Gabriel banged on her door for about five minutes. She'd locked him out.
"Abigail-god-damn-it," he yelled at the door.
"Give her time to cool down, man," Rafe said behind him.
"Shut-up. This is all your damn fault," Gabriel snapped pounding the door three more times. If it weren't because he had three broken ribs, a busted leg, and a barely healed collarbone he'd have busted the door down by now.
Michael leaned against said doorframe, eyes flashing in irritation. "Would you calm the fuck down, you idiot. All you're doing is making things worse."
Gabriel glared at him, trying to get his ragged, infuriated panting under control. He had a point.
Gabe gripped his crutches with knuckle-whitening intensity as he directed his hostile stare at the door accusingly.
She'd gone to him. Daniel. When she'd texted him back that she was at the Montenegro estate he'd almost sent his phone through the glass doors of the downstairs game room.
Trying to keep a grip on his volatile temper, he immersed himself in music.
At Michael's insistence, they'd worked on the first song he'd written for Abigail. He'd pretty much spilled his pathetic guts in that song. Christ. Mike was right. He had it bad, like never before.
And then she tells him she's at Daniel's house.
Knife straight to the heart, kick to the balls.
He didn't need to look behind him to know the rest of the guys were standing there, witnessing all the drama.
How he hated drama.
Taking a deep breath, "Erica, get me the ring of keys I have by the fridge up in the kitchen."
Dainty footsteps sounded up the stairs.
Michael's quasi-unibrow almost touched across the bridge of his broken nose. "Seriously, Gabe. What are you doing?"
Gabriel gave him a calm face, despite his roiling inner emotions. "I'm gonna talk to my girl."
Behind them, Angelo snorted.
One of Mike's brows rose a bit. "Talk?"
Gabriel pursed his lips. "Yeah, talk."
They stood there staring at each other. Mike didn't believe him, but he'd show them he could handle this. It wasn't going to be like the time...Gabriel frowned, trying to remember a time when he'd been able to remain cool.
Michael's brows rose a bit more.
"Well there's a first time for everything," Gabriel hissed.
Erica skipped over with the keys.
Gabriel found the right one and unlocked the door.
Turning, he glared at the guys. "Privacy, please."
They stayed right where they were; Rafe leaning against the pool table texting his buddies currently sitting around the outdoor lounge area waiting for him to give them the signal things had calmed down inside, Angelo sitting on the pool table even though he knew Gabriel hated that, Erica standing near Mike, who was still leaning against the doorframe with his bulky arms now folded over his chest, dubious expression still irritatingly fixed on his mug.
Gabriel entered her room...and almost stepped in puke.
He wrinkled his nose. "Shit." She'd gotten sick?
Healthy dose of guilt now beating him up from the inside out, he hobbled over to where he heard water running.
Abigail leaned over one of the double sinks, splashing water in her face. She looked pale, eyes closed and breathing open-mouthed.
He did that. To her. The girl who'd made him glad he opened his eyes every morning.
Grabbing a face towel and tossing it over his shoulder he made his way to her.
She finally straightened, their eyes meeting in the mirror.
He offered her the towel. Without turning to face him, she took it, mumbling her thanks and then dried her face.
So many things he needed to say. He didn't know where to start. He was still pissed she'd gone back to the mansion in Laguna Beach. Scared of her reaction in knowing he'd had her living in his beach house with the pretext of being a housekeeper to some secret person. He really didn't want anyone to know his secret hideaway. Just the guys and his grandmother. Now Rafe had brought a bunch of people over via the bay.
Fuck.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he said, needing to know.
She blinked, her teeth nipping her lower lip. Her gaze darted away from his, disconnecting from him.
Not good.
He crowded her, blanketing her back with his body, lips almost brushing her ear. A violent shiver went through her.
"Abigail," he breathed out, the heat of her already making him hard. "I was going out of my mind knowing you were him."
Her eyes snapped open. He slid his gaze back to the mirror to see how wide her pupils were. He affected her too. It wasn't just his blood flowing like lava through his veins right now.
"I already told you. Mikayla called me."
He closed his eyes, turned his nose to sniff at her fragrant hair. How he wished it were unbound so he could bury his face in the golden mass.
"Abigail, I love you."
She made a strangled sound in her throat.
He turned to look at her reflection again. Her eyes were closed, glittering wetness flooding her lashes.
"You lied to me," she got out through clenched teeth.
"About who owned this place?" Her eyes snapped back open, full of hurt, anger, and accusation. "I try to keep that information secret, Abigail. I didn't want anyone to know this place is mine. I was going to tell you. We just hadn't gotten around to talking about it. I was scared you'd leave and go back to Laguna." Just thinking about it made him want to go ape-shit.
She let out a pent up breath, her eyes focusing on the silver faucets in front of her.
"I was going to get a job, a little apartment," her voice sounded small. "I was finally going to stand on my own two feet."
Gabriel frowned, not understanding. He'd given her a place to stay. His home. Their home. And he'd given her money. She didn't need a fucking job.
Her eyes rose to meet him in the mirror again. He didn't really like what he saw in them. "I need to leave, Gabriel."
No. Time to change tactics.
*******
His face fell. "You're going to abandon me? When I need you most?"
The deep tone of his voice, so soft, made goose bumps rise on her arms.
"You're hardly alone, Gabriel."
His lips pressed together, green eyes full of hurt and disappointment. "Mike has his hands full with Erica and her condition. Ariel is a manic depressive, drunk most of the day, asleep the rest. Rafe? I don't want Rafe here with his shit. Who does that leave? My eighty-nine-year-old grandmother? No way am I making her have to tend to me. She's done enough for me. Sharmane takes care of her. Diamond?"
Abigail winced. Oh-God, not that woman!
Gabriel snorted humorlessly, "Yeah-no."
He stared at her through the mirror until he turned away, head down. "Yeah, Abs. I get it. You need to get on with your life. Don't worry about me. I can get through this alone."
He made his way slowly toward the door, his right crutch catching with the throw rug in the middle of the stark white bathroom. After a bit of a wobble, he continued slowly, head down, just tearing her up inside with guilt at the sorry picture he presented. Before she could stop herself, she darted in front of him. Half-shuttered green eyes bore into hers, his face blank, black hair tumbling in loose waves around his face.
Her tongue froze, her eyes drifting down over his naked upper torso. Tattoos decorated his pecs and arms. A tribal sun in sharp black ink circled his belly button, set within the rock hard six-pack of his abdomen. His heat called to her. She felt herself swaying forward, a fuzzy memory of touching and tasting most of that glorious male flesh tantalizing her.
He licked his lips and turned his head away a bit, eyes focused on the white tiled floor.
"I..." she began. "I guess I can stay and care for you until you get better."
His gaze slid back to her, face still adorably pouty. "I'll be fine alone. Mike can sneak by every once and a while. As long as someone leaves some water and crackers nearby, definitely a lamp on. If I need to go take a piss I can always crawl outside and aim for the edge of the dock. Hopefully I won't fall in."
She frowned at him, despite her alarm at his words. "Oh, Gabriel. Stop being so dramatic."
When he refocused on the tile again with a soulful sigh, she couldn't help reach up and stroke back his thick hair. It only spilled forward again over his muscular shoulders.
He needed her. He'd been wrong to trick her into living in his house and fill her bank account with money, but the bottom line was he really needed someone to stay with him. He could hire a full time nurse, but then he'd run the risk of his privacy being invaded. The person might tell someone and before anyone knew, there'd be a horde of fans swarming the house.
"I'll stay, Gabriel."
He looked at her again. "Abigail, are you not still my girlfriend?"
She blinked at him. Somehow, she'd never really thought he'd been serious. He'd said twice now he loved her, but they barely knew each other. Didn't they?
"Are you?" he whispered.
"I...I thought it was just pretend."
He came closer, looming over her. She blinked up at him, eyes wide. The black in his pupils almost swallowed the green of his eyes. 'I'm not pretending."
"Oh," she replied with a gulp. "Okay then."
"I'll forgive you, because you obviously don't know about the girlfriend rules."
"Rules?"
"Oh, yes," he replied, one brow arching beautifully. "Girlfriends are supposed to take care of their man. I'm your man, Abby, and right now I need you."
A shudder went through her at his words. Her man.
Her eyes drifted over the masculine beauty before her. All that? Hers?
Wow. Okay then.
Finding her voice again, she asked, "are there boyfriend rules?"
