26– Gabrielle

The air inside the penthouse had become suffocating.

It had nothing to do with the temperature. The room was cool enough that I could feel the air-conditioning brushing against my skin every time I moved. But somehow, every breath I took felt thick, as though the oxygen had been replaced with something heavier.

Something I had to fight my way through.

Kayden and I had barely spoken since the doctor left.

And yet, the silence between us was the loudest I'd ever heard.

I couldn’t even blame Kayden for it.

I had spent the entire day pushing him around.

Eat this.

Take your medication.

Lie down.

Don’t go out.

Don’t drink.

Listen to me.

And when he fought me, I’d fought harder.

Everything I had done had been for his own good. I knew that. I could justify every decision I’d made if I had to.

But that didn’t mean I hadn’t been difficult.

And maybe that was why I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at me earlier.

Like he couldn’t understand me.

Honestly, I couldn’t understand myself either.

I couldn’t understand how Kayden could be so damn nonchalant about everything.

Even hockey.

Especially hockey.

Hockey was supposed to be the one thing that brought him back to himself. He’d said that himself. I’d watched it happen more times than I could count. The moment he stepped onto the ice, something changed in him.

The man who seemed determined to treat life like a joke suddenly became focused.

Alive.

Like nothing else existed.

And yet today, when it mattered most, he’d seemed almost indifferent to what happened.

As though whether he played tomorrow or didn’t didn’t really matter.

As though winning or losing didn’t matter.

As though he had already made peace with whatever came next.

A man resigned to defeat.

The thought unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. Because I didn’t want him to be defeated. I didn’t want Kayden to stop fighting.

By the time night settled over Montreal, I had spent so long pretending that everything was fine that I almost believed the lie myself.

Almost.

It wasn’t until I heard the distant rumble of thunder that the knot in my stomach returned.

I stared at the closed bedroom door. Then at the windows.

Dark clouds had swallowed most of the city lights, and every few seconds, a flash of lightning illuminated the skyline.

I hated storms.

I always had.

Usually, I could manage it. I could lock myself in my room, turn the television up, bury myself under the covers and pretend the thunder wasn’t striking.

Tonight, however, I was sharing a penthouse with a certain someone… 

A man…whose arms I suddenly wanted around me.

The thought made heat crawl up my neck.

I stood outside his bedroom for several seconds, arguing with myself.

This was ridiculous.

I was a grown woman, I should be able to handle my fear of thunderstorm. 

I lifted my hand and knocked once. Nothing. I swallowed and slowly pushed the door open. The bedroom was almost completely dark.

“Kayden?” My voice came out softer than I’d intended.

I kept my palms pressed flat against the door, suddenly feeling like an intruder despite the fact that I technically had every right to be there.

“Are you asleep?”

“What do you want?” His voice was flat and tired and not exactly welcoming.

I winced.

“I know I said you could take the bed…” I paused, twisting my fingers together. “But can I join you?”

Silence.

Then came the rustle of sheets.

A second later, the bedside lamp clicked on.

Warm yellow light spilled across the room, chasing away the shadows.

Kayden was propped against the headboard, his dark hair slightly disheveled and his face drawn with exhaustion. His eyes settled on me, and confusion slowly replaced the irritation in them.

“What?” he asked. 

“Can I sleep here?” I repeated. 

His eyebrows pulled together. “Why?”

“Well…” I glanced toward the window where another flash of lightning lit the sky. “It seems there’ll be a storm tonight.”

He tilted his head. “So?”

I swallowed.

That was the problem.

I couldn’t tell him the real reason.

I couldn’t stand in the doorway and say, I’m scared, and I don’t want to be alone.

Because that would be admitting too much.

I couldn’t say, I don’t want to sleep by myself tonight.

Because he might ask why.

And I certainly couldn’t say, I want you.

So I stood there, staring at the floor, hoping he’d accept the excuse without making me explain it.

“Are you scared of storms?” Kayden asked. 

His voice changed. There was no teasing edge to it. No smug amusement. No opportunity to make me feel ridiculous. Just concern.

Real concern.

I looked up, my eyes locking with his, and nodded. “Yeah.”

Kayden let out a heavy sigh and lifted the covers, patting the empty corner of the bed. “Get in.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I crossed the room, suddenly aware of every step I took. I climbed onto the mattress, careful not to disturb him, and settled on the edge.

There was a ridiculous amount of space between us.

I could have fallen off the bed and probably still not touched him.

I stared at the ceiling.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

It was only a bed.

Only Kayden.

Only the man I’d spent the last several days trying desperately not to think about.

Except this was the first time I was actually sleeping beside him.

I could feel his presence without even looking at him: the heat radiating from his body. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the clean smell of the hotel soap. The mattress dipping beneath his weight.

My mind betrayed me almost immediately.

I remembered the photoshoot we had in his bedroom. The way his body pressed against mine. The way his arm wrapped around me. The warmth of his breath against my skin.

The way his eyes had moved over me, as though he were trying to memorize every inch of me.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Why was I thinking about that now?

Why did my body seem to have a mind of its own whenever Kayden was near me?

What was it about him that made me loose control. Especially now. Because at some point, without even realizing it, I had shifted closer.

My back was pressed against his chest.

I froze.

So did he.

Then Kayden’s body relaxed behind me. His arm slid around my waist. Slowly. Carefully. As though he were giving me enough time to stop him if I wanted to.

I didn’t.

His forearm settled across my stomach, his hand resting loosely against my side.

The gesture was so natural that it almost hurt. Like we’d done this before. Like this was where I belonged.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured. His voice was low, I could feel the vibration of it against my back.

“It’s you who’s cold,” I whispered.

“I do run cold.” His fingers shifted against my waist. “It’s good that you’re warm, no? Means we’re a perfect match.”

My body stiffened.

Kayden went quiet behind me. I could practically feel the smile that probably tugged at the corner of his mouth.

How could he say things like that so effortlessly?

How could he throw words like perfect match into the darkness as though they didn’t have the power to completely unravel me?

My heart was beating far too quickly.

And the worst part was that I didn’t want him to move his arm.

I wanted him closer.

“I’m sorry about today,” I whispered.

“I don’t want to talk about that, Gabrielle.” The softness in his voice was gone.

“Okay.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Uhm… do you remember that day in the locker room? When you said… that maybe holding my hand would—”

“Don’t.” The word was quiet but firm.

“Kayden…”

“What do you want from me?” he asked hoarsely.

I turned. He was looking at me now. His expression was impossible to read, but there was a rawness in his eyes that made my stomach twist.

“Why do you keep trying to confuse me?” he breathed.

“I don’t—”

“You let me hold your hand.” His voice cracked. “You let me kiss you.” He shifted, creating enough distance that I could turn fully toward him. “You do all this stuff for me, Gabrielle, but then when you open your mouth, your words don’t match your actions. I don’t know where I stand with you. And yet here you are. In my bed. Asking me to hold your hand.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Why?”

I couldn’t answer.

“What did I do so wrong that you have to keep tormenting me like this?”

My throat burned and my heart sank. “I’m sorry.”

“You said you’re ashamed of me.” Kayden sounded on the verge of tears.

“Those were not my words, Kayden.”

“Then whose were they?”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The truth was complicated; I’d heard someone else’s judgment and I’d let it get inside my head, I’d let it become louder than my own feelings.

“I let someone else’s words bleed out.”

Kayden’s chin trembled, his head bobbing in quick nods as he tried to hold in a sob. “That’s because deep down in your heart, you’ve thought about it.”

“That’s not true,” I shook my head. 

“It is, Gabrielle,” he shot back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

I felt like something cracked inside me. It was the slow exhaustion of holding myself together for too long. My heart felt heavy. My eyes burned. I blinked once and a tear slipped down my cheek. I immediately turned my face away.

Too late.

Another tear followed.

And another.

I hated crying, especially in front of other people. 

My chin trembled as I looked back at Kayden. “I’m sorry.” The words barely made it past my lips. I wiped at my cheeks, but the tears kept coming. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I’m doing. Everyone thinks I have my life together, but that’s not true.” I looked down at my hands. “My head is a mess, Kayden. I keep trying to do the right thing, and somehow I just keep making everything worse.” I drew in a shaky breath. “And I’m just so sorry.”

My voice became barely audible.

“I’ll just leave you alone.” I pushed the covers aside.

I barely got halfway upright before Kayden’s arm tightened around me. He pulled me back against him.

I gasped softly. “Kayden—”

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was muffled against the fabric of my pajamas at my waist. His arms were firm enough that I knew he meant it.

But there was no anger in the gesture, just warmth, a tenderness that I wasn’t prepared for.

“I think it’s better for me not to be here,” I whispered, stifling a sniffle.

“You’re afraid of the storm,” he murmured, his cheek brushing my back. “So you’re sleeping here until it passes.”

He pulled me closer, his hand resting on my stomach. 

“We can have our differences, Gabrielle, but that shouldn’t stop us from being there for each other.”