But I’m not an exhibitionist… And she’d been drinking.
And from what I could tell, she’d kept a decent buzz going. I wasn’t about to take advantage of her. But, God, do I wish she’d been sober.
Those doe eyes she gave me as she stared expectantly at her doorstep? They’ll be forever etched in my brain as a constant reminder of what a dumb fuck I am.
Why the fuck didn’t I just kiss her?
She’d been sending me the signals all night.
Hell, it’s not like a kiss must lead to sex.
I need to rectify this.
Unable to sleep, I get up early and punish myself some more by enduring a grueling workout. Knowing I can’t show up at her place until a decent time, I push things to the limit, and every muscle in my body knows just how much I fucking hate what I didn’t do to Abby last night. Then I rush home to shower and shave.
Now as I drum on the steering wheel of my SUV, I’m second-guessing my need to rush to Abby’s. Shit. It’s only eight twenty-one—there’s no way I can knock on her door at an ungodly hour after she’s been up late drinking.
Nine o’clock is a respectable time.
I’ll wait until then.
Yeah—that’s so much easier said than done. I pull out my phone, but it holds no interest. I’d text my parents, but I’m not in the mood to explain why I suddenly feel so freaking nervous. I don’t share much with my parents, but texting early on a Sunday morning will bring on more questions than necessary.
Thinking back on last night, I seriously let the perfect moment slip away. Of course, I had good intentions. But let’s face it—doing the right thing left me with a bad case of blue balls—not that I would’ve let it go that far. Holding her tight little body against mine on the dance floor felt incredible. Our bodies were in perfect sync as we moved. I can only imagine what would happen if we were together behind closed doors.
I glance to the clock. Only freaking twelve minutes have passed. How the hell is this possible? Is time slowing down?
Fuck, this is torture!
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves as I run my hands down my jeans. The minute I’m calm, my mind goes back to Abby. There’s no way this is a one-way street. She’s been sending distinct vibes in my direction.
Abby’s not one to mince words or string someone along. Neither am I, for that matter. It’s time to fish or cut bait as my grandfather used to say. What’s the worst that can happen?
She just wants to be friends.
Shit. That would suck.
But if I don’t tell her how I feel, I’ll never know.
My instincts have never led me wrong. I’m certain she feels something toward me.
I’m just not sure what.
I mentally prep myself for what I’ll tell her, much in the same way I do before each game. I shake out my hands and release any built-up tension.
You have this, Jacobs. Just walk up to her and tell her how you feel.
The answer will always be no if I never ask.
When the clock finally reads nine, I let myself get out of the car I’ve been parked in for the last thirty minutes and practically run up Abby’s stairs. I quickly knock on the door with three solid raps.
I hear movement from the other side, and I impatiently wait for the door to answer. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m going to say, but I know with every fiber of my being, I need to see her.
When the door cracks open, I’m relieved as fuck to find Abby on the other side. She’s fresh out of the shower with her long hair dripping wet. Her face is free of any makeup, and she’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt and yoga pants. Even with her shocked expression, she’s beyond beautiful.
Disbelief registers on her face, as I step toward her and practically growl, “Abby, you look gorgeous.”
My hand instinctively reaches out to settle at the base of her neck, and the pad of my thumb traces the bottom lip she’s trying to tuck under her teeth. I want to free that lip with my teeth, but I refrain and say what I came here for. “I told myself I couldn’t do this last night while you were drinking, but now, I don’t have to stop myself.”
Without wasting another second, my hand envelops her waist, and her head naturally tilts. Her minty breath saturates my senses, and I close the gap between us.
Our lips touch, flames ignite, and I draw her closer to me. Our difference in height has me lifting her as she wraps her legs around my waist. Sweeping my tongue across her lips, she opens for me, and her taste is nothing I’ve ever experienced.
She. Is. Everything.
Everything I’ve ever hoped for.
Everything I’ve dreamed of, and everything I never knew I wanted.
I can’t control my sudden rush of emotions. I’m sure I’ve fallen for the woman in my arms. That realization alone makes me completely lose myself in her and get consumed with our kiss.
Eventually, a car door slams in the distance, and I’m brought back to reality. I slow our kiss and when I completely regain control of myself, I place her back on her feet. We hold each other as our breaths even out.
When she pulls back, Abby rocks my world even further when she smirks and says, “Took you long enough,” causing us both to burst out in laughter.
Damn. Is there anything I don’t like about her?
“I’ve been dying to do that for so long,” I hungrily admit as I reach out to brush her hair from her face, so I can fully read her expressions. Her beautiful brown eyes are the color of honey in this light.
“You and me both, mister,” she teases, then she reaches for my hand. “Wanna come inside or are we going to continue giving the neighbors a show?”
Shaking my head, I follow her inside. I may have gotten lost in the moment, but I’m not an exhibitionist. “Have you eaten breakfast?” I ask when I hear movement from down the hall.
“No. I just got out of the shower. Do you want anything?”
Knowing if I stay here in this apartment much longer, the only thing I’m going to want for breakfast—is her, I suggest, “Wanna go to the diner?”
Abby looks to the kitchen, then back at me. “Uh. Sure. Give me a second, and I’ll just grab my purse.”
Before she can step away, I grab her by the waist and pull her close. Now that I’ve had a taste, I’m a greedy bastard and want more. I press my lips to hers and what starts out as a light and feathery kiss, quickly turns to an inferno. I could kiss Abby for days. Her hands wrap around my neck, and her fingers run through my hair. She feels amazing. Eventually, the clearing of a throat registers in the background, and I force myself to pull away.
Sydney cringes in our direction as we make eye contact with her. “Sorry.” She scratches the back of her head and looks extremely uncomfortable. “I… uh… was already in the hallway when you started, and since I’m not into voyeurism… And I need to get to my study group, I’d rather let you know I was here. Besides, you’re blocking my only exit, unless I want to crawl out my bedroom window.”
Abby shakes her head and chuckles. “Well, that’d be difficult, since we’re on the second floor.” She reaches for my hand and pulls me into the kitchen with her, so Sydney can pass by. “Drew and I were just on our way to the diner for some breakfast, have time to join us?”
Sydney’s cheeks darken. “Uh, I’m not sure you’d even notice I was there. I’ll just take a raincheck. Besides…” She looks pointedly between the two of us. “I think you might have some unfinished business.”
When I glance to Abby, I almost groan. She’s chewing on that damn lip again. But I force my attention to stay on Sydney. “You’re more than welcome. I’m sure we can manage to behave if you’d like to join us.” This causes Abby’s face to blush for the first time since I arrived.
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Please come.”
Sydney grumbles something under her breath I don’t quite catch, but I could swear it was, “I don’t think I’ll be the only one coming…” Then she clears her throat and continues, “Thanks for th
e offer, but I’ve gotta pass.” With that, she grabs her backpack next to the couch and says, “I’ll see you later.” Nabbing her keys from the hook on the wall, Sydney exits the apartment like a bat out of hell.
Sydney doesn’t seem like the type who gets shocked easily, so I ask, “Did we make her uncomfortable?”
Abby rolls her eyes. “Please… I’m sure she’s seen a lot worse by working at the bar. Let me get my things, and we’ll grab some food. I’m starving.”
As Abby and I settle into a corner booth at my favorite diner, I reach out and hold her hand in mine across the table. I won’t bother denying it took us longer to leave her apartment because I can’t keep my hands, or lips for that matter, off her. I’m not sure what’s come over me, maybe I’m just trying to make up for lost time, but now that she’ll let me kiss her, I don’t want to stop.
Vanessa, my usual waitress, leaves menus for us to peruse. After my strenuous workout this morning, I feel like I could eat half the menu and still be hungry. I settle on a large stack of pancakes, eggs, and sausage links, while Abby orders French toast and bacon.
When Vanessa leaves, it hits me that I might’ve hijacked Abby’s day. I force myself to ask, “Did you have anything other than bowling planned for today?”
She looks to the sky as if she’s contemplating. Crap. Maybe I did overstep things. But when she says, “Other than laundry, no,” my heart soars.
“So…” I drag out. “You won’t mind me hanging around?”
When she reaches out and pats me on the forearm playfully, my heart skips a beat. “No. I rather like your plans so far.”
While we wait for our food, I find myself fascinated with every nuance about Abby. The way her hair curls at the ends when it’s wet. The way she bites on her lower lip when she’s thinking, and the way she glances at me when she thinks I’m not looking, sends my body into hyperdrive. Add the fact that I can finally touch her, and I think I might be in heaven.
I don’t know what kind of spell she’s put on me, but my need to touch her every chance I get is all-consuming. Whether it’s to brush a wayward lock of hair from her face, to reach for her fingers from across the booth, or to press my long legs against hers under the table. I don’t think a minute goes by where I’m not touching her in one form or another.
My pulse races, and my pride soars now that I finally know she likes me, too. Her smile’s infectious as her cheeks occasionally turn a beautiful shade of pink when I take her by surprise by reaching out to touch her or hold her gaze.
Once the food arrives, there’s little room for conversation. We’re both ravenous and devour what’s on our plates. Note to self—drinking makes Abby hungry.
When she’s nearly finished half her plate, she finally makes eye contact. She suddenly bites on her lower lip, and I stop eating to see what’s the matter.
“Everything okay?” I ask as soon as my mouth is empty.
“I’m just… well… I didn’t realize I was that hungry,” she whispers.
I chuckle and try to make light of it. “Well… drinking has a tendency to do that to you.”
“I didn’t drink that much,” she protests.
Shaking my head, I clarify, “I was joking—albeit a bad joke. Sorry, Angel, I wasn’t implying anything.”
Her eyes soften, and a smile forms as she reaches out to take my hand across the table. She squeezes my hand as she says, “I didn’t take it that way. I’m not one to party. You’ve actually been with me both times I’ve been out.”
Just remembering her birthday makes my body come alive. It’s the day Abby became my Angel. If I hadn’t bulldozed my way into taking her to dinner, I wouldn’t be here right now in this moment. “It’s not like I go out often either, Angel. Though I’d like to be a part of your future… If you’ll let me.”
Abby lowers her chin and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. She takes in a deep breath, and I hear her slowly release it. I carefully watch her as she gives her sole attention to the tabletop. It’s almost as if she’s trying to process my meaning.
Didn’t I make my feelings clear?
I replay my words in my mind, to ensure I didn’t come off as a pretentious ass.
Shit. Did I misread her and make the wrong assumptions?
Relief washes over me when she peers out from under her dark lashes, and her golden-brown eyes pin me in place. A slight smile forms on her beautiful pink lips, and my breath catches in my chest. “I think that can be arranged.”
Thank fuck.
“Good,” I say before I can stop myself or use a filter. “I have a lot more plans in mind for you.”
Her perfectly manicured brow lifts in disbelief. “And just what type of plans to you have in mind, Drew?”
Not wanting to get ahead of myself, I simply smirk and playfully tease, “Some things are better left unsaid. I wouldn’t want to give my entire game away.”
This earns me an eye roll and a smirk. She’s fucking adorable. “So… this is just a game to you… I see.”
I shake my head emphatically, making sure she completely understands. “No. It’s not a game at all.”
21
Abby
When Drew reaches out and squeezes my hand once more, he draws my attention back to him. The look in his dark-blue eyes tells me he isn’t playing a game. The zing of electricity that travels from the base of my neck to the tips of my toes makes me want to at least see where this goes.
To sound unaffected by the beautiful man before me, I flippantly state, “Good. I’m not into games either.” Then I add a bit more of a truth, “Besides, I don’t play games I can’t win.”
This makes Drew’s perfect lips twitch, and my pulse race. “Oh, Angel. You have no idea.”
Before either of us can say anything further, Vanessa interrupts us, “Is there anything else I can get the two of you?”
Drew looks to me, and I shake my head. My eyes were way bigger than my stomach, and there’s no way I can eat another bite. But instead of answering for myself, he simply states, “No. I think we’re good here. Thanks.”
Vanessa gives each of us a friendly smile. “Great. I’ll be right back with your check.”
“Why don’t we hit the bowling alley early? It should be open any time,” Drew suggests when she leaves. “I have to tell you, Angel, I don’t think I’ve bowled since I was a kid.” His expression turns doubtful, and I almost laugh aloud.
Holy hell, is Drew nervous? No. I must be mistaken. I cock my head to the side to study his features. “Is this your way of telling me you suck at something?” I tease. The man seems to do everything with ease. Surely, he can throw a ball down the lane and knock a few pins down.
“Just keeping it real.” He rolls his eyes as a low chuckle escapes. “I’m sure it’ll be entertaining, to say the least,” he says with a shrug.
This will be good. I highly doubt the most competitive guy on the planet doesn’t know how to bowl. “Don’t worry, if it gets too bad, we can put bumpers on the lanes,” I offer as a joke—but also as a way out. I haven’t bowled in ages, either.
Drew may be a D-1 baller, but he most definitely isn’t a bowler. If there is an A for effort, the man would be raking in the points, but knocking pins down? Nope. He’s not doing well.
“I swear there must be glue on the bottom of the pins,” he grumbles when he bowls yet another split and only knocks down four pins. We’re only in the middle of our fourth frame, but already I can tell bowling’s not his sport.
I’d like to offer him advice, but I’m not doing much better. I get lucky and hit a strike in the first frame and pick up a spare nearly every frame since, so my score is considerably higher, but I can’t say I have actual skill. The poor guy is averaging six to eight pins a frame. A couple of times, he throws a wicked curve ball, but it only ended up in the gutter.
At least he’s a good sport and celebrates with me when I do well. When I get another strike, he stands and wraps me in a hug. “Congratulations, Angel,” he whisp
ers in my ear, and my body tingles with desire as he sets me on my feet.
“If you’re gonna celebrate like that, you’re only encouraging me to do it again,” I tease.
Drew’s blue eyes darken as a smile spreads across his face, making my belly flop. Damn, he’s sexy. “Maybe your talents will rub off on me, and you can be my good-luck charm.”
Once the pins reset themselves, Drew walks to the ball return and picks up his ball. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, and I can’t help but check out his ass. His jeans are sexy. It’s almost as if they were tailor made to fit him. They stretch over his muscles perfectly. Maybe he should model for that brand. Women everywhere would be purchasing that brand in hopes their spouses would look that good. My mouth goes dry, just watching his every move.
I’m so focused on his perfect form, I barely notice Drew finally rolls a strike. The moment all the pins go down, Drew spins around like a kid who’s just been told he’s going to Disneyland and pumps a fist in the air. “Yes!” His smile is infectious, and my heart soars with excitement for him.
In three fluid steps, he’s standing in front of me. His long arms wrap me into a hug and lifts me as he spins me around. “It’s about damn time.” He chuckles in my ear. “Maybe you are my good luck charm.”
When he sets me down, I shake my head as I roll my eyes. Me? A good-luck charm? Yeah, right.
“Uh… I highly doubt that. If I were, you would’ve been doing that all day. Don’t you know, you make your own luck, silly,” I tease.
But the way he stares into my eyes makes me wonder if he believes in good-luck charms. I mean… I’ve heard of athletes being superstitious. But I had nothing to do with him rolling that strike.
Drew looks like he’s about to say something but decides against it. He shakes his head slowly, then pats me on the ass, like you would a teammate. “You’re up, Angel.” I have no clue how to take that, so I do the only thing I can.
Drew: Book One of the Perfectly Independent Series Page 16
