Page 112 of Breaking Hollywood

His eyes snap back to mine. “It’s not about not trusting you. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”

“Then, what is it?”

His eyes go to the floor. His hands on his hips, he heaves out another sigh. “I don’t want to change the way you look at me.”

I drop my arms and take a step toward him. “Nothing could change the way I look at you.”

He lets out a laugh, but it’s hollow and humorless. “That’s an easy statement to make when you don’t know everything.”

“So, tell me.”

He shakes his head, like he’s having an internal battle with himself.

“Gabe…”

“I used to sleep with women for money.”

“What?”

“And my parents are in prison for drug trafficking, racketeering, and murder.”

Ava

“I’m sorry, what?” Reeling from what he just said, I reach out for something to hold on to, but there’s nothing but air.

“Ava, do you need to sit down?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so.”

I walk over to the sofa on wobbly legs and sit down on the edge, fingers gripping it.

Gabe stays standing by the window. The light frames him, making him look incandescent. And beautiful. So very beautiful.

He’s not looking at me. His dark eyes are on the floor.

His words keep echoing around in my head.

“I used to sleep with women for money.”

“And my parents are in prison for drug trafficking, racketeering, and murder.”

I thought his parents were dead. Apparently not.

He’s not saying anything. I think he’s waiting for me to speak.

Honestly, I don’t know what to say.

But I go with the latter, as that seems more important. “So, your parents aren’t dead. They’re in prison,” I say in a quiet voice.

“Yes.” His voice is rough.

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

“How? Why?”

“It’s a long story.”