Resolution (Saviour #2)(9)

CHAPTER 2


I wake far too warm as usual. I'm lying on my side, pulled in tight to Gabriel's chest, his legs between mine, one arm under my head, the other over and around me, his hand cupped around my boob, I can't help but smile as I look down at the way he's holding me. It suddenly occurs to me that it's the house phone ringing that's woken me up. There's not one in the bedroom and it will probably ring off before I can get to it, besides, despite the warmth, I'm comfy here in my Gabriel cocoon and I don't want to disturb him. The longer I let him sleep, the longer I can stop him feeling the effects of the hangover he's likely to have and despite how much he pissed me off yesterday. I don't want him to suffer for it, much.

I lay and go over events of the past few weeks in my head. Some of the happiest and saddest of my life, packed into a very short space of time. The image of Gabe with another woman’s lipstick smeared across his face pops into my head and I swallow down my anger. Perhaps I do want him to have the hangover from hell, perhaps he should suffer, just a little. How could he have let her kiss him? Before I can dwell on these thoughts for too long, I feel Gabe tighten his grip around me and gently kiss the top of my head.

“Lauren. Awww f*ck, f*ck.” I smile, just a little bit. Think perhaps he's feeling less than great right now. Oh well.

“Lauren,” he whispers very quietly.

His voice is all rough and raspy and as hot as f*cking hell. I get that curling sensation in the lowest part of my belly. And it makes me so angry with myself, that he can have this effect on me. He came home with another woman in tow last night, covered in her lipstick.

“I know you're awake Lauren... Please talk to me.”

My hair moves as he whispers into it and that is enough to send goose bumps down my spine. I turn around to face him. I want to look him in the eye and find out the truth about the blonde slut he came home with last night but as I turn, he pulls in a deep breath, almost like a sob, and pulls me into his chest tightly. He's still wearing his shirt but I managed to get his converse and jeans off him last night and however much of a hangover he might be suffering, I am absolutely sure this has had no effect on his ability to achieve an erection. The evidence of that fact is poking me in the belly right now. And I can't help but smile, just a little, is there nothing that would prevent this man getting an erection? One hand is stroking my hair; the other is making small circular movements on my bare flesh that’s exposed between the top of my shorts and the bottom of my vest.

“I'm sorry.... I'm sorry for being such a prick yesterday.”

He kisses the top of my head again. I want to be nice to him, I do, but I can’t help myself, he came home with another woman, was she an ex f*ck? And as bad as I feel for the way he is now suffering, I can’t just let him off.

“Do you have a headache baby?”

“Yes. It's f*cking killing me.”

“Do you feel sick too?

“A bit. Why?”

“Would you like a berroca and some panadol?”

“Yes please. And I would kill for a glass of iced water. And some loving would be good too.”

I bet it would. “Yeah?”

He kisses my hair again as he rubs the pad of his thumb over my nipple and grinds his hard on into my belly.

“Yeah baby, I missed you so bad yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Of course baby.”

“Well you know what Gabe?”

“What baby? Tell me.”

“There's water in the tap and Panadol in the box on the top shelf of the pantry. Get them your f*cking self! And if it’s loving you want, I suggest you call the lanky blonde slut you bought home with you last night, perhaps she’ll be up for it, because I most definitely ain’t!”

His eyes open. “What? Awww f*ck.” His hands go to his head.

I pull myself off the bed and stomp out to the kitchen. I'll give him water and some loving. Dickhead. His sexperting skills won't work with me this morning. I might be as horny as, but I haven't forgotten that he came home smothered in lipstick and with some lanky blonde bint in tow last night, and I'm really not likely to, not for a while, the image is burned into my brain. Despite his brothers jumping to his defence, I want to hear from him who she was and exactly what he was doing with her. I wish I could be one hundred percent sure that he is totally innocent, but I can’t.

I make myself a coffee and go back into the bedroom to collect my phone. He doesn't, or can't open his eyes. I know it's wrong but I pick up his phone along with mine. I head back out and go and sit on the sofa, pulling the throw over me, it's grey, wet and windy outside and really quite dark. I turn on both the phones and as they come back to life I realise why it's looking so dark. It’s already past four O’clock. Shit, we've slept a bloody long time. Living your life in a soap opera is obviously very tiring.

I check my missed calls and messages. Jo, Sam and Stella have all called and left messages. Mainly concerned with how Gabe is pulling up today. Yeah thanks girls. I'm doing great too!!!

I sit and look at Gabe’s phone for a couple of minutes. Then decide to go for it, I know it's wrong, I know it's highly likely that I will find out things that I really don't want to know. But I look regardless. There are lots of missed calls from his brothers, sister, and sisters in law, me and then a couple from late last night. There’s just a number, no name, at least she was a complete random, not someone whose number he has stored. I listen to the voicemails: