It was Friday night and she was home alone. That right there should have told her something about her nonexistent social life. She was literally all work and no play.
Well, she’d played, but she didn’t figure playing with Gabe counted. He was more like work, when it came to how impossible he was. At least with Hunt & Co. and the upcoming counseling center she was in control, whereas with Gabe, she never had a clue what would happen next. They both wanted to take charge, which meant that control volleyed back and forth between them.
As she finished putting on her nightclothes, the chime of her doorbell echoed through her house. Chelsea stilled then smiled. Well, it had taken him longer to come to her than she’d first thought. Though the fact he was standing outside her door right now had her stomach doing all sorts of girl-crush flips, which was absurd considering they weren’t a couple or dating or anything.
Padding barefoot toward the front door, Chelsea instantly made out his silhouette through the etched glass of the door. Some might have said Gabe was predictable, but he was far from it. More like determined. He knew what he wanted and apparently wasn’t stopping until he had it. She knew he wanted her, but that was just physical. Besides, he’d gotten what he wanted, so shouldn’t he be done?
Chelsea flicked the lock on her door and pulled it open. Without waiting for an invite, Gabe removed his hat and stepped in, placing a kiss on her forehead as if to smooth over his abruptness.
“Won’t you come in?” she muttered with a wave of her hand.
He didn’t stop in the foyer. No, he went on into the living room as if he had every right to barge into her personal space.
Chelsea closed the door and followed, not at all surprised that he thought he could just take charge like he owned the place. He took a seat on her sofa, casual as you please, but she remained in the wide doorway. Practicing restraint around Gabe Walsh was difficult on a good day. This being the first time seeing him since they’d slept together, she figured she deserved some type of award for her control.
“Are you staying long?” she asked as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb.
“Not long,” he replied. “I ran into your brother at TCC. He said you’re not answering his texts.”
Chelsea snorted. “So you’re his messenger boy now? Since when did you two become so chatty?”
Gabe stretched his arm along the back of the couch and shifted his focus to her. “He offered to buy me a drink and asked about the Maverick case.”
Chelsea wasn’t quite sure how she felt about her brother and the man she’d just slept with discussing her without her present. She could only imagine the two alphas going head to head, both trying to protect her.
She licked her lips and kept her focus on Gabe. She didn’t want him to know just how much he affected her simply by being in her space, large and masculine, taking up a good portion of her couch. She hadn’t had a man in here in so long, and definitely not a man as sexy as Gabe.
“So why did you stop by?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t come across as breathy as it sounded to her. “You could’ve texted or called.”
“Maybe I wanted to see you.” That Southern voice warmed her just the same as if he’d touched her.
His words were often just as potent as his touch. She shivered at the passion, the desire shining back at her from his gray eyes.
“You should probably go,” she whispered. If he stayed, they’d tumble into bed—and then what? She didn’t think Gabe was looking for more, and she certainly wasn’t, either. But the more time they spent together, the more she trusted him and wanted to explore. Surely that would be a mistake. Right?
Gabe didn’t move. He barely blinked. Yet somehow from across the room he captured her attention.
“You don’t really want me to go,” he stated. “Besides, I want to know why you snuck out of my bed without a goodbye.”
Clearly, this was going to take some time and he wasn’t going anywhere without answers. Pulling in a deep breath, Chelsea went to the front window where she’d created a perfect window seat with plush, colorful pillows. She got comfortable and leaned back.
“I didn’t want to wake you and I told you I wasn’t staying.”
“You didn’t want a confrontation,” he corrected. “What are you afraid of, Chels? I won’t hurt you, I won’t exploit you and everything we do is private. I’m aware of your sensitivity and I’d never make you uncomfortable. Unless you’re afraid that you might want more than one night?”
That was exactly what scared her. There was no might about it. She did want more, but wanting more would lead to emotions and that was one area she couldn’t afford to go to with someone like Gabriel Walsh.
“I can hear your mind working from over here,” he stated. “Don’t make this any more complicated than it needs to be.”
“Says the man who doesn’t have a past that haunts him.”
Something dark came over his face in an instant. “You have no idea what’s in my past, so don’t assume.”
“I’m sorry.” Chelsea clutched the floral pillow tighter to her chest. “I never thought—”
“I had a life before I came to Royal, Chels. I had a demanding job and was too naïve. I thought I could have it all, but it was just another lie I told myself.”
Chelsea waited for him to go on, listening as his voice took on a lonely, sad tone. He glanced around her living room then came to his feet. Raking a hand through his hair, he pulled in a deep breath. She didn’t want him to feel like he owed her anything. He paced like a caged animal and she got the feeling he actually wanted to let her in on this portion of his life.