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rootedinrevisions · 23 hours ago

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Better Late Than Never: Alternate Ending

SUMMARY: After one too many broken promises, Glen realizes he might lose the person who means the most to him. But proving he's ready to be the man you deserve proves to be harder than he expected.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the comments and feedback on this story. Here is an alternate ending where you (and your friends) make Glen work a little harder to win you back over.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think of this version! Did you like it better than the original? I'd love to see your opinion in the comments!

WORD COUNT: 7.8K

TAGS: In Comments.

**THE BEGINNING OF THIS STORY IS THE SAME. THIS ALTERNATE ENDING PICKS UP AT THE BAR WHEN GLEN SHOWS UP** - READ THE ORIGINAL VERSION -- HERE

The music thrummed through the bar, matching the energy of the group gathered around the high-top table. Glasses clinked together in a loud, boisterous toast, followed by laughter that was as unrestrained as it was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile, letting the warmth of the moment replace the earlier disappointment that had been gnawing at the edges of your birthday.

"To another year of dodging bad dates and drinking great cocktails!" Maggie shouted, raising her glass dramatically. The group erupted in cheers as you shook your head, laughing. She nudged you with her shoulder. "And to you, finally realizing what a catch you are."

You rolled your eyes, but the grin stayed plastered on your face. "Thanks, Maggie."

The group dissolved into casual chatter, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again. The sting of Glen cancelling dinner—the dinner you’d looked forward to all week—was starting to fade, dulled by the buzz of margaritas and the steady rhythm of laughter surrounding you.

“Okay, it’s your birthday, so spill,” one of your friends teased, leaning closer. “What’s the plan for your next year of life? New goals? Big dreams? New men?”

You were mid-sip, considering how to answer, when the door to the bar opened. A gust of air swept through the room, and instinctively, your eyes flickered toward the entrance.

And that’s when you saw him.

Glen.

Glen stepped into the bar, the low hum of conversation and the upbeat music doing little to calm the nerves rattling inside him. He scanned the room, searching for you, but all he could see was a blur of faces. His heart sank as he realized how crowded it was, and for a moment, he wondered if coming here was a mistake.

But then he spotted Maggie weaving through the throng of people, her sharp eyes zeroing in on him like she’d been expecting this. The relief he felt at seeing a familiar face quickly evaporated when he noticed the look on hers—unimpressed and unyielding.

“Glen,” she greeted, her voice flat as she stopped directly in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

“Maggie.” He tried to keep his tone even, but the urgency crept in anyway. “Where's she at? I need to talk to her. I need to explain.”

Maggie folded her arms, tilting her head in that way that made him feel like he was already losing. “Explain what? That you bailed on her—again? Or that you decided a party in New York was more important than dinner with her?”

He clenched his jaw, feeling the sting of her words. “I didn’t bail,” he said firmly. “I texted her. I told her I’d be late, but I’d be here. I just—things didn’t go as planned.”

“Didn’t go as planned,” Maggie echoed, her tone dripping with disbelief. “That’s your excuse? Glen, she waited for you. She planned her whole night around you. And then you just...what? Text her last minute and think that makes it okay?”

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He hadn’t planned for this confrontation, not tonight. Not with Maggie.

“Look,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, “I know I messed up, okay? But I’m here now. I just want to talk to her.”

Maggie didn’t budge. “And what? Tell her you’re sorry? That it won’t happen again? Because let’s be real, Glen—it will.”

Her words hit harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Was she wrong? He hated the doubt that crept in.

“She deserves better,” Maggie continued, her voice softening but losing none of its edge. “And I’m not going to let you show up now, just because it’s convenient for you, and pretend like you didn’t hurt her.”

Glen’s chest tightened, the weight of her words settling heavy on him. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want to miss dinner. I didn’t mean to let her down. I just...I screwed up. But I want to make it right.”

Maggie studied him for a long moment, her sharp gaze searching his face for any sign of sincerity. “You say that,” she said finally, “but actions speak louder than words. And so far? Your actions suck.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He’d been so sure that if he could just talk to you, explain everything, you’d understand. But now, standing here under Maggie’s scrutinizing glare, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I just...I need to see her,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Maggie. Let me talk to her.”

She hesitated for a beat before shaking her head. “Not tonight, Glen. She deserves to enjoy her birthday without you making it about your mess. Go home.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the finality in her tone stopped him. Defeated, he nodded, stepping back.

“Fine,” he said, though the word felt hollow.

As he turned to leave, he glanced toward the table where you were sitting, laughing with your friends. The sound of your laughter, even from across the room, hit him like a gut punch. He had no right to interrupt that moment, no matter how much he wanted to.

Walking out of the bar, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his mind already racing with ways to fix this. Maggie might have won this round, but he wasn’t giving up. Not on you. Not this time.

When Maggie returned to the table, she had that look—stern but protective, the kind of look that meant she wasn’t going to let you off the hook without saying her piece.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer, nervous to hear her answer.

Maggie slid into her seat and took a deliberate sip of her drink, her eyes darting toward the bar. “He wanted to talk to you,” she said calmly, setting her glass down.

Your stomach flipped, a mix of hope and dread rising in your chest. “And?”

“I told him he couldn’t.”

Your heart sank, confusion flashing across your face. “You what?”

“I told him you didn’t need this tonight,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “That he can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for him and expect you to drop everything to listen to him.”

Your jaw tightened as you stared at her, struggling to piece together what she was saying. “What did he say?”

“He said he wanted to explain, that he felt bad about missing dinner. But I told him enough is enough. This isn’t the first time he’s let you down, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin your night with some half-hearted apology.”

“Maggie...” you started, your voice trailing off.

“No,” she cut in, holding up a hand to stop you. “You’ve had a crush on him for how long now? Years, right? And you let him get away with stuff because it's him. If I did half the shit he does you wouldn't be my friend anymore. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, fiddling with the condensation on your glass.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but let’s be real here—the crush is why you let him get away with it. If he were just some friend who bailed all the time, you wouldn’t make excuses for him like this. But because it’s Glen, because you like him, you let it slide. Every time.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled, though the weak protest did little to convince even yourself.

“It’s not about fair,” Maggie said, her tone softening just slightly. “It’s about what you deserve. And if he’s just your friend? Fine. Let him screw up every now and then, no big deal. But if you want him to be more than that? If he ever wants to be more than that? Then he has to act like it. And bailing on dinner to go to a party isn’t acting like it.”

You sighed, her words sinking in like weights tied to your chest. “He’s not a bad guy, Maggie,” you said quietly.

“I’m not saying he is,” she said gently. “But I am saying that you deserve better from a partner. You deserve someone who shows up, who puts you first. Not someone who expects you to rearrange your life around their schedule and call it love.”

Her words stung because you knew they were true. The hope you’d been clinging to—the idea that Glen might finally see you as more than just a friend—felt paper-thin now, flimsy and fragile under the weight of reality.

“I just...” you started, but your voice faltered. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

Maggie reached out, squeezing your hand. “I love you,” she said, her tone softening even more. “And I know how much you care about him. But you can’t keep letting him off the hook just because you want him to care about you the same way. He either steps up, or he doesn’t deserve to be the guy you’ve been waiting for.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you blinked back the sting in your eyes. “You’re right,” you whispered, though the words felt like they might break you.

Maggie gave you a small, encouraging smile. “Come on,” she said, giving your hand another squeeze. “It’s your birthday. Don’t let him ruin it.”

You forced a smile, nodding as you straightened in your seat. The night wasn’t over yet, and you weren’t ready to let Glen—or your own feelings for him—ruin it. Not tonight.

* * * * *

By the time Maggie pulled up to your place, the weight of the night was beginning to settle in your chest. The buzz from the drinks had worn off, leaving you raw and tired. You unclipped your seatbelt as Maggie parked by the curb, and she turned to you with a small smile.

“Happy birthday,” she said softly.

She then reached into her purse. She handed you your phone, and for a moment, you just stared at it.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your fingers curling around the familiar weight of the device.

“Get some rest, okay? You’ve had a long day,” Maggie added, her tone light, but there was an edge of concern underneath.

“I will,” you replied, forcing a small smile to reassure her.

She lingered for a second, her eyes searching yours before she nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You stepped out of the car and watched her drive away before heading up to your apartment. The silence of your place greeted you like an old friend, but tonight, it felt heavier than usual. You kicked off your shoes and left them by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you wandered into the living room.

Sinking onto the couch, you finally unlocked your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you in the dim room. Notifications lit up one after another, but your eyes landed on Glen’s name almost immediately.

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened his messages, scrolling through them one by one.

7:12 PM: Hey, I’m really sorry about missing dinner last night. My interview ran long, and I missed my flight. I had to stay an extra day, but I swear I wasn’t blowing you off. Can't wait to see you tonight!

You frowned, your thumb hovering over the screen. He hadn’t mentioned the missed flight last night—hadn’t even tried to explain until now.

8:07 PM: I’m running late, but I’ll be there. Just got back into Austin and hit traffic.

Your stomach tightened. The memory of sitting at the restaurant, checking your phone every few minutes, flashed through your mind. You hadn’t seen this message. By 8 you’d already given up on him.

8:46 PM: Where are you? I went to the restaurant, but I guess I just missed you.

You bit your lip, the weight in your chest growing heavier.

10:15 PM: I’m sorry. I know I’ve let you down, and I hate that I keep doing this to you. Maggie said you didn't want to talk to me. Please don’t give up on me. I’ll fix this. I swear.

You stared at the screen, your throat tightening as the words blurred. His texts were full of apologies, of promises you weren’t sure he could keep. You wanted to be angry, to hold onto the frustration and disappointment, but a part of you—a soft, stubborn part—wanted to believe him.

You sighed, setting the phone down on the coffee table and leaning back against the couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You closed your eyes, the words from his last message echoing in your mind.

Please don’t give up on me.

Your fingers itched to respond, to demand answers, but instead, you grabbed your phone again and typed out a simple reply: We’ll talk tomorrow.

You stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

As you set your phone back down, a knock at the door startled you, echoing through the stillness of your apartment. Your heart leapt, and for a second, you considered ignoring it. But something—some quiet, nagging feeling—pulled you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Glen stood on the other side, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and an almost sheepish look on his face.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice soft but urgent. “But I needed to see you.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the door, your tired eyes narrowing. “Glen, it’s not a good time—”

He reached out, his hand gently pressing against the door to stop you from closing it. “Please,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Just give me five minutes. Let me explain.”

You hesitated, the frustration and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. But something in his voice, in the way he looked at you, made you pause. With a resigned sigh, you stepped aside and let him in.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall near the door as Glen stepped inside. He seemed almost hesitant, like he knew he was walking a tightrope.

“Okay,” you said, your tone clipped. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I messed up. I know I did. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to let you down again. My interview ran over, and I missed my flight. By the time I got back to Austin, I figured you’d already left the restaurant.”

You raised an eyebrow, the heat rising in your chest. “And then what? You just decided to go to a party instead?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What? No, that’s not—”

“Was your interview with Alanna Norris?” you interrupted, your voice sharp.

Glen froze, the color draining slightly from his face. “What are you talking about?”

You stepped forward, your phone suddenly feeling heavy in your pocket. “I saw the pictures, Glen. The videos. You at that party with her, laughing, smiling, looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. While I was sitting at home alone, trying to figure out you didn't show up for the birthday dinner you planned for me.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Then what was it?” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you bailed on me for some party for one of your Hollywood friends.”

He stepped closer, his hands out as if he were trying to reach for you but hesitated. “I didn’t plan to go to that party, okay? I only went because I realized I wasn’t going to make it back to Austin in time for dinner. It was a networking thing—work, nothing more. I wasn’t there to have fun, I was there because I thought it might help my career.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Work. It’s always about work with you, isn’t it?”

He sighed, his expression pained. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but it’s the truth. You know how important this weekend is to me. I didn’t want to miss your dinner, but when I realized I couldn’t make it, I thought at least I could make the most of the night professionally.”

You moved to the couch and sat down, arms still folded as you glared at him. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? You always have a reason, Glen. There’s always an explanation, but it doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t there. Again.”

Glen followed you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you, his eyes full of sincerity, and for a moment, you hated how much it pulled at your heartstrings.

“When have I ever lied to you?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm. “Ever?”

Your lips parted, ready to counter him, but the words didn’t come. You wanted to call him out, to tell him he was wrong. But the truth was, he wasn’t. Glen had let you down, canceled plans, missed important moments—but he’d never lied.

You sighed, looking away. “It’s not about lying, Glen. It’s about priorities. It feels like I’m always coming in second to everything else in your life. Your job, your career, your networking events.”

He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on his thighs. “That’s not true,” he said softly.

“It feels true,” you replied, your voice cracking slightly. “I waited for you, Glen. I was sitting there, hoping you’d show up, and you didn’t. And yeah, maybe you didn’t lie, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was alone on my birthday because you couldn’t be bothered to put me first for once.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve been there. No excuses. And I hate that I wasn’t. I hate that I keep screwing up with you.”

You glanced down at him, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his expression. He looked genuinely hurt, but that didn’t erase the ache you felt.

“I don’t know if an apology is enough,” you admitted quietly.

“I don’t expect it to be,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “But I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N. Just… don’t give up on me.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, but the weight of his past letdowns still lingered.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I need time, Glen. I can’t just pretend everything’s okay overnight.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he turned and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at you one last time. “Happy birthday. I hope it was still a good one.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the faint echo of his words.

* * * * *

The next morning, you were still in your pajamas—a faded T-shirt and a pair of shorts—when the knock on your door startled you. Coffee in hand, you hesitated for a moment before peeking through the peephole.

Glen.

With a sigh, you set your coffee down and unlocked the door. As you opened it, your eyes immediately widened at the sight in front of you. Glen stood there holding a bouquet so large it nearly obscured his face. Roses, lilies, sunflowers—practically every flower imaginable—were packed into the arrangement, making it look more like a garden than a bouquet.

You blinked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. “What… are you doing?” you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Glen peeked out from behind the flowers, his expression impossibly earnest. “I’m fixing this.”

Your brow arched. “With… that?” You gestured toward the bouquet.

He stepped forward, undeterred by your guarded tone. “Partly, I remember you said a few months ago no one's ever bought you flowers for your birthday. So here are flowers for your birthday,” he said with a small smile, tilting the bouquet toward you. “But mostly, I’m here to show you I’m serious.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the flowers. “Glen, I don’t need a grand gesture—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know this doesn’t fix everything. But it’s a start. And I needed you to see that I mean it when I say I’ll do better.”

You let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. “You realize this is borderline ridiculous, right?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Absolutely. But I figured if I’m going to make a fool of myself, I might as well go all in.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face despite your best efforts to remain guarded. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Glen took the opportunity to step inside, setting the bouquet down on your coffee table. The oversized arrangement looked absurdly out of place in your small living room, but somehow, it felt… fitting.

He turned back to you, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Look, I know I’ve let you down more times than I can count. And I know flowers and apologies don’t erase that. But I want to make this right,Y/N. I want to show you that I can prioritize you the way you deserve.”

You studied him for a long moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. As much as you wanted to stay mad, it was hard to ignore the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” you asked, your tone cautious.

“For starters,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “I cleared my entire schedule for the next couple days. No interviews, no networking events, no work commitments. It’s just you and me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You did that?”

“I cleared my schedule,” he repeated, holding the notebook up as if to prove it. “I told my manager I needed time off. And believe me, she wasn’t happy about it. But I didn’t care, because I meant what I said last night. You’re more important.”

The walls you’d carefully constructed around your heart started to crack, but you weren’t ready to let them crumble just yet.

“That’s a nice sentiment,” you said quietly. “But what happens when the next big opportunity comes along? Or the next party? Am I just supposed to hope you won’t drop me for that, too?”

Glen took a step closer, his gaze steady. “No. You shouldn’t have to hope,Y/N. You should know. And I’m going to make sure you do.” He paused, his expression softening. “Look, I’m not perfect. I know I’ll probably screw up again at some point, but I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. Because losing you isn’t an option for me.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you square in the chest. For all your frustration and hurt, it was impossible to ignore the depth of his sincerity.

“I don’t know, Glen,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I want to believe you, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“I know,” he said, his voice just as soft. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. I just… I want a chance to prove to you that I can do better.”

You looked away, your emotions a tangle of doubt, hope, and fear. After a long silence, you finally met his gaze again.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Glen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just give me one more chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing yours lightly. “Friends?” he asked, offering a tentative olive branch.

You exhaled, a faint smile breaking through despite yourself. “Friends,” you agreed, though the word felt heavier than it should have.

As Glen lingered near the door, his eyes swept over your living room, still filled with traces of your everyday life—blankets draped over the couch, books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table next to the over-the-top bouquet he’d brought. He glanced back at you, his hands in his pockets again, and tilted his head with a small smile.

“So,” he began, his tone casual, “how about I take you to that coffee shop you love downtown? My treat.”

Your brow arched slightly as you regarded him, arms still loosely crossed. “You’re really laying it on thick this morning, huh?”

Glen shrugged, his grin widening. “I figured I needed to pull out all the stops. Besides, I owe you about a hundred coffee dates at this point.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “Give me a minute to change,” you said, turning toward your bedroom.

Behind the safety of your bedroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a long breath. The morning’s events played through your mind—his earnest apology, the ridiculous bouquet, his clear effort to show he was serious. It was all… a lot.

And yet, despite your lingering reservations, there was a part of you that wanted to believe him.

Shaking off the swirling thoughts, you crossed the room to your closet and pulled out something simple but presentable—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. As you changed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. There was still a guardedness in your expression, but beneath it, a faint flicker of hope was beginning to take root.

When you returned to the living room, Glen straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and the easy smile on his face sent a pang through your chest—equal parts frustrating and endearing.

“Ready?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

You grabbed your bag and slipped on your shoes, nodding as you stepped past him. “Let’s go.”

The coffee shop was as cozy as ever, its familiar hum of chatter and the scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Glen had already ordered your hazelnut latte and a slice of coffee cake before you’d even had a chance to argue, his easy smile daring you to say he didn’t know you well enough.

As you both sat down, the conversation was brief but meaningful. Glen apologized again, promising to do better, and though his words carried sincerity, you held onto your guardedness. He didn’t press when you didn’t immediately forgive him, seeming to understand that trust would take more than words.

After finishing your drinks, Glen glanced at you as you walked toward the door. “What do you think about heading over to the old trail? You know, the one we used to run together?”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Sure. Why not?”

You stepped onto the familiar dirt path, the trail winding through a grove of trees that were barren but still beautiful in their stark simplicity. You tucked your hands into your coat pockets, your shoes crunching against the gravel as Glen matched your pace beside you.

“It’s been a while since we came here,” he said, his tone light. “I forgot how quiet it gets out here.”

“It’s one of my favorite things about this trail,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the path ahead.

He glanced over at you, his expression softer than you expected. “I missed this.”

You let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Missed what? Running?”

He shook his head. “No. Walking with you. Talking with you. Just… spending time with you.”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them making your steps falter for a moment. You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say. Instead, you kept walking, the silence between you not uncomfortable but charged with unspoken thoughts.

Glen didn’t push, letting the moment settle naturally as the trail stretched out before you.

The sound of your boots crunching against the gravel filled the silence as you walked side by side, the air between you and Glen thick with unspoken emotions. When you didn’t respond to his earlier comment, Glen glanced over at you, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Do you?” he asked after a moment.

You stopped walking and turned to him with a confused expression. “Do I what?”

“Miss spending time with me,” he clarified, his tone softer now.

You rolled your eyes and resumed walking. “Of course I miss you, Glen. You’re my best friend—when you actually show up.”

He winced but didn’t argue, nodding as if to acknowledge the truth in your words. For a few moments, the two of you walked in silence again, but Glen broke it this time with a different question.

“Are you still seeing… what’s his name?”

You shot him a look, narrowing your eyes. “Evan? No, we broke up.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” you replied with a shrug. “It wasn’t really going anywhere anyway.”

Glen hesitated before glancing at you again. “So… are you seeing anyone now?”

You huffed a laugh and playfully shoved his arm. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

He grinned, rubbing his arm as though your shove had actually hurt. “I’m just trying to stay up to date on your life. You know, since it’s been a while.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, giving him a skeptical look but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Seriously,” he insisted, his grin softening into something more sincere. “I feel like I’ve missed a lot.”

You glanced at him, your footsteps slowing slightly. “Yeah, well… you have.”

The honesty in your voice made him stop walking entirely. He turned to face you, his expression filled with regret. “I know. I don’t want to miss any more of your life.”

For a moment, you studied his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest tighten. You wanted to believe him, to trust that this time would be different. But after so many missed moments and broken plans, part of you still held back.

Glen glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “So… are you seeing someone?”

You let out a sigh, staring down at the trail ahead of you. “No, there’s no one.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you. You resisted the urge to look at him, instead focusing on the way the late morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

After a moment, you cleared your throat. “What about you?” you asked, your voice more hesitant than you intended. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

Glen chuckled, the sound light and almost self-deprecating. “Me? Come on. My life’s so crazy right now I don’t even have time to breathe, let alone have a girlfriend.”

You tried to match his laugh, forcing a lighthearted response. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You can barely make it to dinner—you’d probably be a terrible boyfriend.”

He laughed a little louder this time, and though it was meant as a joke, your words carried a heavier weight that neither of you acknowledged.

But deep down, his answer didn’t bring the relief you thought it would. Instead, it left a hollow ache in your chest, one you tried to bury as you pushed a stray hair out of your face and glanced at him.

“I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t try if the right person came along,” Glen said after a pause, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

You looked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. But before you could say anything, he turned to you with his trademark grin, lightening the mood.

“Not that I’d have any luck. I’m pretty sure I’d forget our anniversary or something and get dumped immediately.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “You’re hopeless.”

The conversation drifted after that, the heavier moments giving way to an easier rhythm as you walked the familiar trail together. But even as you laughed at his jokes and teased him about tripping over a tree root, that small pang of sadness lingered, a quiet reminder of the distance still between you.

As you and Glen left the trail, he glanced over at you with a grin. “You up for one more stop?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me now?”

He just shrugged, keeping the grin firmly in place. “You’ll see.”

Before you could argue, Glen was already pulling out of the parking lot, his hand casually draped over the steering wheel as the radio played softly in the background. You tried to guess where he was taking you, but he didn’t budge, dodging your questions with playful non-answers until the car finally rolled into the parking lot of a small, familiar diner.

You blinked in surprise, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Rudy’s? Are you serious?”

“Hey, you used to love this place,” Glen said, parking the car and turning off the engine.

He wasn’t wrong. Rudy’s had been one of your favorite spots back in the day—a no-frills diner with red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner, and the best milkshakes in town. It was where you and Glen used to come after late-night study sessions or early morning runs, a place that held more memories than you cared to admit.

The familiar bell jingled as the two of you stepped inside, the smell of coffee and frying bacon hitting you instantly. You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes scanned the space, everything just as you remembered it.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite troublemakers!”

You turned to see Donna, the waitress who used to wait on you two all the time, heading toward you with a knowing smile. She looked exactly the same, her blonde hair teased into a high ponytail and her pink uniform just a little snugger than you remembered.

“Donna!” Glen greeted, his grin widening. “Still holding down the fort, huh?”

“Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on this place,” she said with a wink, before turning to you. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you two together. Thought maybe he finally scared you off for good.”

You laughed, glancing at Glen. “Not yet, but he’s been trying.”

Donna chuckled and led you to a booth near the window, promising to bring over your “usuals,” even though it had been years since either of you had been there.

As you slid into the booth across from Glen, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of nostalgia. The playful teasing, the easy way you fit into this place together—it was starting to feel a little too familiar, a little too good.

“So,” Glen said, leaning back in the booth with a smirk, “I’m gonna guess she’s still got my milkshake order memorized.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean the chocolate monstrosity? Pretty sure that’s hard to forget.”

He grinned. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I did try it. Once. And I’m still recovering.”

The banter continued as Donna brought over your orders—his chocolate brownie shake, your classic vanilla shake, and a basket of fries to share.

Somewhere between stealing fries from each other’s side of the basket and arguing over who had the better milkshake, the tension from earlier seemed to melt away. You found yourself laughing more, leaning into the playful energy Glen always seemed to bring with him.

“You know,” he said, dipping a fry into his shake with a mischievous grin, “I forgot how much fun this is. Just us, hanging out. Feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. But as you looked at him—his messy hair, his boyish grin, the way he seemed completely at ease in this moment—you couldn’t deny it.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kind of does.”

After finishing up at the diner, Glen walked you back to the car, the remnants of your milkshakes still in hand. The air between you was lighter now, filled with easy smiles and the kind of camaraderie you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re not taking me home, are you?” you asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, your tone both skeptical and amused.

“Not just yet,” Glen replied with a mysterious grin. “I’ve got one more stop in mind.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you deserved a day of going down memory lane,” he said, his voice softening just slightly.

The drive didn’t take long, but the familiarity of the route had your curiosity growing. When Glen turned onto the winding road leading up to the old scenic overlook, your brows shot up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, a laugh escaping despite yourself.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“This is where kids used to come to make out, Glen.”

He smirked, pulling the car into one of the gravel spots near the edge of the overlook and turning off the engine. “Well, yeah. But it also has a great view.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling as you climbed out of the car. The overlook hadn’t changed much—still the same grassy clearing that opened up to a breathtaking view of the valley below. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in warm hues of gold and orange.

Glen joined you at the edge, leaning on the old wooden railing as he looked out at the view. “You know, I remember finding you here more than once back in the day,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something almost nostalgic.

You glanced at him, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school,” he said, turning to look at you. “Whenever you were upset or needed space, you’d come here. Usually by yourself. I’d end up driving by and seeing your car parked here, so I’d stop to check on you.”

You frowned slightly, the memories flickering to life. “I wasn’t upset. I just… needed to get away sometimes.”

“Run away, you mean,” Glen teased lightly, a grin tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t running away. I just liked the quiet.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But you’d always talk to me when I showed up. Even when you said you wanted to be alone.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t remember you being this sentimental.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said, bumping your shoulder lightly with his.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees and the distant hum of cicadas filling the air.

“Why’d you bring me here, Glen?” you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.

He glanced at you, his expression more serious. “Because I thought maybe you could use a little peace. And because I know this place means something to you.”

Your heart gave a small, involuntary flutter at his words, but you pushed the feeling down, turning your attention back to the view.

“This place is nice,” you said softly. “I forgot how much I liked it here.”

Glen nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I guess I just wanted to remind you of the good stuff. The stuff that hasn’t changed.”

You looked over at him, his profile outlined by the fading sunlight, and for a moment, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was hard to stay guarded when he looked at you like that—like he still cared, like he still wanted to be the person you could lean on.

The mood shifted slightly as you leaned against the wooden railing, the soft breeze brushing past you. Glen turned to glance at you, catching the way your gaze lingered on the horizon, a faint wistfulness in your expression.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “I’ve never actually been out here with someone before.”

Glen frowned. “That’s not true. You’ve been out here with me.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a playful look. “Not like that, Glen. I mean… as a date. Back in the day, I was kind of the awkward kid. Nobody wanted to date me, let alone bring me out here.”

His frown deepened, and he turned to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “It’s true. Not everyone gets their rom-com moment, Glen. Not everyone gets swept off their feet or… gets to star in the big romantic scenes.”

At that, he laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Rom-com moment? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gave him a knowing look. “You know what I mean. The big moment in every chick flick where the guy finally realizes he’s in love with the girl, and he makes some grand gesture to win her back. Like, he shows up at her house, or her job, or stops her at the airport to profess his love. And then they kiss, and everything’s magically perfect.”

Glen leaned on the railing beside you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you’re saying you’ve never had one of those?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the “p” for emphasis. “Not everyone gets that kind of moment, Glen. Some of us just get… life.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You know, I don’t think that’s true,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“What, that sometimes life is just… life?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That you’ve never had a rom-com moment. I think you have. You just haven’t recognized it yet.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “Just that you’re kind of oblivious sometimes.”

You turned to look at Glen, his words catching you off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean, I’m oblivious?” you asked, giving him a confused look.

He met your gaze, and there was something in his eyes—something intense and vulnerable that made your breath catch.

You started to say something, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“Let me say this...please,” he said softly.

You closed your mouth, your heart pounding as he took a step closer.

“You mean more to me than anyone else ever has,” he began, his voice steady but low. “You always have. And I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that I’m not enough for you, that I’ll never be enough. But I’m tired, too. Tired of not telling you how I feel, tired of watching you date guys who don’t deserve you.”

You blinked, his words sinking in, and your heart felt like it might burst from the mix of emotions swirling in your chest.

“You’re the most important person in my life,” Glen continued, his voice growing firmer now. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll keep showing you that. Every single day.”

The world seemed to go quiet around you, the only sound your heartbeat roaring in your ears. You stared at him, his words echoing in your head. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

Then, with a slight smile tugging at your lips, you whispered, “Kiss me.”

Glen’s lips twitched into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah.”

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips pressed softly against yours. It was tentative at first, almost as if he were afraid to push too far, but when you leaned into him, his other hand settled lightly on your waist, deepening the kiss.

It was everything you hadn’t realized you were waiting for—warm, electric, and grounding all at once. When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless, his forehead resting against yours as his hands lingered on your waist.

“Was that rom-com enough for you?” Glen teased softly, his grin full of warmth.

You laughed, your hands resting on his chest. “I’d say it’s a good start.”

Glen's grin widened at your response, and before you could say another word, he leaned in and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more certain, and filled with an unspoken promise that sent your heart racing. When he pulled back, his hands still resting gently on your waist, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“You do know we're not dating now, right?” You said firmly, though your voice softened as you met his gaze. “If you want this to go anywhere, you’re going to have to prove you’re serious. No more excuses, no more letting me down.”

Glen nodded, his expression earnest. “I know. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“And,” you added, raising an eyebrow, “you’re going to start by taking me on an actual date. None of this ‘showing up with flowers and hoping for the best’ stuff.”

A smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “I already know where I’m taking you.”

“Oh, do you?” you asked, crossing your arms and giving him a skeptical look.

“Yeah,” he said confidently, his eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and warmth. “But I’m not telling you. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Fine. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his tone soft but sure.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the night air cool around you, the stars scattered across the sky. It wasn’t a perfect ending, but it felt like a beginning—one filled with hope, potential, and the possibility of something real.

“Come on,” Glen said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”

You took his hand, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure: this time, things were going to be different.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x reader #Glen Powell x you #tyler owens fic

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crossfandomskylines · 2 days ago

Text

In the Space Between: Chapter 23

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Chapter 21 I Chapter 22

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby try to make the most of the last few hours they have together before another five weeks apart.

Word Count:8.7k

A/N: As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

Glen eased the car into the garage of his Los Angeles home, the soft hum of the engine fading as he turned off the ignition. The intimate quiet that followed seemed to mirror the shift in Gabby’s mood. She’d been quieter since dinner, her thoughts clearly preoccupied. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, circling the car to her side.

When he opened her door, Gabby glanced up, offering him a small smile. Glen returned it warmly and extended a hand.

“Come on,” he said softly, his tone inviting and grounding at once.

She placed her hand in his, letting him help her out of the car. Her fingers felt light in his grip, and as she stood, he didn’t let go right away.

“You’ve been a little quiet since we left,” Glen said gently, his eyes scanning her face as he shut the car door with his free hand. “Talk to me, Gabs.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the ground. “I’m fine,” she replied softly, though the slight crack in her voice betrayed her.

Glen tilted his head, studying her. He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “You’re thinking about tonight, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. He didn’t need to clarify—he meant his flight. The thing neither of them had wanted to think about during their evening together.

Gabby’s eyes darted up to meet his, filled with a mix of vulnerability and something she couldn’t quite name. “I just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

He stepped even closer, his hand moving to cup her cheek. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched hers. “I’m still here. I’m right here with you.”

Before she could respond, Glen closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as much a reassurance as it was an expression of everything he couldn’t put into words. His free hand rested on her hip, grounding her, holding her in place as if to remind her she wasn’t alone in her thoughts.

When he pulled back, he lingered close, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “We’ve still got time, Gabby. Let’s not waste it worrying about tomorrow, okay?”

As they stepped inside Glen’s house, the warmth enveloped them, a stark contrast to the cool evening air. Gabby let out a soft sigh, still wrapped in Glen’s jacket.

“Now, how about I get you something to drink, and we make the most of the rest of our night?”

Gabby nodded, her smile growing. “That sounds perfect.”

Glen disappeared into the kitchen while Gabby sank onto the couch, savoring the cozy atmosphere of his home. A moment later, he returned with a soda in his hand—the exact brand and flavor she always seemed to gravitate toward. Gabby couldn’t help but smile as he handed it to her, the small gesture hitting her right in the heart.

“You keep this here just for me, don’t you?” she asked playfully, popping open the can.

Glen shrugged with a smug grin. “Maybe. Gotta be prepared if you come over, right?”

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re something else.”

He perched on the arm of the couch beside her, his gaze dropping to her dress. “You want to change into something comfortable?” he asked casually.

She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Change into what? I don’t exactly have clothes here.”

His lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned down slightly, meeting her gaze. “You can borrow some of mine,” he offered.

Her eyes lit up, and a smile tugged at her lips and she nodded in agreement and stood up, cradling the soda in her hands.

Glen led her down the hall toward his bedroom, his arm brushing hers as they walked.

When they arrived at his room, Glen disappeared into the walk-in closet, leaving Gabby standing near the edge of the bed. She glanced around the room, taking in the cozy yet masculine decor—a blend of soft gray tones, dark wood furniture, and personal touches like framed photos and a guitar propped in the corner. Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted as Glen returned, holding a neatly folded pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

“These should be comfy,” he said, offering her the clothes.

Gabby reached for them, but before she could take the bundle, Glen’s hand brushed hers, lingering. “Do you want help with the dress?” he asked softly, his eyes locking on hers.

Her breath caught, a blush creeping up her neck. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Glen set the clothes on the bed and stepped behind her, his fingers gently brushing her hair over one shoulder. He found the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it down with careful precision. The fabric loosened, slipping slightly over her shoulders.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice close to her ear.

Gabby nodded, swallowing hard as the dress slipped further. “Yeah,” she whispered.

Glen’s hands moved to her shoulders, guiding the straps of the dress down her arms with an almost reverent touch. The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her strapless bra and matching panties. She felt exposed but safe, her heart pounding as she turned to face him.

His gaze swept over her slowly, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“You’re stunning,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion.

Gabby’s breath hitched, and before she could overthink it, Glen closed the space between them. His hands framed her face as his lips found hers in a kiss that was both urgent and deeply tender. Her arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, her body pressing against his.

Glen’s hands began to roam, sliding down her sides and resting at her waist, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above the waistband of her panties. The heat between them grew, his kisses trailing down her jaw to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Glen,” Gabby whispered, her voice a mix of want and hesitation.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead pressing to hers as he breathed heavily. “We don’t have to,” he said softly, his hands steadying her.

Gabby searched his eyes, finding nothing but patience and love in his expression. Slowly, she nodded. “I want this,” she whispered.

A small smile played on Glen’s lips before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in another kiss, this one even more charged with emotion.

Gabby’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached up to the first button of Glen’s shirt. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she worked her way down, unfastening each one slowly, deliberately. With every button undone, more of his chest was revealed, the warmth of his skin brushing against her fingertips.

When she reached the last button, Glen shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor without breaking the kiss.

Her hands moved instinctively to the hem of the white undershirt he was wearing, her fingers slipping beneath the soft fabric to graze the firm muscles of his abdomen. She hesitated for only a moment, then began to push the shirt upward.

Glen’s lips stilled against hers, and he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. There was something unspoken in the way his eyes searched hers, a mix of desire and tenderness. She gave him a small, reassuring nod, and he gripped the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one quick motion.

The undershirt joined the pile on the floor as Glen’s hands found her waist again. He pulled her close, his body pressing against hers, and the heat between them grew. Gabby let out a soft, breathy sigh as her hands roamed across his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Glen murmured, his voice husky as he leaned down to capture her lips again.

Gabby melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as her body molded to his. She felt the strength in his embrace, the way his hands splayed against her lower back, holding her as if she might disappear.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, each moment more intoxicating than the last. Glen’s hands began to roam again, exploring the curve of her hips and the bare skin of her back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through her.

Glen’s lips left hers, trailing a line of slow, deliberate kisses along her jaw and down to the curve of her neck. Gabby tilted her head instinctively, giving him more access as her breath hitched in anticipation.

His mouth moved lower, pressing soft kisses to her collarbones, his stubble grazing her skin and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Gabby’s hands clung to his shoulders, steadying herself as his lips reached the edge of her dress.

Glen’s fingers brushed against the straps of her bra, slipping them down her shoulders with a practiced ease. His lips followed, kissing the newly exposed skin as he reached around her back. With a gentle tug, the clasp came undone, and Glen slid the fabric away, letting it fall to the floor to join the growing pile at their feet.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming her form with an intensity that made Gabby’s cheeks flush. Gabby felt a rush of warmth, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Glen caught her wrists gently, guiding her hands away.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his gaze locking with hers. “Let me see you.”

As her arms fell back to her sides, Glen reached up, his hands caressing her sides before sliding upward. His palms cupped her, his touch firm yet gentle, and Gabby’s breath hitched as his thumbs brushed over her skin.

He leaned down again, his lips grazing the curve of her chest before pressing soft kisses there. Every touch, every kiss, was deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch of her. Gabby’s hands found their way into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she let herself get lost in the moment.

Glen’s hands slid down to Gabby’s waist, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin. Without breaking their kiss, he shifted, wrapping one arm around her lower back. Gabby gasped softly as she felt herself being lifted effortlessly off the floor, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

His other hand moved to the back of her thigh, gripping her firmly as he carried her toward the bed. Gabby’s heart raced as she felt the warmth of his hand against her skin, his strength both grounding and exhilarating.

When they reached the edge of the bed, Glen leaned forward, gently lowering her onto the soft mattress. Gabby’s breath caught as he hovered above her, his lips capturing hers in another searing kiss before trailing down her neck and over her collarbones.

Slowly, his mouth continued its descent, leaving a trail of kisses down the curve between her chest. Gabby shivered beneath his touch, her hands instinctively finding his shoulders as his lips reached her stomach.

Glen paused for a moment, his fingers tracing the soft skin just above the waistband of her panties. His lips followed, brushing feather-light kisses along the edge, his stubble grazing her in a way that sent sparks skittering down her spine.

He glanced up at her then, his eyes meeting hers in a way that made her heart skip. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice low and full of care.

Gabby nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Glen smiled softly, his hands sliding along her hips as he kissed her skin once more, his touch both tender and electrifying as he continued to explore her with reverence.

Glen’s lips lingered against the curve of Gabby’s stomach before he pulled back just slightly, his gaze drifting down her body. A soft, appreciative smile tugged at his lips as his hands gently rested on her hips.

“Red,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration, “is definitely your color.”

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, her breath hitching at the way he looked at her—as if she were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen.

His fingers found the delicate waistband of her lace panties, hooking into the fabric with a deliberate slowness. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he began to slide them down, his movements unhurried and careful, as though savoring every moment.

The soft material brushed over her thighs, then past her knees, before he pulled them completely off and let them fall to the floor, joining the growing pile of their discarded clothes. His hands smoothed back up the length of her legs, his touch warm and reverent, until they settled at her waist again.

Glen leaned down, brushing a kiss just above her hipbone, and then another, his stubble grazing her skin.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against her, the word so soft it was almost inaudible.

Gabby’s breath came in shallow waves, her hands instinctively reaching for him, threading through his hair as her heart raced.

Glen’s lips found the soft skin of Gabby’s inner thigh, planting gentle kisses there that sent sparks through her body. His hands caressed her hips, holding her steady as his mouth began a slow, torturous journey up her thigh. His stubble grazed her sensitive skin, adding an extra layer of sensation that made her shiver.

He kissed a path higher, closer to where she wanted him most, but just as she thought he might give her what she was silently begging for, his mouth moved to the opposite thigh, starting the same agonizingly slow progression.

Gabby let out a frustrated whine, her hips instinctively lifting toward him in search of relief. “Glen,” she murmured, her voice laced with both desperation and need.

The sound of her voice made him pause, lifting his gaze to meet hers with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Patience, baby,” he teased, his tone light but filled with promise.

Her hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly in protest, and he chuckled softly, the vibrations of his laugh brushing against her skin.

“You’ll get what you want,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the sensitive spot just below her hipbone, “but I’m going to take my time.”

His lips returned to her thigh, this time with more intent. He kissed and lightly sucked on the delicate skin, leaving faint marks in his wake as Gabby squirmed beneath him. Her whines grew more insistent, her body arching toward him as if trying to guide him to where she needed him.

“Glen,” she breathed again, her voice trembling.

He smiled against her skin, brushing one last kiss to her thigh before finally, slowly, moving closer.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble.

He finally leaned in and gave Gabby what she so desperately wanted. The first touch of his tongue against her sent a shockwave through her, her body arching instinctively off the bed as a soft gasp escaped her lips.

Her head fell back against the covers, her fingers tightening in the fabric as she struggled to process the overwhelming sensation. Every slow, deliberate movement of his tongue drew a new sound from her, each one more desperate than the last.

“Glen,” she murmured, her voice shaky and filled with breathless awe. He hummed against her in response, the vibration adding another layer to the already unbearable pleasure coursing through her.

Her hand found its way to his hair again, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as if she needed something to anchor herself. Glen didn’t stop, his movements steady and precise as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.

“Taste incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his voice muffled but full of admiration.

Gabby’s breath hitched, her body reacting to every word, every touch. Her mind was hazy, consumed entirely by the sensation of him. Nothing else existed—just Glen, his touch, his warmth, and the way he was unraveling her so completely.

Glen's lips curved into a faint smile against her skin as he brought one hand up, his fingers gently brushing over her thigh before slipping between her legs to join the efforts of his tongue.

Gabby’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as her hips moved instinctively toward him. Every touch, every flick of his tongue and glide of his fingers, pushed her closer to the edge, her body trembling under his meticulous attention.

“Glen,” she gasped, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Her voice was breathless and unsteady, the sound of it only spurring him on.

His hand adjusted slightly, finding just the right rhythm, his fingers curling in a way that had her toes curling against the bed. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as the pressure inside her built to an almost unbearable peak.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmured against her, his voice low and full of awe. The vibrations of his words sent another shiver through her, and she could feel herself teetering on the brink.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her head rolling back against the covers as her body tensed. She was so close, every nerve in her body alive and reaching for release, and Glen could feel it.

“Let go, Gabs,” he said softly, his voice coaxing and tender.

Gabby’s entire body tensed, her back arching off the bed as the waves of release crashed over her. A soft cry escaped her lips, her hands clutching Glen’s hair as her head fell back into the covers. The intensity of it left her trembling, every nerve alive and pulsing as the feeling washed through her in powerful, consuming waves.

Glen didn’t stop, his mouth and fingers moving gently now, guiding her through her release with tender precision. He pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs as her breathing began to slow, his touch light and soothing as her body relaxed beneath him.

When she finally stilled, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths, Glen shifted. He pressed one final kiss to her hip before crawling up onto the bed beside her.

Gabby turned her head toward him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still half-lidded as she met his gaze. Glen’s lips curved into a soft smile as he reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding over her skin in slow, comforting strokes.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth.

Gabby let out a breathless laugh, her lips curving into a small, bashful smile. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispered, her voice still tinged with the aftermath of what he’d just done to her.

Glen’s smile widened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “How’re you feeling?” he asked softly, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing caress.

“Like I might float away,” she admitted, her voice light with a mix of wonder and contentment.

Glen chuckled, his hand slipping from her cheek to tangle gently with hers. “Then I’ll make sure to hold you down,” he teased, his voice playful but his eyes still tender.

Gabby smiled softly at Glen, her fingers brushing lightly over his as she squeezed his hand one more time before releasing it. She sat up slowly, her body still tingling from the intensity of her release, but her focus now shifting entirely to him.

Without saying a word, she slid off the edge of the bed and sank gracefully to her knees in front of him, her hands coming to rest on his thighs. Glen’s breath hitched as he watched her, his brows lifting slightly in surprise as her hands moved to the buckle of his belt.

“Gabby…” he murmured, but she didn’t stop, her fingers deftly undoing the clasp before moving to the button of his pants.

Before she could continue, Glen reached down, his hand gently covering hers to stop her. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and tender. “You don’t have to do that.”

Gabby tilted her head up to look at him, her wide eyes meeting his. “I know,” she whispered, her voice steady but warm. “I want to.”

Glen’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand where it rested on his belt. “Gabby…” he started, his tone still hesitant, but the way she was looking at him made his resolve falter.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” she said quietly, her sincerity shining through in every word. “Please, Glen.”

He exhaled deeply, his jaw tightening for a moment as he studied her. The vulnerability and care in her eyes were impossible to ignore, and the sheer fact that she wanted to do this for him made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Gabs,” he murmured with a soft chuckle, letting his hand fall away from hers.

Gabby’s fingers worked with a quiet determination, undoing the button and zipper of his pants with ease. Glen lifted his hips slightly, his muscles taut beneath her hands, allowing her to slide both his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. She shifted back to pull the fabric down his legs and discarded it to the side, leaving him bare before her.

Her breath hitched for a moment, her gaze falling to him. There was a flicker of nervousness that flashed across her face, but it was quickly overtaken by resolve as she reached up, wrapping her fingers delicately around him.

The heat of him was palpable, and her touch was tentative at first, but as her hand began to move—slowly sliding up and down his length—she found a rhythm, watching as Glen’s head fell back slightly, his lips parting.

A deep sound rumbled from his chest, a mixture of a groan and a sigh, and the noise sent a jolt of confidence through her. A faint smirk curved her lips as she glanced up at him, her heart fluttering at the sight of him so undone by her touch.

Glen’s head tilted back down, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. “Gabby…” he murmured, his voice rough. “You really don’t have to—”

Before he could finish, Gabby leaned in, her lips brushing against the tip of him as she let her tongue swirl gently over the sensitive skin. The effect was instant—his words cut off by a sharp intake of breath as his hands gripped the edge of the bed for support.

She glanced up at him again, her smirk widening just slightly as she spoke, her voice soft and teasing. “I want to,” she murmured, her tone steady and sure.

Glen’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep himself grounded. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, his voice strained but laced with a hint of humor.

Encouraged by his reaction, Gabby leaned in further, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, her tongue gliding against him with a slow, deliberate motion.

Gabby’s confidence grew as she moved, her lips and tongue exploring with a mix of curiosity and purpose. She shifted her hand slightly, stroking him with one hand while her mouth teased the sensitive tip. A low, guttural groan escaped Glen, and his hands fisted the bedspread beneath him.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a thrill through her. “Feels so good, baby.”

Her cheeks warmed at the praise, and she responded by taking him a little deeper, her tongue swirling as her movements became more assured. Another deep sound left him, this one longer, more unrestrained, and she couldn’t help the flicker of pride that sparked inside her.

Glen’s gaze, heavy and dark with desire, met hers briefly before his head tipped back again, his breath catching audibly. “You’re... incredible,” he managed, though his words were beginning to falter, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

Encouraged, Gabby let her lips slide down a little further, her hand shifting to match the rhythm of her mouth. She felt the way his thighs tensed beneath her, how his fingers flexed against the bedspread.

“Gabby,” he rasped, his voice breaking slightly. “I—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, his head fell back completely, exposing the strong column of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Words seemed to escape him now, replaced by deep groans and sharp intakes of breath.

As she continued, she felt the way his body began to tremble slightly under her touch, the tension building with each passing moment. She slowed her pace briefly, her tongue trailing softly along him before she took him deeper again, her movements intentional and unhurried.

“God, baby,” he groaned, his voice hoarse and strained, “you’re gonna ruin me.”

His words sent a spark of heat coursing through her, but as she glanced up again, she saw the way his lips parted with silent gasps now, how his head pressed harder into the mattress, his fingers digging into the sheets. He was unraveling beneath her touch, and the realization made her pulse race.

By now, Glen was barely able to form words, the sounds he made raw and unfiltered, filling the space between them. The sight of him this undone—completely at her mercy—only spurred her on.

Glen’s breathing grew heavier, and his body tensed more with each passing moment. His head tipped back, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control. He propped himself up on one arm now, his free hand twitching like he didn’t know whether to reach for her or hold himself steady.

“Gabby,” he rasped, his voice a broken whisper, “you don’t have to… you don’t have to finish—”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, her fingers tightening their grip at the base of him as she slowly dragged her tongue along the sensitive underside. His words cut off in a strangled gasp when she flicked her tongue against the soft spot just below the tip.

A deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat, and his hips jerked involuntarily as he came undone. Gabby hummed softly around him, the vibration only intensifying the sensation and making his release all the more overwhelming.

“Fuck, Ga-,” he choked out, his voice wrecked and breathless, his hand gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. His head fell back as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him, leaving him utterly undone beneath her touch.

She stayed with him, letting him ride it out, her movements gentle as she coaxed him through the peak and into the aftershocks. When he finally stilled, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath, she pulled back slowly, her lips curling into a small, satisfied smile as she looked up at him.

Glen dropped back onto the bed, his arm flung over his face as he let out a shaky laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice still rough around the edges.

Gabby shifted, crawling up the bed with an easy grace. She settled herself on her side next to Glen, her body curving into his as if she belonged there. One of her legs draped lazily over his, and her hand propped her head up as she looked down at him with a smile that was equal parts teasing and tender.

Glen let out a soft sigh, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he turned his head to meet her gaze. His arm came around her waist instinctively, his fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns against her lower back.

“You look ridiculously pleased with yourself,” he said, his tone low and affectionate.

“I am,” she admitted without hesitation, her smile widening. Her free hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “You make it easy to feel...accomplished.”

Glen let out a husky laugh, shaking his head as his eyes softened. “Accomplished? That’s one way to put it.”

Her thumb skimmed over his cheek, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply watched each other, the quiet intimacy between them far louder than any words could be.

“I could stay like this forever,” Gabby murmured eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I like the sound of that,” Glen replied without missing a beat, his hand stilling against her back. His eyes held hers, the weight of his words lingering in the air between them.

Glen’s hand slid from her back to her hip as he turned his head to look at her more fully, a soft smile tugging at his lips. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, making Gabby’s cheeks flush under the intensity of it.

“What?” she asked shyly, her voice quiet as her fingers toyed with the hem of the sheet draped across his waist.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smile widening. “I just... I love you.”

Gabby’s breath caught, her chest tightening as his words hung in the air between them. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but there was something about the way he said it now—so certain, so genuine—that made her heart stutter.

“I mean it,” Glen continued, his voice soft but steady. “I really love you, Gabby. I love everything about you. And I want you here, with me, as much as possible. When I’m in L.A., I want this to be your place too. I want to come home to you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she swallowed hard, forcing a small smile as her fingers stilled against the sheet. “Glen…” she started, but her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain the knot of hesitation that formed in her chest.

Glen noticed the shift in her expression immediately. “Talk to me,” he said gently, his thumb brushing small circles against her hip. "Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said quickly, her voice wavering as she tried to find the right words. “It’s just… it’s only been, what, two or three months? This is all happening so fast, and I…” She trailed off again, biting her lip and looking away.

“You’re worried we’re moving too fast,” Glen finished for her, his tone calm and understanding.

Gabby hesitated before nodding, her cheeks flushing with guilt. “It’s not that I don’t feel the same way,” she admitted softly. “I do. I just… I don’t want to mess this up by rushing things.”

Glen was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting against her hip. When he spoke, his voice was steady and reassuring. “You’re not going to mess this up, Gabby,” he said firmly. “I know it’s fast, and I know it’s a lot. But I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I love you, and I want to build a life with you. “

Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them away quickly, nodding as a small, grateful smile spread across her lips.

He smiled against her mouth, his hand slipping up to cup her cheek. “So,” he teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, “does that mean I should stop planning on clearing out closet space for you?”

Gabby laughed softly, resting her forehead against his. “Maybe just hold off for now,” she replied, her voice filled with affection. “But don’t let me stop you from thinking about it.”

Glen chuckled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Okay, how about this—we compromise,” he offered. “You don’t have to move in or make it a big thing. Just bring a couple of things. An outfit or two, some basics. Enough to have here when you stay over.”

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a curious look. “You mean like an overnight bag?”

He grinned. “Exactly. A toothbrush, some shampoo, an outfit or two—maybe even pajamas. Nothing permanent, just... a little something so you don’t have to lug a bag back and forth every time.”

She hesitated, mulling over his words. It was a small step, but it felt like a monumental one. Still, the way he framed it, so casual and without pressure, eased some of her apprehension.

“Just enough for a day or two,” she said slowly, testing the words on her tongue.

Glen nodded, his expression warm and patient. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Gabby sighed softly, a small smile creeping across her lips. “Fine,” she said, her tone teasing. “But don’t get any ideas about turning your spare closet into mine. This is strictly practical.”

“I would never dream of it,” Glen replied with a mock-serious expression, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told a different story.

She laughed, leaning forward to kiss him, her nerves beginning to settle. The compromise felt manageable, like dipping a toe into the waters of their future together rather than diving in headfirst.

As she pulled back, she caught the way Glen was looking at her—like she’d just made his entire night. “You’re really happy about this, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice soft.

“You have no idea,” he admitted, his smile widening. He shrugged, his smirk returning. “And I mean I think you technically live here based on the last time you spent the night before we went to Austin.”

Gabby shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. “…you actually remember what I said that morning?”

It took him a second to catch on, but then his smirk deepened. “You mean the time you looked ridiculously cute wrapped up in my bed and refused to get up and declared you officially lived here now? Yeah I remember that.”

Gabby felt her cheeks heat up as she laughed. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” Glen said with a wink. “You sounded dead serious at the time, by the way.”

“Only because your bed is ridiculously comfortable,” she countered, though her smile gave away how much the memory meant to her.

“Well,” Glen said, taking her hand and lacing his fingers with hers, “now you don’t have to just pretend. You’re welcome here anytime, Gabs.”

Gabby leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Glen’s in a kiss that started tender but quickly deepened. She shifted closer, her hand sliding up to cup his jaw as his fingers skimmed along her waist. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and before she knew it, Glen was guiding her to straddle his lap.

Her legs settled on either side of him as his hands found her hips, holding her securely. His lips never left hers, the kiss growing more fervent, more consuming, until he finally pulled away, needing to catch his breath.

Glen smiled up at her, his hands still resting on her hips, his eyes filled with an unmistakable affection that made Gabby’s heart flutter. He didn’t say anything, just gazed at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You’ve got to stop looking at me like that,” she said, her voice light, though her cheeks warmed under his adoring gaze.

“Like what?” Glen asked, his smile growing wider, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Like I’m some kind of angel or something,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of shyness.

He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “Maybe that’s because you are.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, though the smile on her face betrayed her attempt at pretending to be unaffected. She leaned down to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was slower, sweeter, as if they were savoring the moment, knowing their time together was limited.

Glen’s hands slid up her back, pulling her closer until their foreheads rested together. Neither of them spoke for a moment, their breaths mingling in the quiet. The weight of his impending departure hung between them, unspoken but palpable.

“I hate leaving you,” Glen murmured, his voice low and tinged with regret. “It feels harder every time.”

Gabby’s fingers threaded into his hair, her touch soft and reassuring. “I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Her words hit him with a force he didn’t expect, and for a moment, all he could do was look at her—this woman who had somehow become his everything. His thumb brushed along her cheek as he studied her, committing every detail of her face to memory.

“God, I’m crazy about you,” Glen said, the words escaping before he could think to hold them back. “I hope you know that.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a soft smile, and she leaned into his touch. “I think I do,” she said, her tone light but her eyes glimmering with emotion. “And just in case you were wondering—I’m pretty crazy about you too.”

Glen chuckled, though the sound was tinged with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her as if he could hold her close enough to make time stand still. She rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest as they sat there, lost in the quiet comfort of each other.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he said after a while, his voice barely above a murmur.

Gabby shifted slightly in his lap, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. She leaned in, her lips brushing softly against his, her kiss a silent reassurance. When she pulled back, her eyes met his, steady and unwavering.

“I’m here now,” she whispered, her words like a balm to the ache in his chest. “Let’s not waste the time we do have.”

A flicker of something intense passed through Glen’s eyes, and before either of them could say anything more, he kissed her. This time, it wasn’t tender or measured—it was filled with need, a raw hunger that matched the longing they both felt. Gabby responded just as eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as her body pressed closer to his.

As the kiss deepened, her hips moved instinctively, a slow, subtle shift against him that sent a jolt of heat through his entire body. Glen’s hands tightened on her waist, his grip grounding but filled with desire. The soft sigh she let out against his mouth only spurred him on, his lips moving to her jaw, then to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

As their kisses grew deeper, the space between them seemed to disappear entirely. Gabby’s hips moved again, this time more deliberate, drawing a low groan from Glen that she felt more than heard. His hands returned to her waist, steadying her, though it was clear he wasn’t trying to stop her. Instead, he seemed content to let her take the lead, his gaze burning into hers as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Time seemed to blur, the world outside their little bubble fading away. It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was the way they fit together so seamlessly, the way every touch, every kiss felt like a promise that no amount of distance could break.

A few hours later, Gabby lay nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breaths. His arm was wrapped securely around her, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along her bare shoulder.

They’d lost track of time, caught in a bubble of quiet contentment. The world outside didn’t seem to matter; it was just them, tangled together, their conversation flowing effortlessly between moments of shared laughter and comfortable silence.

Gabby shifted slightly, resting her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “Do you ever feel like…this is all that really matters?” she asked softly, her voice carrying the kind of vulnerability that only came in moments like this.

Glen looked down at her, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “All the time,” he admitted. “Especially when I’m with you.”

Gabby sighed contentedly, letting her head rest against him again. “You’re going to make it really hard for me to let you leave.”

Glen tightened his hold on her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Trust me, it’s not easy for me either.”

They lay there for a while longer, their voices soft as they talked about nothing and everything all at once. Eventually, Gabby glanced at the clock on the nightstand and groaned. “What time’s your flight again?”

Glen followed her gaze, letting out a quiet sigh. “Soon,” he admitted reluctantly. “I should probably get ready.”

Gabby sat up slightly, pulling the sheets around her. “I guess that means I should too,” she said with a small smile, though her eyes betrayed the reluctance she felt at the thought of their time together coming to an end.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he looked at her with a mix of affection and regret. “We’ll make this work, Gabby. I promise.”

Her smile grew a little stronger at his words. “I know we will.”

Gabby sat on the edge of Glen’s bed, the crumpled dress from earlier draped over her lap. She held it up, inspecting the fabric with a small frown before glancing toward Glen. “I really don’t want to put this back on,” she admitted, her voice light but laced with the reluctance she felt about the moment slipping away.

Glen, who was standing by the dresser pulling a clean shirt over his head, glanced back at her with a soft chuckle. “The offer still stands, you know. T-shirt and sweats. Might be a little big on you, though.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing as she let the dress fall to the floor. “Sold,” she said, standing up and padding over to him.

Glen chuckled as she slipped into the bathroom to change. When she returned, his t-shirt hung loose on her frame, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, and the sweatpants had to be rolled at the waist several times to fit. She plopped back down onto his bed, pulling her legs up and sitting cross-legged as she watched him finish getting dressed.

Glen was buttoning up his shirt, the movement practiced and casual, but Gabby couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way his hands moved, the way the fabric settled against his chest. He leaned down to grab his jeans from the floor, pulling them on with ease before reaching for his belt.

Her heart ached a little as she realized how much she’d miss him. Five more weeks. Five more weeks of not waking up next to him, not hearing his laugh in person, not having quiet moments like this. But she knew they’d make it through, just like they had before.

“Five weeks,” she said softly, her voice breaking through the quiet as she traced circles on the bedspread with her finger.

Glen glanced over at her, his hands pausing on his belt buckle. “Five weeks is nothing compared to forever, right?” He said, his tone steady, reassuring.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her hands, unable to stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Forever, huh?”

He smirked, walking over to her and crouching down so they were eye level. “Yeah,” he said simply, reaching out to brush his thumb against her cheek. “Forever.”

Gabby leaned into his touch for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “I know we’ve got this,” she said, her voice more confident this time. “It just…sucks. That’s all.”

Glen gave her a small smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up. “It does suck,” he agreed, grabbing his bag from the corner of the room. “But it’s not forever. And you’ll be so busy with school, you’ll probably barely notice I’m gone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You think school’s going to keep me so entertained that I’ll forget about you?”

Glen chuckled, hoisting Brisket’s carrier off the floor and glancing down at the tiny dog, who was already dozing inside. “I mean, you’re a full-time college student, Gabby. Papers to write, exams to study for... you’re basically living the dream.”

Gabby snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the edge of the bed. “If by ‘the dream,’ you mean sleep deprivation and caffeine addiction, then yeah, sure. Totally living it.”

Glen grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You forgot ramen noodles and midnight existential crises.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Wow, you’ve really nailed the college experience, haven’t you? How long were you in school? Two semesters before you started acting full-time?”

“Three,” he corrected, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I was practically a veteran by the time I dropped out.”

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head as she stood and grabbed her own bag. The playful banter helped stave off the heaviness that lingered just beneath the surface, but she could feel it creeping closer with every passing second.

As Glen adjusted Brisket’s carrier, she reached out to smooth the strap of his bag on his shoulder, her hand lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “I’m just saying,” she murmured, her tone softening, “I’m not exactly going to forget about you, Glen. No matter how busy I get.”

He stilled for a moment, his gaze dropping to meet hers. The smile he gave her this time wasn’t the teasing one from earlier—it was something quieter, more sincere. “I know you won’t,” he said, his voice low.

The air between them shifted, the weight of the impending goodbye settling in. Gabby swallowed hard, forcing herself to smile as she gestured toward the door. “We should probably get going before you miss your flight.”

Glen laughed, the sound breaking through the tension and easing the moment. “Can’t have that,” he agreed, moving toward the door and holding it open for her.

Glen began loading his bag and Brisket’s carrier into the trunk of the waiting car. A second car sat a few feet behind, ready to take Gabby back to her apartment. The sight of it—of the separate paths they were about to take—sent a pang through her chest.

Glen turned to her as he closed the trunk, his expression softening when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as if he were steeling himself for what came next.

“Gabby…” His voice was gentle, barely above a whisper as he stepped closer.

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek despite her best efforts to hold it together. “I’m fine,” she said, though the wobble in her voice betrayed her. “I’m fine. I just—”

But she didn’t get to finish. Glen pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace that made it feel, if only for a moment, like everything was going to be okay. She buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as more tears spilled over.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he rested his chin on top of her head. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve done this before, remember? Five weeks, and then we’re together. You’ll blink, and it’ll be over.”

Gabby let out a shaky laugh, her words muffled against his chest. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s going to be hard,” Glen admitted, his arms tightening around her. “But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

His words made her heart ache in the best and worst way, and she tilted her head back to look up at him. His expression was tender, his blue eyes filled with a warmth that made it impossible to feel completely broken.

“I hate this part,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Me too,” Glen said softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear. “But I’ll call you as soon as I land. And we’ll text. And FaceTime. You’re going to get so sick of me, Gabby.”

She managed a small smile, her hands still clutching the front of his shirt. “I could never get sick of you.”

“Good.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that started slow, like he was savoring every second of it. But as her hands slid up to cup his face, and his arms pulled her closer, the kiss deepened.

Gabby lost herself in him, in the way his lips moved against hers with a tenderness that made her knees weak and a passion that made her heart ache. Glen’s hands drifted to her waist, holding her to him as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

The rest of the world faded away. There was no car waiting, no goodbye looming—just them, tangled in a kiss that neither one wanted to end.

It wasn’t until the driver cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the moment, that they broke apart. Glen exhaled heavily, resting his forehead against hers as they both tried to steady their breathing.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shooting a sheepish glance at the driver before turning his attention back to her. “I guess we got carried away.”

Gabby shook her head, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Not for that.”

Glen smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The ache of parting was already settling in, but he cupped her face gently, brushing one last kiss to her lips before stepping back.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady even as his eyes betrayed the emotion he was holding back.

“I love you too,” Gabby whispered.

With one last hug, Glen reluctantly released her and climbed into the car. Gabby stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the car pull away. Her own driver stood patiently by the second car, but she didn’t move right away.

She stood there for a moment longer, staring down the empty street, letting the quiet settle around her. Then, with a deep breath, she turned and got into her car, her heart already counting down the days until Glen came back.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell Series #Glen Powell x OC #Glen Powell x Original Character

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