Page 110 of Angel Eyes

“God, I love you. So fucking much. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.”

I wrapped her legs around me and staggered back against the wall, sinking to the floor. Pulling her to my chest, I rolled my forehead against hers, letting an unexpected sense of relief wash over me. Because sitting on the floor of my shower with Juliet in my arms, I knew I had found my forever.

Thirty-Eight

Juliet

Stay. It was the last word to slip past the barrier of my consciousness before I succumbed to sleep last night and the first to invade my thoughts when I woke this morning.

I blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the windows before glancing over my shoulder at Gabriel’s sleeping form. Carefully, I extricated myself from his forearm banded around my waist and pushed into a seated position. My gaze roamed over his features, soft with sleep, and I pushed back a curtain of dark curls spilling over his eyes, my heart swelling with affection when he leaned into my touch.

Stay with me.

I’d heard that, right? My brain had been fuzzy last night, especially after all the excitement of Nora and James’s party and finding out they were having a baby boy. Still, I was pretty sure I’d heard Gabriel whisper those words to me just as I was falling asleep, and I didn’t think he meant stay as in stay the night. I’d already been crashing at his place for a few weeks, so the only other thing he could have meant was he wanted me to stay stay.

As in, here in Paris.

With him.

Ever since Versailles, we’d neglected to talk about the future. Whether that was because we were avoiding the discussion altogether or were too busy enjoying each other’s company, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to believe it was the latter. Either way, my departure for New York was fast approaching, and eventually, we would have no choice but to talk about what would happen after I left.

Could we really make a long-distance relationship work?

Though I hadn’t said anything, I had no intention of holding Gabriel to what he’d said about following me to New York. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe he would—it’s just I would never let him. Why should he have to give up everything just to be with me?

As for me staying in Paris, that seemed so outside the realm of possibility, it was almost laughable. My time here was only ever meant to be for the summer. Was I just supposed to abandon my life in New York, my career that had taken years to build? I could only imagine what my colleagues would say.

And then there was my family and friends to consider. Ember, Grace, my grandmother. Grandma had become my biggest advocate since my grandfather passed, bragging to all her Upper East Side friends that I was on the partner track at my firm and constantly reminding me of how proud my grandfather would be if he were here.

I couldn’t let them all down—I just couldn’t.

Fingers closed around my wrist, and my eyes fell to Gabriel, his dark lashes fanning over the curve of his cheekbones as he stirred beside me.

“Good morning.” I leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead. In a heartbeat, his arm snaked around me, and I shrieked with laughter as he pulled me beneath him.

“Bonjour,” he said, burying his face in the crook of my neck, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my T-shirt.

My breath hitched. “Gabriel, no. I’m still sore from yesterday.” I felt the curve of his smile against the base of my throat, and I rolled my eyes, poking him in the ribs. “Where’s the off button on this thing?”

He smirked, moving my hand to the waistband of his sweatpants. “Down and a little to the left,” he said with a sleepy wink. I snorted as he rolled onto his back, dragging me with him. “All right, I’ll behave.” He reached up to push a lock of hair behind my ear. “How did you sleep?”

“Good.” I dropped my head onto his shoulder, tracing the shape of his lips with a finger. I paused, chewing on whether to mention the stay thing. I decided not to. A drowsy confession on the precipice of sleep was one thing, but I didn’t want to bring it up in the light of day until we were both ready to have that conversation. Instead, I asked the question that had been hanging over my head for weeks like a dark cloud.

“Gabriel, who’s Elise?”

He stiffened, his grip on my waist tightening. “No one you need to worry about.”

I frowned. If she was no one to worry about, why didn’t he want to tell me who she was?

A gnawing feeling churned in the pit of my stomach. I thought we were past this. I had forgiven Gabriel for shutting me out the night of the gala, but did he plan to continue keeping things from me? I pulled out of his grasp, moving toward the edge of the bed, but before I could gain my feet, he caught my arm.

“Wait, I’m sorry.”

I swiveled toward him. “Don’t you trust me?”

A deep line appeared between his brows. “I do. My heart knows I can trust you, but my head …” He clamped his eyes shut. “It’s difficult for me to trust people, Juliet.”

My chest tightened. “Gabriel, if you can’t trust me then—”

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