Rush (Breathless #1)(116)

She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed. All she knew was there was a gaping hole in her heart she never had a hope of repairing.

When she trudged home that evening, she found a huge bouquet of flowers at her door. Sighing, she took the card and saw the scribbled note from Gabe.

I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to explain.

–Gabe

She had to bite back the childish urge to trash the flowers. They were beautiful, and she and Caroline would enjoy having them in the apartment. She would just pretend that someone else had given them to her.

She placed them on the counter and wondered why Gabe was making the effort. Why was he doing this? He’d been the one to say that a clean break was better. Why prolong it if he had no intention of making their relationship permanent? Like she wanted to go through this all over again down the road when he did get tired of her?

Talking with Jace and Ash openly about Gabe and his relationships had been eye-opening. She’d guessed or had a very good idea of how he went about them. But during their stay in the Caribbean, the two had opened up and given her details she hadn’t known before.

Gabe always had a contract with the women he was with. She knew that. What she hadn’t known was the frequency of these women and the shortness of his relationships with them.

It had made her realize that she’d been on borrowed time with him.

She was lying facedown on her bed when Caroline came into her bedroom.

“Hey, Mia, who are the flowers from?”

“Gabe,” she muttered.

Caroline bounced onto the bed, her expression a mixture of what the f**k and irritation.

“Why is he sending you flowers, for God’s sake?”

Mia rolled onto her back. “Oh that’s only part of it. He was here last night. And then he showed up at La Patisserie today.”

“What the hell? Why?”

“I have no idea,” Mia said wearily. “To drive me crazy? Who knows? I slammed the door in his face last night. Today I just ignored him.”

“Good for you,” Caroline said in a savage tone. “Want me to go kick his ass?”

Mia laughed and then leaned up to hug her friend. “I love you, Caro. I’m so glad I have you.”

Caroline squeezed Mia back. “That’s what friends are for. And hey, if you decide to kill him, you know I’ll help you hide the body.”

Mia burst into laughter again, her heart lighter than just a moment before.

“Hey, what do you want to eat tonight? I was thinking about takeout, but if you wanted we could go down the street to the pub and hang out for a while.”

Caroline studied Mia intently. “Are you sure? I don’t mind cooking for us if you want to hang here.”

Mia shook her head. “No, let’s go out. I can’t stay here and mope over Gabe forever.”

As Mia stood up from the bed, Caroline went quiet for a moment and then she turned her serious gaze up to Mia.

“Maybe he wants you back, Mia. Have you considered that? Shouldn’t you at least hear him out?”

Mia’s lips turned down in scorn. “I told him that if he ever wanted me back he was going to have to crawl. He’s not crawling yet and hell will freeze over before I make it easy for him.”

Chapter forty-three

By the week’s end, Mia was at a complete loss as to what to do about Gabe. He was at La Patisserie every single day for coffee and a croissant and he never came in at the same time, so it was impossible for her to avoid him by working the back.

He was a constant presence that was fraying her nerves. And her resistance.

And if that wasn’t enough, he bombarded her constantly with flowers and gifts. At work. At home.

Just yesterday a delivery person had brought in a huge arrangement of flowers to La Patisserie and embarrassed her in front of everyone by reading the note out loud.

Forgive me. I can’t live without you.

–Gabe

Today another delivery person had brought in a box with a pair of fur-lined leather gloves and a note card that read:

To keep your hands warm on the walk home.

–Gabe

Louisa and Greg were amused—thank God they weren’t pissed—and it had become a running joke with the regulars at La Patisserie as to what would be delivered next.

The weather had cleared up, but the cold had remained. The skies were bright blue without a cloud in sight and the wind blew gusty, a knife through her coat. She was grateful for the gloves as she navigated the sidewalks back to her apartment. Dusk was descending, each day growing shorter and shorter.

As she rounded the corner to walk the last block to her apartment, an electronic billboard atop a hotel caught her eye. How could it not?

In big, neon letters, flashing across the screen was:

I LOVE YOU, MIA. COME HOME.

GABE.

Tears pricked her eyelids. What was she supposed to do? He’d never said he loved her. Was it emotional manipulation for him to air his feelings to the world? And to put it on this billboard, by her apartment, where she couldn’t possibly miss the meaning? Come home. Not to her apartment. But to him.

It was driving her crazy. He was driving her crazy. And yet he hadn’t attempted to confront her directly again. Not since the last time when she’d told him to leave her alone. But he was still there. In her face. Always reminding her of his presence.