the dingy metal numbers on each door until he found Room 4.
His heart did another flip, a dying fish doing gymnastics, as he raised his knuckles to rap on the wood. He took a gulp of air in, let it out through his nose, and knocked. There was a sound on the other side of the door, a scrape, and then it swung inwards. It stopped as the chain pulled taut and Gabriel’s eyes met his and his heartbeat stilled for a moment.
“Gabe-babe.” Urban’s lips twisted into a smile and he saw relief flood Gabriel’s face, the nerves fading fast. He shut the door promptly in Urban’s face, then opened it again, and this time there was no chain between them. Urban took him in: Dark jeans that hugged his hips and rode a little low, a button-down shirt, and the scuffed sneakers Urban had let him borrow. His hair was pulled back away from his face, making the angles of his cheekbones a little sharper.
But damn if the man didn’t look like an angel minus the wings. And he knew what he thought about angels. Fucking sexy.
He took one stride forwards—that was all he needed. Deftly looping an arm around Gabriel’s waist, he tugged the man flush to him and placed a quick, firm kiss on his lips. Gabe stiffened, hands rising to greet Urban’s chest, and Urban swept his tongue over the man’s bottom lip before releasing him. Gabriel merely stared at him, a stunned expression on his face, and Urban grinned despite the rush in his head.
“I had to. I’d say sorry, but that’d be a lie and that would be a rough start to our relationship.”
“Relationship?”
His grin merely grew wider. “I intend to have you,” he said simply. “You can freak out, but remember: You called me.” Then he winked and shouldered past Gabriel into the tiny room, whistling as he caught sight of the single bed. They’d have to share and if Urban had it his way, they wouldn’t be sleeping.
Gabriel made a sound and shut the door behind him, as if he could read Urban’s mind. The locks clicked into place and when Urban turned, the man had pressed his back against the wall, looking out of place and nervous. Urban watched him carefully, watched the way his chest rose up and down a little faster than usual, and he stepped forwards. “Gabe,” he murmured. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“This changes everything,” Gabriel replied, crossing both arms over his chest.
Urban caught sight of the black ink trailing up and down the other man’s arm. He reached out, pulling Gabe towards him, and recognized the numbers in a spiral tattoo down his wrist. His call number had been printed in scribbled handwriting, the numbers repeated over and over again like a chorus to a set of song lyrics. He let a grin spread across his lips. “Obviously.”
Gabriel flushed and turned away just as there was a scratch at the door.
“Hell. Pandora.” Urban dropped his bags on the floor and reached for the locks, but Gabe’s hand clamped on his wrist made him stop.
“You’re not letting that beast in my room.”
“I’m not letting her get stolen.”
“I’m sure she can take care of herself.”
“She’s coming in.”
Gabriel stepped in front of the door with a growl on his lips. “I don’t like dogs.”
“Gabe.” Urban’s voice softened at the gleam of fear in the other man’s eyes. He reached for Gabriel, but the man shied away. “She’s not going to hurt you. I promise. If it makes you feel better, we’ll tie her to the door.” Oh, Pandora would just love him for that. Hopefully Gabe would change his mind once the hound started barking.
Urban unlocked the door, swinging it open wide enough for Pan to shimmy her skinny butt through. Her tail wagged as she licked at Gabriel’s fingers, but the man had backed against the wall, his eyes pressed closed.
“Pan,” Urban warned, fishing a leash out of his bag and clipping it to her collar. He knotted the end around the doorknob and Pandora bounced back as she hit the end of her rope.