Page 15 of Finding Fate

Icarefully sit on the edge of Maddox’s bed, looking around at the room. He only has basic furniture, like all he does is dress and sleep here. Nothing to show this space is his. I sigh. I’m not going to lie. It causes me pain to hurt him, even knowing it was out of my own damn heartache, but it’s so easy when I know I’m the one and only weakness he has. These are the moments I want to hate my dad the most, because he’s not only hurting Maddox, he’s also hurting me. Had he left me the fuck alone, those girls wouldn’t have been here, and then I wouldn’t be pissed. None of the times we’ve been apart have been because wewantedto break up, and that’s why it’s hard to stomach him with someone else. That was always the thing that made telling guys no to sex easy for me. It’s not like I didn’t have plenty of chances.

Guys cope with their dicks more times than they don’t. I know this. I even said it to myself when I realized what had happened. I should have just woke him up to begin with and none of this would have happened. He would have either been with me or known something was wrong when I didn’t come back. When it comes to my dad fucking our relationship up, I’ll always forgive him. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to make him grovel a little to earn it.

A knock sounds at the door. “Gabby, it’s Sayler.”

“Come in.”

She opens the door and wipes her cheek. “I know you probably want to be alone right now, but . . .” She sniffles. “Maddox isn’t breathing. They can’t calm him down long enough to get him to. He’s starting to turn blue.”

I shake my head and get off the bed. “That dumbass. Where is he?”

“In Konnor and Presley’s shower. They’re trying steam.”

“Take me to him.”

She takes off running down the top staircase, then hurries along the short hall to the other one. I follow her down both flights of stairs, across the house, through the kitchen, and into the master suite. The shower is running. Rain-like droplets hit against the tile floor. It’d be a soothing sound if male voices weren’t making commands for simple exercises that should be natural.

I walk through the bathroom door, my heart faltering a little at the sight of Maddox sitting on the shower floor, wet, legs outstretched in front of him and his back and head against the shower wall. His face is a disaster that consists of tears and discoloration, his lips blue, and his chest isn’t moving. His eyes lock with mine, but he doesn’t move.

Riggan looks at me from where he’s standing in the opening of the shower, worry marring his face. “Gab, you gotta do something. He’s freaking me the fuck out.”

I touch Riggan’s side to move past him, making my way into the shower. The water sprays me as I dart under it, keeping my hair out of its path, moving to the opposite side. I stop in front of him. “After all the shit we’ve been through, if you think I’m going to let you die now, you’ve got another thing coming, asshole.”

His mouth curves upward just a hair, but his chest still isn’t moving. Each foot on one side of his legs, I lower myself on his lap until I’m straddling him, and then I press my chest to his, dipping my hands under the back of his shirt so that I can feel his skin. As if he was waiting for me, his arms encircle my waist and he squeezes tight. Cheek to cheek, my lips to his ear, I say, “You may be a jackass sometimes, but I need you. Breathe with me.” His body relaxes a little. “Inhale.”

I breathe in deep, making it a verbal instruction. He follows, and though it’s shallow, it’s a start. “Exhale.”

I release a heavy breath. His is short. “Again. Inhale.” We both breathe in at the same time. His is better this time. “Exhale.”

With every one we do together they get deeper and longer, stronger, until finally, he starts breathing on his own, and before long, our chests are moving in a back and forth rotation, the oxygen around us sustaining life. “I’m sorry,” he cries, hugging me tighter. I ignore the throbbing when he brushes one of my lash marks on accident. “I swear to God I thought you left. I called you for hours. I messed up. I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. I can’t do this shit anymore, Gab. Nothing in this life matters to me without you in it.”

A door closes in the near distance. I pull my head back to look him in the eyes. God, he’s beautiful. Especially when you see him raw, like right now, where he hides nothing and doesn’t hold back. He doesn’t show it to many people. “I’m going to forgive you this time, but so help me God, if you shove your dick in anyone else but me, I will cut it off.”

He nods, his eyes targeted on my mouth. “I’ll do it myself and let you watch me.”

Knowing him, he probably would. “Did you at least shower the ho off you?”

The guilt in his green eyes is heart-wrenching. “I’ve never gone more than ten minutes after it’s over before breaking down in the shower scrubbing every part of me, including my mouth. I don’t want to be with other girls, Gabby. I do it for a mental break.”

I close my eyes for a second. I can’t tell him yet. We need to be right first. I open them and close the distance between his lips and mine. “I need to get my head on straight before we have sex again, but I want you to kiss me.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, his mouth connects with mine, and like a pair coming back together after being lost, everything feels right. To date, I’ve never felt so whole kissing another human being. Everything works and fits right. Glides effortlessly. We belong together, regardless of who tries to force us apart. Our lips bend and fold and mold against one another, tongues skim at the tips, and ridge of muscle appears between my legs, causing my eyes to roll back in my head and an accidental moan to slip. Despite the fact that his hands keep twitching, he keeps them where they are, hugged against my hips. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m rubbing against it.

He pulls away. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to.”

I push my lips against his again, and then smile against his mouth. “Remember the night we met? When you touched me in the backseat of your truck? The way you made me want it?”

“I’ll never forget the night we met,” he whispers.

I tug at his lips some more. “Yeah? Remind me.”

“The music was blasting. The stage lights were bright. The band was rocking out on stage. The spotlights started bouncing across the audience to get them going. I followed it. Then all of a sudden it landed on you. I’d never seen anything like you. Long blonde hair and heavy makeup. You were wearing this pair of jean shorts that barely covered your ass and a cut-up band tee shirt. Dancing to the music and singing along. You knew every word to that rock song. You were lost in it—arms in the air, rock symbol out, and feeling the music. I could tell. I was falling in love with someone I’d never met. I just wanted to be in your space.”

My heart is so fucking happy. Finally, after so much misery. I nibble on his bottom lip. “So what’d you do?”

“I started moving. You were drawing me in like a magnet. It took me a while to squeeze through that many people, but I finally made it. I didn’t realize you were there with a friend, so I waited patiently, until I had you alone.”

I kiss him again, the emotions overwhelming me. His breath is so heavy. “What’s the first thing you said to me?”