Page 80 of Not Safe For Work

Ever since we got caught in the elevator, I’ve felt feverish, my skin uber sensitive to any contact. Now that we’re alone, I wrap my arms around him immediately, wanting to fuse our lips together again.

He must feel the same because his kisses are hungry and demanding. He pulls off my blazer and throws it across the couch like he has a personal vendetta against linen.

“Wait,” he says, not actually pausing anything. He’s already unbuttoning my shirt for the second time today. “I need to explain.”

“It’s okay.”

He ignores me and kisses a trail across my neck. Then he unzips my skirt and drops to his knees.

“Gabby wasn’t talking to me,” he says, looking up into my eyes. He slowly slides off my shoes and plants a kiss on each ankle. “I’m not sure if you realize how close we are. It was killing me that we weren’t speaking. It was all I could think about.”

My skirt comes down next and he licks his lips when he sees the underwear that matches my bra. Apparently, Gavin is a big fan of lilac lace and tiny black bows.

“Is it okay if I don’t tell you the whole story? I will, I promise, just not yet.”

He stands up until his gaze meets mine and threads his fingers through my hair. His eyes hold the question in them and the sincerity I see makes me melt. Whatever this is between us is still new. I won’t be burdening him with my family drama anytime soon.

“Of course. I just hope you and Gabby are okay.”

“We are. We will be.” He trails his hands down my back, squeezes my ass and picks me up, walking us toward my bed. “All I want to think about for the rest of the night is you.”

We skip dinner.

But when my stomach starts rumbling, Gavin offers to go get snacks. He comes back with a hot fudge sundae from Ghirardelli. When you live as close as I do, it’s hard not to be tempted. All the air outside my apartment smells like chocolate and whipped cream.

“Have I atoned?” he asks, feeding me another bite.

“As much as I enjoy the groveling, we’re all good. I’m partially to blame as well.”

He sets down the empty cup on the nightstand and spreads out on my bed, pulling me down with him.

“Please tell me how you’re at fault for me keeping secrets.”

“We all have secrets, Scottie. You’re not required to tell me everything going on in your life.” I swallow thickly, hoping he agrees. The image of all of Tristan’s texts sits heavy in my chest. “And I don’t…never mind.”

“Tell me. What were you about to say?”

“I just—ugh. I have no experience doing this. I hate to agree with anything Ian said to me, but maybe Iamimmature. At least when it comes to…this. I never really dated in college. My brother Owen was only a year above me and he was so protective that I never had the chance. Every guy was terrified of him.

“And dating Ian was like a fucking minefield. It felt like I was always playing some game, but I was ten steps behind wherever he was. I never knew how I was supposed to act or look or what version of girlfriend he wanted.”

I blow out a breath, exhausted just thinking about it. I probably shouldn’t be spilling all of this to Gavin, but it feels good to do it. It feels even better that he’s actually listening.

“And with you, I don’t know. I’ve never had to be anything but myself with you. But suddenly, you’re MIA for two days and I got all weird. I was so in my head about it and then I’m the one playing mind games and I hate myself for it.”

“Mind games?”

“Yes! I mean,of courseI wanted to get dinner with you last night. And instead, I sat at home, hoping you were missing me? Like what the fuck is that about? I don’t want to do that. That’s not who I am. I just want to be me, and if that’s not good enough, then so be it.”

“Just for the record,” Gavin says. “I was missing you. And I don’t blame you for wanting to make me sweat a little. I could have at least given you a heads up when I was barely at the office for two days. Family stuff has just always been hard for me.”

“I understand,” I say, even as I’m thinking that I don’t. “Or—I want to, at least. If you ever feel like talking about it.”

He kisses me, just a soft brush of his lips.

“You’re not immature, Liv. And I’m begging you, please don’t try to be anything but yourself around me, okay?Youare my favorite thing.”

“Okay,” I breathe out, feeling lighter than I have all week. I yawn, suddenly, realizing how tired I am. “Do you wanna sleep here?”

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