“Aubrey? What are you?—”
“Don’t take the job,” I blurted, still struggling to calm my lungs so the words came out somewhat normal. At least I’d caught him in time.
It might have been surprise that flashed across his face, but it was hard to tell with the the cramp stabbing my side like a carving fork. Gabe stepped back to hold the door open. “Here, come inside.”
I shuffled into the space that had become my own kind of sanctuary these past months, the familiar punching bags and weight racks helping to even out my breathing.
Gabe lowered his gym bag to the floor. “What’s going on?”
The air seemed to suck from the room as he trained his focus on me, my words no longer wanting to come out. Not now that my initial panic had subsided, and I registered the frizzy mess my hair had become. My armpits were damp with sweat, and I had at least three new stains on my chef pants from this morning.
It triggered a new kind of panic. One that squeezed the sides of my lungs so it felt like I was breathing through a straw.
More than with Jillian or Jase, my body resisted opening in this way for fear of coming up short. Of losing this person who for so long had been a touchpoint but now felt structural to my life. As if he were a support beam or staircase that helped me access parts of myself I hadn’t known how to fully reach.
What I said next might change that. Maybe not so much that I lost him completely, but enough to form a wall between us. One of measured pleasantries and polite interactions that scraped my skin raw with each awkward smile.
In the dim shadows, his gaze was a spotlight, leaving me with nothing to hide behind and nothing to offer. Nothing but myself.
I almost offered more. Money to help him buy his own gym. Specifically, the money I’d gotten from my grandma’s house.
It wasn’t a ton in the grand scheme of things, but Patrick had helped me invest it after the sale, so it was more now than it had been. Enough to get Gabe a bank loan or possibly buy a place outright if he got a good deal.
But the idea sounded a lot like the voice in my head I’d clung to all those years telling me the only way anyone would care about me was if I offered something else. Something more. And I didn’t want Gabe to stay because of the gym. I wanted to be enough without anything else.
The more I challenged that voice, the more I believed I was.
Even if Gabe said no and moved to Colorado and we went back to being just friends, or whatever version of Evan’s-best-friend-slash-big-brother we became, I was enough to ask for this.
I was enough to be okay, no matter the outcome.
Knowing it freed my lungs to take a full breath and steady my voice. “Don’t go to Colorado. Stay. I know this is your dream job, and I meant every word I said about you deserving it. You deserve happiness. So if this job is really what will give it to you, then I want you to take it. But I also just want you.”
His eyes flared with emotion as his chest expanded, and my words poured out faster.
“I want to sleep with the weight of your arm around me and wake with you warm in my bed. I want to eat breakfast together and for you to turn me into a morning person. I want to unwind with you on the couch after an event and laugh about the wedding speeches, and I want to watch you light up as you talk about Noah’s improved speed. I want to chase our dreams together and explore more than just sex. I want to build a future with you. And I know you’re meeting with Coach Dotson soon, and I’ll understand if you still accept?—”
His hand found my cheek as his mouth pressed to mine, dissolving the words from my lips. The tenderness of it stopped my breath as much as the kiss itself. How he lavished my lips with sweet presses as if sampling me, in no rush to stop. I rose onto my toes to get closer, equally desperate for him.
He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine. “I turned down the job.”
My pulse jumped. “What?”
“I called Coach Dotson this morning. We’re meeting in a little bit to talk strategy for Noah, but I told him I can’t accept the job. That my family is here, and so is the woman I love, and this is where I want to be.”
I tried to contain my smile and failed miserably. “Love?”
He released a laugh. “Yeah. I’ve been stumbling around for weeks trying to convince myself otherwise because I thought it was better for you that way. That my kind of love would only hurt you, but all I’ve done is fall harder.” He stroked my cheek. “I love you. Completely. From your never-ending shoe collection to the way you talk to your plants when you water them, and how you’ll ask for to-go containers even if you don’t plan to eat the leftovers because you want the chef to think you liked it. I love how strong you are in the way you lead your life but that you never let that strength harden you or shy away from how you feel.
“And I should have told you sooner. Should have said it last night, or at your apartment after the tournament, or on your birthday. I should have admitted it to both of us a long time ago. Just like I should have admitted you’re the reason I came back to Philly in the first place.” He ran his thumb along my jaw. “You reminded me what home could feel like. Made me want one for real. I just didn’t trust myself to have one the way I wanted. To haveyouthe way I wanted. Not after everything with Mom.”
My heart squeezed, too full to maneuver around the swell of emotion overflowing my chest. In a different way, I hadn’t trusted myself either. Maybe we’d both struggled to feel like enough.
“You do now?” I asked.
“I’m working on it. I actually asked Jase about seeing if his therapist recommends any grief counselors. I realized none of my family has really dealt with my mom’s death. We’ve been going through the motions, mostly trying to avoid the pain, but that doesn’t feel like enough anymore. He sent me the link to a support group I’m going to try.”
Hearing it brought tears to my eyes. That he’d reached a place where he was ready to face the blame he’d placed on his shoulders surrounding her death. That he was ready to try to find peace with himself.
