Mind Over Matter (22 page)

Nicole licked her lips and swallowed. How is it that she had so much to say and yet couldn't think of one thing in this moment?

Gabriel was struggling. He had so much to say and yet nothing was coming out. She was standing there waiting for him, probably wondering what the fuck his problem was. He was the one who invited her out here as if they'd needed peace and quiet. Now the pressure was on and his voice was stuck in his throat. His mind on the other hand was moving a mile a minute.

Tell her you love her. Tell her you will always love her. Kiss her. Fuck, she looks so good. She smells even better. I bet she tastes sweeter...

"Wow. This is embarrassing," he said after a moment of her waiting for him to speak. "It's like I'm... drawing a blank..."

She smiled and started to say something when he finally spoke.

"So you excited about the tour—"

"How's the writing goin—"

They both shared a shock of nervous laughter at the same time. Then she motioned for him to go first.

"I think Jackie said something about you working on your next book?"

Nicole nodded. "Yeah. Though, I was suffering a nasty bout of writer's block for a while. A little different when you have a book doing well and an editor breathing fire at you so you don’t miss your deadline."

Gabriel nodded, trying hard as hell not to lick his lips when his eyes darted over her frame again.

"You'll get your groove back, sweetheart. If you can find a way to write after years of doing nothing, then it's not far from the surface."

He paused when her face shifted. Something sad and full of longing took over. Her eyes dipped down and then she looked to the side and blinked.

"What? What is it?" he asked, rewinding what he'd said to see if he'd offended her in some way. Was she having second thoughts about talking to him? "You're not really scared about writer's block, are you?" She turned to face him, her brow furrowed, but he kept talking in the hope he would relieve the tension. "Look, Nic, it happens to everybody at some point. Sometimes lyrics are coming out so fast I can't keep up and other times my mind is bone dry—"

"It's been a long time since you called me that," she whispered softly. "Feels like forever."

He swallowed, instantly knowing what he'd done.

Sweetheart.

His term of endearment for her. It had slipped out because he'd let his guard down.

"I'm sorry. It's... old habits, you know? They die hard."

"No shit," she agreed with a snort, then covered her mouth when it came out too loud.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. Sexy one minute, cute and awkward the next. She knew what had brought on the spurt of laugher and joined him.

"Don't make fun of me, old man. This snort is hereditary and I'll tell Jackie. She won't take too kindly to you mocking her."

The “old man” she'd thrown in wasn't lost on him. It made him miss his favorite endearment from her. “Babe,” that's what she used to call him, setting her apart from all the girls in the past, the litany of “baby”s and “honey”s that had meant next to nothing compared to that one hard-earned word from the woman he'd loved more than any other.

"Wouldn't want that. I still remember how hard she can crack her knuckles on my skull."

He saw it. Quick as lightening, but it was all there in her pretty face. She remembered exactly what time he was referring to. The week that had started it all. She was just a visitor in his life then. She was just Jackie's little sister, turning into his own personal obsession. His innocent yet dirty girl, a girl who was only dirty for him, at his command. When Jackie had found out they were hooking up right under her nose, she'd given him a crack on his skull and then flicked Nicole's lips. Lips she was biting now remembering how the floodgates had been opened.

His cock stirred in his jeans, already weakened by the sight of her, the feel of her against his body when he'd greeted her earlier.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring all that old shit up."

"Why do you keep apologizing?" she whispered before looking him squarely in the eye. He was at a loss for words, and only a gentle curve of her lips let him know she wasn't mad or sad. "It's not like you're reminding me of things I don't think about every day, Gabriel."

Fuck...

"Ugh! Fuck!" she echoed aloud. She wrung her hands through her hair and turned away from him in a huff, shaking her head vigorously.

"I can't do this anymore," she said after a long moment of silence.

His heart sank. He lowered his head, bit his lip against frustration and started once again to give up the ghost.

But her voice stopped him. "What are we doing? Do you remember when you asked me that?"

Of course he did. He would have said so, if his voice wasn't stuck in his throat for fear of saying the wrong thing.

"Once upon a time, you asked me what we were doing,” she said. “You said we should give ourselves a chance and try to really be together, instead of tiptoeing around each other.” She paced back and forth, almost talking to herself instead of him. "But all we ended up doing was tiptoeing. I was scared of your past, you were scared of mine. I mean, I was thinking about telling you I loved you for
weeks
before you said it. I was daydreaming about marrying you and having kids. And then when I was with Travis, I was willing to pretend I could be friends with you, just so I could keep you in my life.”

Gabriel was in shock. Stock-still and unsure if he was hearing her words or hallucinating.

"Now, we're standing outside trying to make small talk, and the only thing I can think is, 'what are we doing here?' Why am I trying to pretend I want to do anything other than kiss you, and beg you to forgive me for what I did to you, Gabe?"

She turned to face him and her eyes were glassy with tears. "I'm the one who should be sorry, here," she whispered. "I was so stupid... And I'm so sorry. I would take it all back if I could, but I can't, and I'm tired of wishing for the past to fix itself, when what I really want is to just live here and now. With you."

Maybe none of this was real. Maybe he was imagining it all and she was still talking about her current writing project. Maybe she was talking about living with Jackie and Ian till she found her own place. Maybe this was all a delusion, and any minute now she would ask him if was listening to her.

"Say something. Please," she begged, proving him wrong. This was real.

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but the adult in him censored his words. The person who didn't want to hurt her anymore because of selfish desire said, "Nicole... there were a lot of things that made us breakup. It wasn't just Meredith, or Travis, or being afraid. There's my job, too. My apartment feels like a hotel these days. I spend half the year on the road, and the other half in the studio. And... you want a person you can spend your life with, someone who's gonna be there. Someone who deserves to have you waiting for him."

Silence stretched between them.

"I don't want to keep hurting you. And I don't know if I
’m able to do anything but h
urt you. Just by being who I am and doing what I do..."

She looked like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Would this pendulum ever stop swinging? Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

Desperation could make you say lots of crazy things you weren't sure you believed. He knew that. As much as he wanted this, he wanted to stop hurting her more.

"We can't be just friends," she whispered. "I can barely have a normal conversation with you, without thinking about kissing you."

He exhaled sadly. Even now it was taking all his strength not to touch her. "Same here."

She smiled even as tears streaked her face. "So, that's it then? There's no hope for us? Can't be together, can't stand being apart?" she asked. "Is that how this story is supposed to go?"

"Of course that's not what I want. I want to be with you,” Gabriel said. “I knew that the second I saw you walk through the door. I've always gone against my better judgment when it came to you, because I want you. I love you. That never changes."

Her jaw was set. She took one step towards him, then another. "Really? You still love me? Just as much as you did before?"

He swallowed as she took another step. "More," he said simply.

She nodded. "Me too. I didn't think that was possible, but I can't help myself."

Another step. He licked his lips and saw the slight hitch in her chest as she inhaled. The way they affected each other, the dance their bodies did even when their words were trying to keep them still, was magic. He felt himself leaning forward, like the tide heeding the pull of the moon.

"You say you love me…”

“I do, Nic. But that doesn't mean—"

"Stop. Just stop trying to protect me from myself and what I want. Since day one you've been going on and on about how you don't want hurt me. So, don't hurt me."

She lifted a shaky hand to his face and touched him with deliberate tenderness and longing for the first time in months. "I've had the chance to see both sides of the coin, and you were fucking wrong. Being apart from you, being without you... that
hurts
more than anything you could ever do if we were together. I can pretend with someone else. I can even get by. I don't want to, and I know you don't want that either."

He closed his eyes when she slid her hand behind his head and ruffled her fingers through the hair curling there.

"I know what I want. I want
you
. You with your crazy schedule, and your past, and your mistakes, and the shit you're scared of. All the bad and all the good. I love you, Gabriel. And at the risk of sounding like a crazy stalker lady," she said, giving him a look that made them both laugh despite the gravity of the moment, "I'm not spending another day of my life without you. I'm not letting us make the same mistake again."

He exhaled a shaky breath as she came closer. Every cell in his body was agreeing with her. But one last wall of resistance held fast, keeping him still. "You're not making this easy, sweetheart..."

She smiled, lifted herself up on her toes and said, "Good. Glad to know I still have an effect on you."

Her tongue darted against her lips. Her body touched his then slid against him, stretching as far as she could go.

"Always," he answered with a smile.

"Then listen to me, Gabriel," she ordered, sweetly. "Let's start over from the beginning."

"Nic—"

"Kiss me."

He sighed sadly, barely holding himself back while she stared ravenously from his mouth to his eyes. "Nic, I'm leaving in two days... I'm going to be gone—"

"We've waited years to really be together," she said firmly.

The weight of that time and their journey hit them both full force. Years. Years of this feeling. Of being so close, yet so far.

"I think we can take a few months. And lucky for you, I got inspired by a certain musician to follow my passion. Computers are portable these days, old man. You can, like, take them with you in a shoulder bag and store them in places like tour buses. It's a beautiful fuckin' thing."

He laughed, giddy with the prospect of her taking the reins. She wasn't going to let him run scared. She was staring down the future and she was daring him to do the same, the way he'd done with his career, with his whole life. She was asking him to jump with her, and her surety that they would land in the same place unscathed made him sigh with relief. The alternative was a half-life. He'd lived it. He’d barely survived it.

That life was coming to an end right now.

He wrapped an arm around her waist just as she said, "Kiss me, Gabriel. Please. Just kiss me, and make all of that go away..."

He didn't have to be told a fourth time. He closed his eyes over tears that threatened to spill over. And beneath his lids he saw candles. He saw her face through flickering light, on the other side of a room full of loved ones. He heard a wish that was beneath all the fear of failure, a true call to the universe, to God, to whoever was listening. He'd wished for her and now she was here. She was in front of him, against all odds, asking him to seal his future with her, with a kiss. He could think of only two words.

"Thank you," he whispered aloud just before his lips touched hers and he kissed life back into the story of them.

She gasped against his mouth, pulling him tighter, then squealed when he picked her up and spun her around in a circle. Her lips touched every part of his face from his temples to the indent in his chin. And then her lips touched his again and her tongue slid back over his, diving deep into his welcoming and eager mouth.

When he set her down and they finally came up for breath, he placed his forehead against hers, swept his hands through her hair and cradled her face.

"Thank you," he said again.

"For what?" she asked. When he was silent for a long moment, she simply said, "Babe?" and it was as if there'd never been a day when she hadn't called him that.

There was no hesitation in her voice, no misgivings, no regret. He hadn't coerced or begged her to kiss him, to call him that. It was all her. Two year's worth of heartache was erased in an instant.