My tongue slides across her lips and her mouth opens for me. I can feel her complete and utter submission. Her own need. Her desire that matches my own. Lost in the moment, I take what I’ve wanted for so long. Deep, consuming, I kiss her until we’re both breathless with it.
I place my hands on her face, feel the wetness of her cheeks on my fingers.
Shit, she’s crying.
I pull back, and she blinks up at me, emotion pouring from those beautiful hazel eyes. Trust, love, confusion, fear.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping my hands and staggering back. “I’m sorry.”
Her fingers flutter over her kiss-swollen lips. “It-it’s okay.” She chokes on the words that come out more as a whimper.
“No. It’s not.” I just screwed up royally. And yet I still want more. Want all of her. “I have to get out of here.” My voice is gruff, almost violent with a need that I can never fill.
She sucks in a shaky breath, and I see the panic that tightens her features. “Abbott, don’t go. We can talk about it.”
But I’m already flying out the door, knowing if I stay another second, I’ll do something even stupider, even more destructive than kissing her. I’ll finally take what I’ve wanted all these years.
And destroy us both.
Chapter 10
London
“I know I’m the worst friend in the world for saying this, but what did you expect?” Monica sits on the kitchen counter of the hospital staff room and does little to hide the disapproval in her voice.
I give a small shrug, wishing for a little more sympathy and a lot less I told you so. But one thing I’ve always appreciated about my friend is her honesty, even if the truth hurts.
I rub my belly when I feel a small kick.
Everything with Abbott had been so good. At least until I’d gone and ruined it. He may have been the one who kissed me first, but I pushed it...pushed him.
But God, that kiss.
His lips.
His hands.
His body hard against mine.
Just the memory makes a small tremor race through me.
He kissed me. And I kissed him back.
But now I’m about to have his best friend’s baby.
That’s not even Dr. Phil worthy, it’s more Maury Povich.
“So what are you going to do now?” Monica asks, always quick to bring me back to reality. “I heard Katie saying she was looking for a roommate. I can ask her—”
“He hasn’t moved out,” I say, even though the last few days I’ve expected to come home and find his things gone.
“Yet.” Monica gives an exaggerated sigh. “You know it’s just a matter of time.” She shifts off the counter, then moves toward me, taking my hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Sweetie, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you have to start thinking about what you’re going to do when he leaves.”
He won’t leave. But even as I think it, I know the truth. I’ve always known the truth. And already I’ve found him pacing the apartment, like an animal in a cage, plotting his escape.
Tears burn my eyes and I blink them away. “I’ll be fine.”
I have to be, because it’s not just me I have to think about now.
It doesn’t matter that Abbott has gone all mercurial, barely saying three words to me anytime our paths cross. It doesn’t matter that he’s been home less and less, coming in late when I’m already in bed. And it doesn’t matter that my heart aches every time I hear his bedroom door shut or the creak of his mattress under his weight.
It doesn’t matter...except it does.
I wanted that kiss, so much my body throbbed from the need of it. And it was good. No, it was better than good. It was everything and more. And for a moment I felt his walls crumble, felt his soul burning with mine, showing me the pieces of himself he always tries so desperately to hide.
And then it was over. And he was gone. And I knew I’d just messed everything up.
“It’s my fault—”
“No,” Monica warns. “He kissed you.”
I nod, my lips tingling with the memory. “But I wanted it...and I’m the one who pushed him, even though I knew...” Even though I knew it was wrong.
Then why did it feel so right?
“At least you didn’t sleep with him,” she says, like that the idea would have brought about Armageddon. “It was just a kiss.”
But it wasn’t just a kiss.
“Hey, Monica.” Abby, one of the full-time nurses, pops her head around the door. “Mrs. Mendez’s light is on again. If I have to go in that room one more time today and hear about her ingrown—”
“I’ll deal with her,” Monica says.
“Thanks, you’re a saint,” Abby says, then looks at me. “Your shift ended almost an hour ago. Go home and get some rest.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Monica says before following Abby out the door.
What I need is to not be in love with my best friend. But since that’s not going to happen, I need to think of another way out of this mess I made for myself.
Maybe I have been avoiding Abbott as much as he’s been avoiding me. But there’s that little voice in the back of my head that keeps thinking that maybe if we just don’t talk about it, everything will go back to the way it was.
My fingers flutter to my lips, and I close my eyes briefly as the memory of that kiss warms my whole body. It’s not just the heat, the need that fills me, but an ache in my chest, a desire to belong to the man completely. It’s always been there. But now, it’s like whatever had been holding back the feelings cracked.
And I know that’s exactly how he’ll leave me when he finally goes.
Cracked.
Broken.
Half of who I am without him.
But maybe Monica is right, maybe I should ask him to leave now before things get more complicated. Or before he leaves on his own. That’s what you’re really worried about. That’ll you’ll be abandoned again.
“Great. Now I’m psychoanalyzing myself,” I mumble as I step outside. The sun is out, and I inhale a deep breath. “Abbott’s right, it is annoying.”
“What am right about?”
I turn at the sound of the deep familiar voice and see Abbott stretch his long limbs before standing from the bench he was sitting on just outside the hospital doors.
“Hey,” I say warily. It’s not the first time he’s waited for me after one of my shifts, but after the silent treatment he’s given me the last few days, I’m surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs lazily, but I see the same wariness in his eyes when he meets my gaze. “I was waiting for you.” He lifts a brown paper bag, opening it slightly so that the sweet smell of cinnamon buns wafts out. “I brought food.”
My stomach rumbles and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. “That’s not food, it’s diabetes in a bag.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, but they’re your favorite.”
“They are.” Our gazes are locked, so many unsaid words hanging between us. “You could have just given them to me at home.”
He shifts from one foot to another, then glances up at the sky. “I know, but it’s supposed to rain, and I noticed you didn’t take your car, so I thought I’d pick you up. You have your appointment with Dr. Dorman in an hour—”
“Oh shit. I forgot.”
He gives me a crooked smile and taps his forehead. “Good thing you have me.”
My heart does a small flutter.
Do I have him? My heart whispers yes, but my head screams a resounding no.
God, how can he be such an asshole and a good guy all at the same time? So caring and yet so quick to push me away.
“You don’t have to go with me,” I tell him when he opens the car door for me.
He doesn’t respond, but I feel his tension, that push and pull thing he does. But I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he rounds the car and gets in beside me. It’s not until he starts the ignition that I glance ove
r and notice the bruise on his temple.
“You’ve been fighting?” I can’t help the disappointment that drips from my words, because I wonder what else he’s been doing the past few days.
He doesn’t look away from the road in front of him. “Yeah. But not like you think. I’m just training. Running the club is shit pay. But Moody is already trying to get me a fight with the previous middleweight champion. It would be televised and everything.”
“That’s amazing.”
I know he’s trying to hold back his excitement, but I see the way his lips twitch up. “Yeah. Didn’t think I’d ever get a chance like this. Not after...”
I know where his thoughts go. To Kyle. And I can practically feel the weight of his guilt fill the car.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell him. “You deserve this.”
He glances over briefly, his expression unreadable. “No, I don’t. But I’m not going to throw away this opportunity.”
Silence hangs between us, and I wonder if we’re just not going to talk about the kiss. Maybe it’s easier that way. But it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Or that even now I want him to kiss me again.
At the doctor’s office, Abbott insists that he comes in with me. I start to argue, but he gives me one of his looks that I know not to argue with. It would just cause a ten-minute discussion that would result in him getting his own way anyway.
“Turn around,” I say when we’re in the small exam room.
“Why?”
“Because I have to get naked.”
His eyes widen and he chokes out a cough. “Naked?”
I hold up the thin cotton gown that was laid out on the table, amused by the way he starts to squirm. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Oh...yeah...right.” He rubs the back of his neck and turns around.
“Done,” I say when I’ve undressed and shifted into the ugly blue gown. “You can turn around again.”
His face is all shades of red when he does.
I’m about to make a joke about it when there’s a knock on the door and Dr. Dorman comes in.
“There’s my favorite patient,” he says, squinting at me through his thick-rimmed glasses before glancing down at my chart, most likely to remind himself of my name. “Looks like the nurse took all your vitals and everything looks good. Have you had any concerns?”
“No, I’ve been—”
“She’s been tired a lot,” Abbott interrupts. “And she’s had a few dizzy spells.”
Dr. Dorman doesn’t seem fazed by Abbott’s little outburst. “That’s all to be expected. Blood pressure is in normal range, and your bloodwork came back fine.”
“You’re sure?” Abbott says.
“Abbott,” I warn.
Dr. Dorman chuckles. “It’s good to see a concerned husband. But I can assure you that your wife—”
“I’m not his..,” I say quickly, and obviously a little too loudly, because both men raise their brows at me. “I mean we’re just...friends.”
“Sorry. I should know better than to make assumptions. I see all sorts of families in here. Now, then, would you like to see your baby?” The question is directed at Abbott. And I realize that the man only assumed that I meant Abbott wasn’t my husband and not the father of my baby.
I start to correct him, but Abbott is already nodding, unfazed by the man’s assumption.
Dr. Dorman lifts my gown and places cool jelly over my stomach, and when the monitor starts to bleep and a grayscale image pops up on the screen and I see the outline of my baby’s face, everything else is forgotten.
Chapter 11
Abbott
“Shit.” I lean forward, closer to London, taking her hand as I look at the tiny features on the screen. “It looks like a real baby.”
London laughs. “It is a real baby.”
“No. I mean you can see its face, and hands, and shit...” I point at the screen. “Is that his—”
“It’s the umbilical cord,” the doctor says, chuckling. “But I can tell you what you’re having if you want to know.”
“You want to find out?” I glance down at London, who chews her on her bottom lip.
“Yeah, I kind of do.” Her eyes are wide with excitement.
“Have you picked any girl names yet?” the doctor asks.
“No, why?” London’s eyes go even wider, and she says, “I’m having a girl?”
“You are. Congratulations.”
“Oh...wow.” There are tears in her eyes and her fingers tighten around mine. “I told you I knew.”
I kiss her forehead as London’s eyes fill up with tears.
“She’s going to one lucky little girl to have you for a mom,” I say. I know I’m too close to her, that this isn’t my moment to share. But like the greedy bastard I am, I take it. Needing to be part of this small joy.
London sniffs, those big hazel eyes locked on mine. There are still so many things unsaid between us. I spent the last three days tormenting myself with ways I could somehow be the man she wants me to be. How I could redeem myself. Give her what she needs.
But even sober as fuck, I’m still a bastard haunted by demons and lies that I’ll never be rid of. I made the mistake of kissing her. I won’t cross that line again. But there’s also nothing that will make me break my promise to her. And I need her to know that. No matter what happens, I’ll never abandon her or her daughter.
I press my forehead to hers, feeling like a damn imposter. So fucking torn.
“London, I—”
The doctor coughs and I pull back slightly, realizing that once again I overstepped the boundaries.
“If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you two be.”
“Thank you.” London shifts in the chair and I release her hand.
I start to pace, hands on the back of my head. Everything has been so damn heavy with us, I wanted to ease the tension. But I know eventually we’re going to have to talk about the kiss.
“I’m sorry about the other day,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets and leaning against the wall. It’s either that or scoop her in my arms and give her a repeat of what I’m apologizing for.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
“I shouldn’t have walked out. I was...fuck.” I don’t know what I was. “I’m just sorry.”
“I know.” She’s always so quick to forgive. Too quick. But I wonder if she’d ever forgive me if she knew the truth of who I am. A monster. A murderer. A man who can never be good enough for her or the little girl she’s carrying.
“How about ice cream to celebrate?” I say, wanting to make things right. “Or we can go to that baby outlet center in town and get some of those frilly little dresses and headbands with the flowers.”
London laughs and shakes her head. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
“What?” I smirk at her.
“Frilly dresses and headbands with flowers?” Her brows raise.
“You forget Kade forced me to babysit Lola once a week for the first five years of her life. I know my princesses and tiaras. I’m a big fan of Ariel.”
“Ariel?”
“The Little Mermaid.”
“I know who Ariel is, but seriously?”
“Those hot little shells she wore...” I whistle low and cup my hands like breasts over my chest. “Now those are sexy.”
She smacks my arm. “Pervert.”
I shrug and keep smirking, finally able to take a deep breath for the first time in three days, because I can feel the tension lifting between us.
Everything will be all right.
Bullshit, that nagging voice in my head says. You’ll find a way to screw it up again.
London reaches for her clothes and I turn around again, focusing on the wall of baby pictures. It hits me that this is going to be my reality soon. Dirty diapers and midnight feedings. It should scare the shit out of me.
But it doesn’t.
“So what do you say. Ice
cream and shopping?” I ask, my back still turned to her.
She doesn’t answer.
“Or we can just pick up take-out and watch a movie at home.”
“I’m dressed,” she says softly, and when I turn around, there are tears in her eyes.
My throat constricts and I can’t help but move quickly to her, cupping her jaw and searching her face for any hint that I’ve caused whatever is bothering her. “Shit. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s stupid and I’m just...emotional because of all the hormones. Will you just take me home.”
“Yeah.” There’s the heaviness again, blanketing the room.
My fault.
I help her into her coat, wishing I could wrap my arms around her and kiss away her sorrow. And I almost do. Almost give into the need.
The beast inside me snarls to take what I want, what I know is mine.
It may not be a kiss, but I know I surprise us both as I take her hand as we leave the exam room.
“Abbott,” a woman calls out to me as we walk through the crowded waiting room.
My sister-in-law, Sophie, stands to meet us, my brother, Kade, behind her, holding a squawking infant.
London starts to pull her hand back, but I hold it tighter.
“Hey,” I say, meeting my brother and sister-in-law’s quizzical looks. Good, let them wonder. I don’t need to explain myself.
“Uncle Abs,” a child’s shrill laugh fills the room. I let out a huff as my niece jumps into my arms, and I have no choice but to release London’s hand.
“Hey princess,” I say, hugging her back. Shit, I didn’t realize until now how much I missed the little twerp. “Look how big you are.”
“How come you don’t come over anymore?” She sticks out her bottom lip in a pout, then looks over at London, and her eyes go big as saucers. “Are you having a baby too?”
Kade coughs and I feel London tense beside me.
“You remember my friend, London?” I put Lola down. “She’s having a baby.”
Lola sticks out her hand and London takes it. “My mommy just had a baby. He cries all the time,” she says with the exaggeration of a six-year-old. “I wanted a little sister, but Daddy says we can’t send him back.”
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