Gavin's POV
Damn it to hell.
The wine glass crashed against the kitchen floor, sending shards scattering across the tiles. My heart hammered against my chest as I sat there like a statue, unable to move, unable to breathe, just staring at her.
At that black slip of fabric she called a nightgown.
This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to be awake at this hour. This was exactly why I stayed out until the early morning hours, why I slipped out before dawn broke. I'd been dodging this moment for months.
She stood there rubbing her eyes, looking half-asleep and completely unaware of what she was doing to me. Just another midnight trip to the kitchen for water, nothing unusual. Her bare feet whispered against the cold floor as she moved toward me, yawning like this was perfectly normal.
But nothing about this was normal.
