Page 97 of Gabriel
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Okay,” I admitted, “but that could bewhyI need you.”
And maybe it wasn’t just about need. Maybe it was about the fact that my heart was making decisions on its own. Maybe my soul had started to trust this man, although I wasn’t ready to admit—nor voice—the growing, nagging feelings that something was off with Jet’s request to snatch Gabriel.
His eyes flickered full of storm and want. The space between us buzzed with it. This wasn’t just about the night. It was about what we’d risked by crossing the line, and what might come next.
I reached for him, brushing my fingertips along his jaw. His stubble was rough under my touch, and he leaned into it like he needed the contact more than air.
“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I.”
“Is it okay if I… touch you?” I asked.
“Please,” he grunted and I let my fingers wander the angles of his face. I wanted to know every hard ridge of him—everythingabout him—and that should have alarmed me, but it didn’t.
I curled closer, resting my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath my ear, anchoring me.
“Gabriel,” I whispered, letting his name settle on my tongue like a confession. “Gabriel Santos.”
He turned slightly, a teasing smile forming as his eyes met mine.
“I like the way you say my name,” he murmured. “Better not go back to calling me Santos.”
There was a softness in his tone, a warning wrapped in affection, almost as if the name wasn’t just his, but also mine to keep, if I dared.
“Fine. But if you piss me off, it’s back to Santos. Full name. No mercy.”
He laughed, shifting closer so the warmth of him bled into my skin.
“If you’re pissed off, just kiss me and we’ll make up before it can come to that,” he purred. “You have no idea, Amara, what I’d do for you. I’d give you anything you want.”
A faint and unexpected blush touched his cheeks, and something fluttered inside me. I leaned up and kissed him once, lingering there.
“What?” he said. “Pissed off already?”
I chuckled. “No. I was just testing it. I like it.”
He held my gaze, something unreadable swimming behind those eyes.
“Good,” he said. “Because once you start, it’s hard to stop.”
A shiver rolled down my spine. This was real. Potentially complicated. And there was no going back.
Although, judging by my sister’s recent behavior, I didn’t think Elira would want me to deny this affection—or whatever it was—toward him. She’d been nothing but encouraging when it came to flirting with Gabriel, and the odds were she knew where I was and what I was doing.
“So, what happens now?” He smiled again, and it wasdevastating.
I hesitated, caught somewhere between caution and instinct. “What do you mean?”
“I already told you, I want to help you. I’m not only eager to protect Anya and Sailor, but you too. So for the love of God, let me help you.”
“I don’t know what help you could give me. We’re so deep into this—whatever this is anymore—that I’m not even sure what help I need.” I looked down at his shirt, fingers absently tracing the fabric bunched at his waist. “I just want to help my brother and protect my siblings from whatever is going on.”
He didn’t answer right away. The heavy silence stretched until he finally broke it. “You’ll learn to trust me, Amara. Just wait and see.”
I pulled back just enough to study his face. His jaw was tight, his eyes steady.
