Page 63 of Make Me Bleed
“Why did you tell me that?”
“Because you told me,” he says easily, and his pale grey eyes are so soft and sincere, I know I could lose myself in them if I let myself.
My heart clenches. “A secret for a secret, huh?” I try to lighten the mood, and it seems to work. Abel snorts, but his sharp features are void of any of his usual terseness.
“Something like that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Peris. Truly.”
“It doesn’t matter now, Abel,” I say, feeling myself stiffen. I don’t want his apologies.
“I know. But I’ve always felt it and wanted you to know.”
“What difference does it make?” I snap. “Does it makeyoufeel better for me to know you feel sorry? How does that help me?”
He’s frozen for a minute as he gapes at me before finally snapping his jaw closed. “I guess it doesn’t.”
“No. It fucking doesn’t. So, just keep that shit to yourself.”
“You’re right,” he mutters, and I huff.
“Of course, I am.”
“I was being a smartass,” Abel snaps.
“I know.”
We both look up to the sound of footsteps.
“You two certainly get right back into it right away, don’t you?”
I groan, and Abel’s lips twitch. “Go the fuck away, Gabe.”
“This is my house too, you know. You can’t just keep kicking me out of all the rooms because you wanna be alone with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my fucking boyfriend!” I snap, and Abel winces.
“Fuck buddy?” Gabe tries, and Abel snickers when I growl. “All right, all right, yeesh. Always so testy.”
“You’re gonna think…”
“You didn’t even make enough for me, dick!” Gabe accuses as he walks over to the stove and sees the empty skillet, devoid of any food. I lift a brow and smirk.
“That’s what you get. Make your own food.” And when Gabe rushes over and tries to steal my last piece of bacon, while I ward him off, Abel takes it from my plate and shoves it in his mouth, earning two loud, “Heys!” from the both of us.
“What?” he says, mouth full of food. “Didn’t want it to fall onto the floor.” And then, he grins and walks over to drop his plate into the sink. I watch his bare legs as he walks away. “I’ll be right back.” And then, he’s gone up the stairs if the tell-tale creak is anything to go by. I listen to his footsteps as he makes his way into my room, and all the while, Gabe stares at me.
“You’ve got it bad, dude.”
“I know.”
“Oh, good. I was afraid you were in denial.”
I huff. “I am.”
“Oh, shit,” he mutters. “This isn’t gonna be good.”
I think about Abel, half-dressed in nothing but a cum-dried black thong and my sweatshirt. “Nope.” I pop the “P” and shove to my feet. Gabriel rolls his eyes.
“Try to keep it down, will you?” He grimaces. “It’searly.”
