Page 142 of Bottle Shock
“So,” Gavin starts as we make the sort walk home, hand-in-hand. “Do I get to know what went down with you and Elle?”
Laughing, I shrug. “We talked and we’re good now.”
“For over two hours…”
“Was it two hours? Weird.” I pretend to think on something for a moment. “We ended up moving past it pretty quickly. She was hurt and you know how she gets when she’s hurt, she’s like a snake without venom. But then I explained it all, besides all the the sex, obviously. After that, we watched a bunch of videos on highland baby cows.”
He stops walking, standing in the middle of the path. “You mean to tell me I was sweating bricks, worried about my sister verbally attacking you or worse, and you two were giggling about videos of baby cows?”
“Highland baby cows,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
He shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to do with me.
“There was one other thing we discussed.”
“If it’s about more baby cows, I’m not sure if I’m interested.”
“Elyse said that Kathleen got fired.”
His shoulders lift like it’s not news to him.
“She came after you, she talked badly about Lily. So I took care of it.”
I want to ask more, but I don’t. It doesn’t matter. There will always be people like Kathleen—bitter, restless, looking for cracks to crawl into. I’m done wasting energy on people like that when there are better things to think about. Happier things. Sexier things.
“Well,” I say, tugging on his hand so he starts walking again, “wanna go get naked and talk about our feelings?”
His eyes drag over me slowly, deliberately, like he’s tracing over every curve. The corner of his lip lifts into a smirk that’s pure hunger.
I think he might’ve stopped listening after I said naked.
“I mean,” he says, voice low enough to vibrate in my chest, “if you’re offering.”
“Oh, I’m offering.” I toss him a look over my shoulder as I start walking again. “I’m practically begging.”
He catches up in two long strides, sliding his arm around my waist like he can’t stand even an inch of distance between us now. His fingers settle right at my hip, thumb drawing circles in a way that shouldn’t be distracting but is.
We walk the rest of the path like that—pressed close, steps syncing.
When we reach the porch, he turns me, crowding me gently up against the railing. Close enough that my breath gets tangled up in his.
“Before we get naked,” he says, tone deceptively even, “I need you to know something.”
His fingers slide down my spine. A drag so slow my eyes roll back. When his hands settle on the small of my back, I blink up at him, and immediately feel the shift in the atmosphere between is.
I swallow against the pulse in my neck, my heart beating erratic.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“I meant what I said.” He pauses, eyes soft and sure in a way that feels like it’s touching me. Like his gaze alone could pull me closer. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you.”
I suck in sharp rush of air.
I heard him shout it in the vineyard.
But people say a lot of things they don’t mean when tensions are high.
And I didn’t want to grab onto that declaration like it was real when there was a chance he only said it in the heat of the moment.
