You Before Me

by Lindsay Paige

  “Roll back over, Ryan. I wasn't done.”

  I laugh at his disregard for my question, but I do as he wants. “There's more than those two, you know that, right?”

  “Yes.” He kisses the center of my back, his fingers moving over my skin once more. This time, he's touching the pink seahorse. Gabe adds, “But these are my favorite. Tell me why you got them.”

  For a moment, I hesitate. This is Gabe, though, and I trust him. I go over in my head what I want I want to say, trying to find words to fit what these tattoos mean to me. Memories swirl around me from the images inked onto my body. Feeling ready, I begin to tell Gabe the story behind each of them.

  “They are all related to my grandmother, now that I really think about it. She was the only grandparent I'd ever known, and she was an amazing person. When I was little, she was the one to teach me how to make wishes on dandelions, and I loved it. She used to tell me that after I made the wish, the seeds blew away so my wish could be granted. I'll still do it if I see one.

  “My grandmother took me to the aquarium once. I thought the seahorses looked a little odd compared to most of the other fish we saw. They were beautiful, though. Just different. When I told her, she laughed. I'll never forget what she said either. She told me that it's the differences between all life that makes it beautiful.

  “And the hummingbird is in memory of her. She died when I was eleven and absolutely loved hummingbirds. She had little figurines and paintings all over her house, and a bunch of hummingbird feeders outside. That was my very first one. As you've seen, they piss my parents off, so that's a bonus.”

  And then reality comes crashing back down. His father hates me, and Gabe had to witness a public shaming by my mother. My mother who doesn't have a clue that my hummingbird is because of her mom, my grandmother. She doesn't know that they are all tied to my grandmother, but she should have at least known about the hummingbird. That should have been obvious. What she said about my tats today is probably why Gabe asked in the first place. I bury my face into the pillow, feeling Gabe shift next to me.

  “Hey,” he starts quietly, pulling some of my hair away in an attempt to see me. “Remember what I said. Ignore them.”

  I turn my head so only one eye is looking at him. He's so sweet.

  “C'mon. You can help me make supper.” Gabe kisses my temple, his beard scratching my skin, before getting out of bed. I roll over and watch his bare ass walk across the room to his dresser. He's too yummy with those strong legs, bubble butt, and broad, muscular back. Gabe's body is too perfect. A tattoo would tarnish it, I decide.

  “You didn't say I would have to help,” I tease.

  He glances over his shoulder as he steps into a pair of gray pajama pants. “Did I forget to mention that part?”

  “Yes, you did.” I toss the sheets aside and walk over to where my bag is still hanging on the door. I can feel Gabe watching me, so I add, “Don't get distracted again, Officer. I'm starving.”

  He chuckles behind me. As I'm pulling out my pjs, he slaps me hard on the ass and then whispers huskily in my ear, “I won't. Hurry up.” Then he walks passed me and down the hall like nothing just happened.

  I shake my head and get dressed in a black and white striped cami with matching shorts. I pick our wet clothes up off the floor.

  “Gabe?” I call out. “Does this door by the other bedroom lead to the washer and dryer? I'm going to toss our clothes in there.”

  “Yeah, but just put them in the hamper. I've got to wash clothes and I'll throw those in there too.” He pauses, and as I open the door to do as he said, I hear, “By the time you get in here, I'll be halfway done.”

  “Shut up,” I laugh. Once I toss the clothes into the hamper, I go into the kitchen. The rain has calmed down outside, but it's still coming down. Streaks of lightning can be seen from his kitchen window. Gabe is standing in front of his fridge with the door open. “What are we having anyway?”

  “Well, let's see. You can get a salad going, and I'll start the pork chops.” Gabe starts pulling things out of the fridge, and I take them from him, setting them on the counter.

  “Sounds good. What else are we having with the pork chops?”

  “How about...” He closes the fridge and walks over to his pantry, opening it up. “Mashed potatoes?” Gabe glances at me, and I nod.

  We get things underway, him at the stove and me close to the sink, putting a salad together. I cut my eyes over at him, feeling a little odd to be in his kitchen, helping with supper. It's such a relaxed, couple type thing to do.

  Tentatively, I ask, “Gabe?”

  “Yeah?” He answers without looking at me.

  I don't know why I'm thinking this, but I am. It's something I want to know, and I don't want a repeat. Of course, my big mouth is going to ask him anyway. “You do realize what just happened, right? You're not going to freak and kick me out halfway through our meal?”

  He spins to face me. “What? Ryan, no. I-”

  “You don't have to say anything, Gabe. I don't want to see that look again, and I don't want you to regret it, that's all.”

  Gabe walks over, placing his hands on my hips to make me turn my body towards him. “I didn't regret it the first time. I was disappointed in myself and-”

  “We don't need to go over it again.” I give him a quick kiss before changing the topic. “If you burn the food, I'll never forgive you.”

  He chuckles and turns back to the stove. As I cut up a cucumber, I think about what a crazy day it's been. I've always felt comfortable physically around Gabe, but now I'm not even worried about speaking my mind and asking him things I wouldn't normally ask. Just as I'm about to ask him about his father, there's a knock on the door. Our heads automatically turn towards the noise. My eyes widen when I recognize his mother, thanks to the pictures on his mantel. I'm not even wearing a bra! Gabe brushes his hand on my lower back as he passes me to open the door. If that's supposed to be a reassurance, it isn't.

  Once again, I'm reminded of the differences in our families. These people love each other a lot. Enough that they share important things about their lives with one another and hold their opinions with a high regard. When I was looking at the photos earlier, I could see their happiness, their closeness, and the pride they had in each other. That's how a family should be. Not like the group of people I call my family. Even now, Gabe is a bit anxious over what his mother is thinking. I can hear it in his tone as he tries too hard to relax.

  “Mom, hey. What are you doing here?” Gabe questions as she steps inside, little wet circles on her light blue shirt from the rain.

  How does this look to her? Me in my skimpy pjs with no bra and Gabe shirtless in pajama pants at seven in the evening. My hair is still half wet and probably all messy from the rain and sex. Her lips are pursed as she gives me a once over. I focus on the cucumbers, so I don't have to look at her and see her immediate disdain for me. Maybe if I pretend she isn't here, then she'll magically disappear.

  “I texted you to let you know I was coming, Gabriel. I thought it was odd that you didn't reply, but now I can see you were busy. Your father told me about today,” she says as if that explains it all. Her Southern hospitality kicks in, and I hear her footsteps coming closer to me. Oh, God. “Hello.” I turn to see her stick her hand out to me. “I'm Gabriel's mother, Camilla. You must be Ryan.”

  I set the knife down and reluctantly shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Gabe looks as worried as I feel. “Gabe, I'm going to, uh, throw those clothes in the washing machine.” Abandoning my task, I hurry out of the room, desperate to get away from her.

  Faintly, I can hear their conversation because like the girl I am, I left the door opened a crack so I could listen.

  “I'm sorry I didn't get your message, Mom,” Gabe says. “What did Dad say?”

  She doesn't answer right away. I toss some clothes into the washing machine. “Gabriel,” she chides. “She's so young.” Oh, fuck. Not that again. “When your father told me th
at, I wanted to come speak with you and see what's going on. You didn't bring her to the house today. By the cooking you're doing right now, y'all haven't even eaten yet.” I hear Gabe shuffling around, probably keeping an eye on the food. I try to be as quiet as possible so I can hear everything. “I don't want you to make the same mistakes again. And she has tattoos, Gabriel.”

  Crap. She probably saw my tats when I walked away. See, this, us, we aren't a good thing.

  “Mom, I love you, but stop, please. You know I never bring a girl to meet you until I'm sure. I haven't been seeing Ryan that long.”

  “And she's already spending the night? Already so comfortable in your house that she's doing a load of laundry?” She interrupts.

  “This is her first time here. Just listen to me for a second. Yeah, Ryan's a little young and has tattoos, but she's a good girl, Mom. I'm certain of that.” Good? What the hell is he talking about? “I like her a lot. Once I finish getting to know her like I want, we'll all get together for dinner.” Thanks for asking me about this, Gabe!

  “Okay. I just don't want you to get hurt again, Gabriel. You're too good for your own benefit sometimes and miss some of the key indicators.”

  “I know, but don't judge her based on tonight or her age or whatever else. That's not right,” he says gently. “When I'm ready and when Ryan is ready, you can officially meet her, learn about her, get to know her, and then you'll see that she's different. Until then, don't judge.”

  If I wasn't in here hiding and if his mother wasn't out there, I would run and hug him.

  “All right then. I won't. Are you coming over tomorrow?”

  The cabinet over the washing machine creaks as I open it to get the detergent. I cringe before I remember that's why I'm in here, so it doesn't matter if they hear me.

  “No. I have to go in late afternoon.”

  “Maybe next week then. I best get going.”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  “Bye, Gabriel.”

  I hear fading footsteps, a door opening and closing, and then more footsteps coming closer. I press the buttons to start the cycle. The door opens, and Gabe stands on the other side. His lips part to speak, but I practically tackle hug him. His arms automatically go around me, even though he's confused.

  “Sorry, I was eavesdropping, but thank you for what you said,” I whisper into his neck.

  He chuckles at my reaction, finally returning my hug like he means it. “You're welcome.” When I pull away, he adds, “C'mon. You need to finish your job because the food is about done.”

  As we're walking back into the kitchen, I ask him, “Did you become a cop so you could order people around?”

  Gabe laughs. “No. That's just a perk.” After we're back in our places, he says, “I don't like ordering people around. Not how you're thinking anyway.”

  I roll my eyes, ignoring him. Ten minutes later, we're sitting down at his table to eat. Absentmindedly, I run my foot up and down his leg, sometimes slipping underneath his pants to touch his skin directly. I realize that this will make my second Sunday spent with Gabe. Just as I'm about to mention that he must be lucky, his eyes snap from his fork to me.

  “Ryan, you've got to stop that.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Your foot. Stop.”

  My foot freezes, and I realize I was starting to go up his thigh. I bring my foot back to me. “Sorry, I wasn't really paying attention to that.”

  He laughs. “You barely knew what you were doing, and it was all I could think about.” He shakes his head, taking another bite of food.

  I can't resist smiling. After a moment, I compliment him on dinner and then finally bring up what I was going to say. “You're a lucky guy, you know.”

  “Oh yeah? Why's that?”

  “We're spending a Sunday together again. You're turning my Me Day into an Us Day.”

  Gabe smiles. “I am pretty lucky then.”

  We eat the rest of our meal in relative silence. I help Gabe put things away and help him wash dishes. With a glance at the clock, I realize I might need to get up with Viv. It's been so hectic today that I forgot she's expecting me to go with her to a party tonight.

  “Be right back,” I tell Gabe. I grab his keys which are by the door and unlock his car. My purse is still in there because I was too busy getting wet to remember to grab it. The rain has momentarily stopped, so I run out to get my purse, wiping my feet on the mat when I come back. I lock his doors and shut the house door. “I forgot to text Viv,” I explain when I see Gabe looking at me curiously.

  “I'm going to check on the clothes,” he says over his shoulder, already walking away.

  I decide to call her quickly instead of texting. Sometimes, I just don't feel like bothering with a text. And with all the questions Viv might fire at me, verbally telling her is a lot quicker.

  “Where are you? I was just at your place. Your car is here, but you aren't. Are you still with Gabe?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I didn't call you sooner.” I glance down the hallway, seeing that the door is still open a bit. “Things haven't exactly gone as planned today.”

  “What do you mean? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine. I'll explain later, but I'm not going to the party tonight.”

  Viv sighs. “Ryan, it's a huge party! You know it always is when the frat boys throw one. I can't believe you aren't going.”

  “Why are you so upset over this one party?” I ask suspiciously.

  Viv is quiet for a moment. “I needed you as backup because I was going to hang with this guy. You're my backup plan, you know that! Who am I going to make my excuse if things go South?”

  “You really want to hang with this guy?” I question, looking at the door hiding Gabe and feeling guilty that I bailed.

  “Yes, but don't leave for me, Ryan.”

  “No, it's fine. I did say that I would go with you.” I regret every word that comes out of my mouth as Gabe exits the laundry room and starts walking over to me with purpose. “I'll get Gabe to take me home, and I'll get ready for the party.” Gabe frowns slightly, but doesn't say anything as he grabs my hips, tugging me against him. God, he's hard again.

  “No, Ryan, don't do that. How about this? You be on standby and if I need you, I'll text you. Then the officer can race you over here to save me.”

  “Who is this guy anyway?” I ask, wondering why she's extra worried. She names the leader of the frat boys. Someone I've slept with before, but she doesn't know that. If everyone I've slept with was off limits to her, she would have to resort to the freshmen mostly. “You don't need to worry about him, Viv, but my phone will be on the highest volume, okay?” Gabe starts kissing my neck. What's got him so horny all of a sudden?

  “All right. Have fun,” she sings.

  “Mhm. Bye.”

  His voice grumbles against my neck. “Do I need to take you home?”

  “No,” I breathe as his hands glide up my body, causing my shirt to rise as well.

  “Good.” His lips trail over my shoulder.

  “What are we going to do for the rest of the night?” I ask as the rain starts to pour again.

  Gabe lifts his head to look at me, a grin upon his lips. “What do you want to do, Ryan?”

  I think about it for a moment before the light bulb goes off over my head. It's a bit of a gamble and I've never done anything truly like it before, but it's worth a shot. “I think we should be in the kitchen for a bit, then the living room, and then move to the spare bedroom.” I let my fingers walk up his chest. “And maybe the laundry room? What about against that wall in the hallway too?”

  Gabe tilts his head. “In every room of my house?”

  Leaning in close to whisper in his ear, I say, “Yes, I want you to fuck me in every room of your house.”

  Gabe tenses, but then steps around me. I'm about to ask what he's doing, but he's just closing the blinds on the window of the door.

  “On the table.”

  A thrill ru
ns through me at his order. I move a chair out of the way and hop up to sit on the table. He disappears down the hall and into his bathroom but reappears moments later with a condom. Gabe walks over and pushes the napkins and salt and pepper shakers that are behind me out of the way before finally settling between my knees. He grabs my waist and scoots me forward so I'm on the edge of the table.

  “Lift your hips.”

  With my hands on either side of me, I do. Gabe hooks his fingers in the waistband of my shorts and yanks them off. God, he's fucking hot when he gets like this. He's clearly thinking about only one thing, and that is what he's about to do to me. The condom is tossed onto the table before Gabe pulls the chair over, taking a seat.

  “Lay down on the table, Ryan.”

  I lean back on the table as Gabe spreads my knees, muttering about how wet I am already. He kisses my inner thigh but switches to the other one before finally bringing his mouth down on me, his beard scratching my skin. Fuck. When I look, all I can see is a head full of curls between my legs. Gabe's mouth is hot as he sucks before piercing me with his tongue. My mind and body surrender completely to him right then and there. I'm lost in an ocean of scorching, never-ending pleasure.

  When Gabe brings me to the brink, he pushes me backwards, making me wait. He commands me to sit up and put the condom on him, my hands trembling with need. And then he fucks me on the kitchen table. My body is weak and shaking from the orgasm, but Gabe picks me up and we're off to the next room. After each powerful climax that makes me scream from the top of my lungs, I don't think I can do it again. I'm out of energy until Gabe tugs me to the next location and gets me all hot and wet to the point where I have to have him inside me again.

  Once we've made our rounds, our clothes somewhere between his room and the kitchen, he plops onto the bed. Thank God. I didn't think his energy would ever run out. Unfortunately for him, we're not quite done yet. My mouth waters with what I want to do. His hooded eyes watch me as I crawl over him, my breasts brushing against his legs.

  “Ryan,” he starts as I wrap my fingers around his cock and swirl my tongue over the tip. He groans instantly, and I know he's extra sensitive. I lick and suck down his shaft, dragging noises from Gabe as I do so.