“I just wasn’t really up to going to bed,” she said with a little laugh, and Gabe’s mind immediately filled with images of her in his bed. He pushed them aside as he always did when he was with her.
“Come inside?” Gabe asked, gesturing over his shoulder to the stairs that led to his suite. He’d never invited her in before. Would she think he was trying to take advantage? Or would she understand he just wanted to be there for her after the night she’d had?
Gabe felt his heart kick as she nodded yes and followed him up the stairs.
* * *
PJ gulped and stared at Gabe’s bare feet as he led her into his suite that was an exact duplicate of hers, but located on the opposite tower of the hotel. She was inGabe Sawyer’shotel room. And, good lord, why couldn't she take her eyes off his feet? How were feet sexy?
They’re not.
Exceptthoseparticularbarefeet topped bythosesoft,faded jeans were distinctly sexy. They were somehow hot as hell. But she’d always appreciated his good looks.
Everything about Gabe was hot as hell, from his deep-brown eyes to his almost-black hair that sometimes got a tiny bit messy late at night—when PJ itched to comb it back into place with her fingers.
Sometimes the attraction made it difficult for her to talk coherently and PJ just clammed up around him. She felt like a teenage idiot around Gabe, not a grown woman with a career that demanded she regularly make small talk with all kinds of people. Around Gabe, she just couldn’t think of any intelligent thing to say.
Gabe didn’t seem to have any issues around her. He tossed his keycard on the table by the entrance and nodded toward the couch in the living room.
“You hungry, Pru? I was planning to make an omelet. I do mine with egg whites, but I can add whole eggs to yours. Have a seat and I’ll whip up something for us.”
He didn't seem to care that it was two in the morning, and he sure didn’t seem to be obsessing over her presence in his suite the way she was.
“Um, thanks.” She lowered herself to the couch, but then quickly got up and followed him into the kitchen, going on tip-toes to look over his shoulder as he leaned into the fridge. “You cook?”
Gabe stood, pulling a carton of eggs and an armload of veggies out of the fridge. When he spun around to answer her question, it put them almost toe to toe. PJ’s breath caught.
His gaze met hers with an intensity that made her mouth drop open in an involuntary plea for him to kiss her.OMG.PJ blinked and stepped back, realizing she’d put herself much too close to him. Much closer than he probably intended.
He’d always treated her like a friend, a kid sister even. Nothing more. With most men, that’s what she wanted—friendship.
With Gabe? Well, she’d known for a few years that she wanted a lot more than friendship from Gabe.
What am I thinking? Someone has my journal, and all of my secrets could be shared with the world at any moment…and I’m lusting after a man who’s utterly unreachable.
Gabe cleared his throat and dumped the ingredients on the counter.
“Yeah. I got tired of having room service about….” He raised his eyes to the ceiling as if calculating something in his head. “Oh, eight years ago.”
The grin he threw her way made her panties melt. PJ slipped onto one of the bar stools that lined the counter separating the kitchen from the spacious living room. Still, he continued to affect her, and she pressed her legs together to douse some of the heat she felt.
“Mmm.I tried cooking for a while for that same reason,” she said. “It g-got...complicated,” she stuttered.What an idiot.
Gabe raised his eyebrows at her as he whisked the eggs together and then tossed the vegetables to sauté in a pan on the burner.
PJ felt her cheeks burn as she tried to figure out how to explain herself without sounding like an arrogant, spoiled celebrity. Gabe helped her out.
“Oh, right, shopping. I guess going to the grocery store can be a bit tough.”
She nodded and shrugged. “My mom and I used to cook together when I was a kid. I loved it. When she was with me on tour, in the early days, she would shop and we could still cook together. But now she doesn’t go on tour with me very often. I tried having Ellis get stuff for me, but it’s weird having someone else do your shopping. You know? And grocery shopping online isn't really the same.”
Gabe nodded and turned his attention back to the stove. The smell of the melted butter and onions made her stomach growl, and she realized he really knew his way around a kitchen. Her suspicions were confirmed when Gabe placed a plate in front of her a few minutes later and she took her first bite.
She may have groaned in appreciation a little more loudly than she intended, but the omelet melted on her tongue and the sound just slipped out before she could censor herself.
Gabe stilled, his laser eyes on hers, but then quickly moved back to plating his own omelet.
“Good?” he asked, grinning again. “When did your parents leave the tour?”