement so she's flat on her back and then I crawl between her legs.

Slowly, that sadness morphs into contentment and I kiss her forehead.

"Deal with it tomorrow," I whisper against her skin. "Let him stew for the night. For now, just be here with me."

Her hands move up my chest, fingers sliding over the back of my head, her nails lightly scratching as she spreads her thighs further apart.

"Yeah, we'll deal with it tomorrow."