Damn.
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard to fight back the emotion clogging her throat. Was she seriously about to cry after sex? Who did that?
Gabe went limp on top of her, and she freed her hands from his so she could hug him close. She inhaled him deep into her lungs and held on to that breath for as long as she could, wanting more of him inside her. Wanting all of him inside her.
I’m so far gone, she thought as the breath she’d been holding burst from her lungs and she breathed him in again.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I’m going to roll over and go to sleep now.”
Typical man, she thought with a grin.
“And pretend I didn’t just give you my heart.”
Or not so typical. What was she supposed to say to that?
He slid from her body and rolled beside her. Instead of closing his eyes and commencing to snore, he lifted a hand and traced the lines of her face with one finger.
“You’ll probably need a replacement for that heart you just gave me,” she said.
He lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Will mine do?” she said huskily.
He covered her pounding heart with one hand and smiled that wide gorgeous grin that made her toes curl in pleasure. “It seems to be in good working condition. I’ll take it.”
Chapter Eighteen
A strange sound pulled Melanie from sleep. Heart thudding, she blinked her eyes open. It took her a moment to recognize the dimly lit room and massive, walnut furniture as Gabe’s. A heavy weight lay across the center of her back. That also belonged to Gabe. She smiled in contentment and closed her eyes once again, only for them to spring back open when Gabe groaned in his sleep.
He thrashed in the tangled covers, kicking Melanie hard in the shin.
She cringed and tried to move out of his reach.
“No,” he moaned. “No, please.”
She barely avoided a fist to the ribs. If she was going to survive the night unscathed, she’d have to wake him from his nightmare.
“Gabe,” she said calmly, laying a hand on his shoulder. She gave him a gentle shake. “Sweetheart, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
“No!” he shouted and sat bolt upright, nearly knocking Melanie clean off the mattress. His eyes searched the room wildly, finally settling on her. He let out a heavy sigh and swung his long legs over the edge of the bed. He sat taking deep breaths and then scrubbed his eyes with both hands. He rested his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his palms, his breathing slowly returning to normal.
“Is everything okay?” Melanie asked. He’d looked terrified when he’d first opened his eyes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was haunting him so profoundly, but she asked anyway, because she wanted to be there for him if he needed her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“You’ll feel better.”
“I haven’t had that nightmare in years,” he said. “Stupid kid. Stupid f**king kid. Brought it all back. Fucking all of it.”
Melanie puzzled over his words for a moment. “The kid who hit your dog?”
He nodded slightly.
“He didn’t mean to,” Melanie said, not knowing what else to say.
“Did he mean to get drunk? Did he mean to get behind the wheel?”
“I-I guess so.”
“Then stop making excuses for the little shit.”
“I’m not. I guess I don’t understand why you’re more upset about him being drunk than him hitting Lady.”
She crept across the mattress and knelt behind him. When her hand touched his shoulder, he jumped as if she’d slapped him.
“What were you dreaming about?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do. Tell me.”
“He wasn’t dead, Melanie.”
She crinkled her brow. “Of course he’s not dead, sweetheart. I’m sure he made it home safely. You worry too much.” As if she could talk.
“Not the kid from this afternoon,” he said. “Joey. They told his parents that he died instantly when he slammed into the tree. Told them that he didn’t suffer. It was a lie, Mel. A merciful lie, maybe, but still a lie.”
She slid her hand over his smooth back and rested her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue.
“I heard the crash. I knew it was Joey, and I ran to see what had happened. I didn’t have any problem locating the car. I just followed a strange orange glow in the distance. The car was on fire. I could hear him screaming, Melanie. He wasn’t dead.” Gabe ran one hand around his neck. “I never heard anyone scream like that before. When I got to the car, I stood there in shock. I couldn’t move. I didn’t help him. His legs were pinned, and the car was too damaged to get him out, but I didn’t know that at the time. I didn’t even f**king try to help him. It was like the whole thing was happening to someone else, like I wasn’t really there. Just watching a movie or something. Not watching a friend burn alive.”
Her heart ached for Gabe and for Joey, a boy she didn’t even know. A boy long gone.
“No one expected you to pull him out of a burning car, Gabe.”
“Someone did,” Gabe said. “Joey did.” He dropped his head. “He must have seen me standing there because what he was screaming and screaming and screaming was my name.” He covered his ears with both hands. “Standing there, I wished I was deaf. Wished I was deaf so I didn’t have to hear him scream. Why didn’t I wish for him to be saved, Melanie? Isn’t that what I should have been wishing for? I didn’t. I just wished I was deaf.”
She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling sick. She forced herself not to fall apart, wrapped her arms around him and hugged, hoping to give him strength. He was shaking so hard, he couldn’t even hug her back.
“There’s nothing you could have done,” she whispered.
He made a sound—half laugh, half moan of misery. “I could have taken his f**king keys away. I could have called his parents to come pick him up. I could have stopped him from driving. That would have been easy. Hearing him screaming for help? Not easy. Hearing it in my nightmares over ten years later? Still not easy.” He gripped his knees until his knuckles turned white. “Fuck. I should have done more to stop that kid this afternoon. What if he overturned the truck? What if he’s out in some desolate field, trapped inside, dying right now? No one would even know where to look for him.”