Page 181 of Make Us Yours
“We don’t know that.” Her eyes go wide.
“We do,” Lionel answers for me.
I watch with a happy smile as they continue to bicker about whether or not Shane knows who the baked goods are from. I’m happy to see Aubrey getting along so well with him; it reassures me that she’ll be safe at the condo alone.
Now if only this asshole could show his face and get this all over with.
GABRIEL
~ Two WeeksLater / October ~
Next week is our first home opener of the season, and I am beyond thrilled to get back in the game. I know we’ve been having exhibition games, but that’s not the same. I want to get back on the ice, hear all the fans shouting with every victory. That exhilarating sensation that flows through your blood as the puck comes flying your way, and you catch it just in time before it passes the red line and into the goal.
God, hockey is where I belong. It feels like home.
But that’s not the only place that feels like home. No, the only other place is in the arms of a five-foot-ten, slim, blue-colored hair beauty.Fuck, how did I ever get so lucky to have this amazing creature in my life?
I lean against the doorframe to the bathroom, watching her finish straightening her hair in the mirror. She had it changed yesterday to a vivid dark blue with pure white ends. It’s sexy as fuck and gives her this naughty glint in her eyes.
When I asked her why she was straightening her hair, since it’s naturally straight to begin with, she gave me the‘are you dumb?’look and didn’t say anything. So, I quickly shut up and instead have been standing here for the past hour, taking in every step of her beauty routine.
“Don’t you have something better to do? Like maybe get ready?” She looks over from the corner of her eye. She’s being sassy, but I don’t miss the little smirk playing along her lips.
I look down at my dark blue jeans and gray sweatshirt that cling to my muscles with the sleeves pulled up to my elbows. I even have my black sneakers on my feet. I don’t know how much more ready I can get.
“I am ready.” I narrow my eyes at her. “I’ve been ready for the past hour, compared to you,” I finish with a smirk that earns me a glare.
“Yes, well, having you standing there is distracting me.”
“Oh, is it?” I step into the bathroom, coming behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist as I rest my chin on her shoulder. “How so?”
“Because you keep looking at me like you want to eat me, and it’s making my panties wet. Again.” She smiles at me through the mirror.
Twenty minutes ago, she left the bathroom without saying a word and headed for the closet, where she quickly took off her thong and exchanged it for another. When I chuckled, she told me to shut up and went back to getting ready. I like knowing I affect her this easily.
“But I like getting you all wet.” I nibble at her neck. “I could take care of you right here, right now, if you’d like,” I whisper into her ear.
“Don’t you dare, we’re already five minutes behind schedule. Now go away. I’m nearly finished.” She turns her face to the side and pecks my lips before shooing meaway.
“All right, all right. I’m going.” I lift my hands in surrender and walk backwards out of the ensuite, taking one last lingering look at her.
She’s wearing a tight black leather skirt that reaches her mid-thigh with a white long-sleeved shirt that’s glued to her body and tucked into the waistband of the skirt. Instead of her usual thigh-high stockings or socks, she has a pair of black heeled boots that reach just above her knees. Her makeup is pretty simple, with cat-eyed black eyeliner, a bit of gold eyeshadow, and nude lipstick. She looks sexy as sin.
I finally leave her alone and head down to make sure Noah’s ready as well. We’re about to head over to Burkley’s for their gender-reveal party. And unlike Cecilia’s, where Silas couldn’t keep his mouth shut, no one knows the sex of the babies, not even the parents.
I find him standing in the living room, fingers tracing over one of the picture frames Ronnie hung in the living room for him. All the pictures he apparently had of his sister and father. Of the family he no longer gets to see, but that follows him everywhere he goes.
He’s been doing this a lot over the past week, where he’s present, but we can tell his mind is elsewhere. Dr. Hallaway said it was all a normal step of grieving. That we should simply let him be but remind him that we love him and are here for him if he needs to talk.
“Hey,” I say softly, stepping up beside him.
His hand drops from the frame, but his eyes remain focused on the picture. It’s one of him as a young boy, holding his baby sister in his arms. She must have been only a few weeks, old given the tiny onesie and newborn hat on her head.
“Hey.”
He’s dressed similarly to me. But instead of blue and gray, he has light-gray jeans on, with a white sweatshirt, sleeves pulled up, and white sneakers on his feet.
I place my hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “You know we’re here for you, brother. Anything you need, just say the word.”
