He glanced upwards, blinking lights flashed in front of his eyes. His heart leapt into his throat, his stomach churned with the remnants of his dinner. Then a vision appeared before him in the door. Hell, maybe he was just hallucinating after all. And just as he called her name, he fell to the floor on his face, his world blackening away to nothingness.
* * *
A soft, cool compress, warm hands brushing the matted curls from his head—hell yeah, now this was a dream he could get used to. Soft whispers and the scent of warm cinnamon covered his mouth and nose as her voice settled over him. Holy shit. He was in dessert heaven here.
“Hey, David, please open your eyes. I need to get you home, okay? We’ve got to get your pills…”
Since when did she talk in his dreams? God though, her voice was as soft and as sweet as the last time they’d been together. Three months. Two long, agonizing months since he’d touched her last—since he’d left his heart with her for good. Fate was being a motherfucker if it was going to continue teasing him like this.
“Seriously, wake up, please.” He blinked. An instant burning sensation rocketed through his skull. Fucking hell, he wasn’t dreaming, he was dying, right there in the arms of an angel. He grinned, wincing too as the pain crept back into his skull. It was okay though, because he was going to die one hell of a happy guy.
“Abigail,” he sighed, unable to stop his hand from reaching for her neck. He felt her shiver as his fingertips traced her collar bone. His eyes were still blurry, but he could just barely make out her pale skin, her wet, bright blue eyes. Stunning…absolutely stunning. He stiffened, wincing more as he fully focused upon her face. Shit, why was she crying? He hated when she cried. “Don’t cry,” he croaked out, finally seeing her perfect face. She pressed her palms to his cheeks and squeezed. The cool wet rag still sat in her hand, and water dripped like tiny pebbles down onto his neck.
“Well you dumbass, when you fall on your face in the middle of the room between the skank ho twins, I kind of have a reason to cry. You scared the crap out of me.”
He grinned, loving her jealousy. It meant she was still as crazy about him as he was her—even though he knew, without a doubt, that she was way better off without him. “Skank ho twins, huh?” He laughed, reaching up to grip her hands with his own. He pulled them against his chest, pressing her palms over the steady beat of his heart. She narrowed her eyes, but her lips quirked into a smile that had his entire body thrumming. “You know I don’t like to garden, Abs. I’m more of a meat and potato kind of guy,” he winked, smiling as she giggled. It was the sound of deliciousness. The sound of all things perfect.
“Come on, super stud; let’s get you home, okay?” Her face turned serious, and she brushed a piece of his hair from his temple. She bit her lip… Was that sudden longing appearing behind her blue–grey eyes? God he hoped he wasn’t just imagining it, experiencing it alone here.
He held her stare, needing her to lower her mouth, needing to feel her lips just one more time. He’d spent one night with those lips, but he should have known that one night would never be enough. Maybe, just this one more time was all he needed, right? Then he’d never ask for anything, ever again. “Abigail…” he whispered longingly, stroking her fingers with his. She blinked and a sudden knowledge appeared throughout her face. Her mouth formed a tiny O, and her face darkened to a red that matched her lips. She was his untouchable perfection, and the only girl who would ever make his heart beat like it was again.
“Don’t, David…” she sighed, closing her eyes just as one last random tear dripped from her left lid. His throat constricted at the sight. Okay, he was officially the biggest son of a bitch. Ever.
He finally gained enough balance to push away from her warmth, just as a rush of blood raced to his face. The dizziness grabbed at his vision, but he pushed through it because he had to get up, he had to go. “I’ve got to find my ride. What time is it?” He scooted off her lap, noting the hot pink, sweater dress barely covering her firm, toned thighs. He wanted to rub his hands over them, the sight of their smoothness teased his fingertips and he instantly groaned, looking away to find his crutches.
“Be careful,” she whispered, standing up herself. She reached down to grab his arms, most likely to help him up, but he nudged her away. Not hard, but enough to let her know that the touching thing was off limits again. “Don’t be stubborn, David. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah right,” he snorted, eyes burning, head still pulsating in his temples. She was right on one aspect. He needed those damn pills still. Badly.
He made it to his feet, swaying slightly to the side, just as she reached out a hand to steady him. Her brows drifted together, her lips were pursed to kill. All sass and spice, the girl was straight up sex in a sweater dress. “And what is that supposed to mean?” She stood with her hands at her hips. David narrowed his eyes as the V in her neckline dipped lower. He traced the edge with his gaze, wishing it was his fingers instead.
“It just means that you’re trying to mess with my head.”
She scoffed, pressing her hand just over the dip of that crack he wanted to keep ogling. Damn, that was twice now in two seconds that he imagined touching that very spot. This time though, he wasn’t about to use his hands… He sucked in a gasp and released a quiet groan at the thought. Yeah, he was in a shit ton of trouble with this girl. But really though, what was new? Slipping his crutches under his arms, he tightened his grip around the handles to keep his fingers from reaching out for her.
“Messing with your head? You call trying to get your ass up and out of here and home, messing with your head? You’re delusional, David.” She pursed her lips, and turned, stomping away as she left. He shut his eyes, needing to keep himself steady, but needing to go after her even more.
“Shit, Abigail, wait up! I’m sorry… I’m always screwing up,” which was the main reason why he’d stayed away in the first place.
“Yeah, you’ve got that right,” she stood in the doorway of the room, with her back to him, shaking her head. She didn’t turn around, but he could tell she was pissed all the same. Her body was rigid, angry. He didn’t need to see her face to know that. Abigail had always been a body language kind of girl.
He sighed, this was good, and for the best too. When she was pissed at him, it made the whole staying away thing that much easier. Although easy was a far cry from the truth of what he wanted to do. “Come on,” she groaned, “I’m taking you home now,” she glanced back over her shoulder at him, just briefly, “or do I need to call your mom instead…?”
He narrowed his eyes at her profile. Damn, the girl played dirty still, didn’t she? “No. No Mom. Just…let’s go,” he shook his head, “I don’t want to—”
“Yeah, yeah draw attention to yourself. I got it.” She waved a hand through the air, turning away again. David’s shoulders slumped, and he groaned under his breath. Hell yeah she did. There was nobody else who got it better than she did, and that’s what sucked the most.
Chapter Six
It was after nine when Abigail had left to go to the party. Her mom was already in bed, while her dad was working in his office. She hadn’t even bothered saying goodbye to either of them. Nobody would have noticed anyways, so what was the point in wasting the extra words and breaths?
The house where the party was taking place had been jam–packed with barely any room to walk, let alone mingle. She’d managed to grab a bottle of water before heading to find her position for the night, gulping it down in little time. She was in her element here—with people—it’s what she did best; what she always enjoyed. But the moment she found the room with the two dirty skanks surrounding a face planting David, she knew that her night of intended socialization had just turned into a night of insanity instead.
But it wasn’t the girls that worried her, or the part about seeing David either. It was his passing out and mini seizure thing that had her freaking. His face had been white, his eyes half–opened and his mouth c
lenched shut as his body shuddered in a back and forth motion on the carpet. In that moment she knew, without a doubt, that he hadn’t been taking his meds; the meds that only his mom, dad, and she knew about.
His accident had not only caused his amputation, but it had also caused some long–term brain and skull damage as well. It wasn’t anything major—according to Mrs. A, that is—but it was enough of an issue that the doctors required him to go on meds for several years afterwards to help with the migraines and seizures. She’d only just recently found this out, but it was still hard to take and even harder to fathom that after all this time, he was suffering continuing effects from that horrid accident.
The hardest part about the whole situation was not being able to tell Harley about the head issues her brother was dealing with, especially since she was his twin and they were so close. But Abigail had sworn up and down on her grandfather’s grave that the secret was theirs to keep. David didn’t want to worry Harley more than she already did. It just reaffirmed what she already knew: David was one hell of a standup guy. And that idea added fuel to the fire, making her love him even more than she already did.
She’d immediately gone into healing–nurse mode when she saw him lying there, pushing tramp–alicious one and two out of her way so she could get to his side. They obliged, looking all too freaked out when she demanded one or both of them to get her a cold rag. They’d done what she’d told them to do and then thankfully scooted their denim asses out of there, taking the crowd of onlookers that had started to hover with them. David would have freaked the hell out if all those people had been around when he’d awakened.
It scared her seeing him like that though—terrified was a better word for it actually. The last thing she’d wanted was to meet up with him again in that sort of way. She’d had all sorts of awesome reuniting visions going on in her loony brain, but in all of her dreams, both awake and asleep, this was not the way she pictured them back together again after a two month long hiatus.
She would have preferred keeping his head in her lap all night, just so she could tangle her fingers in his dark curls. But she also knew how adamant he was about keeping a distance from her. He’d said that before though, and then their relationship had changed for good.
But as she drove him home, the silence between them consumed her completely. She didn’t know if she should talk, or cry, or scream. This thing between them was tearing her into tiny bits of emotional shrapnel, delving so deep into her skin that she couldn’t possibly dig it out if she tried. She wanted their old relationship back. The one that hadn’t been messed up by one night of kick–ass, too–good–to–ever–pass–up sex.
That night had been the best of her life. But it had obviously been her worst mistake, too, because now, he would barely even look at her, let alone speak to her.
“So,” he finally cleared his throat, leaning his head against the window. The dark shadows of the car covered his cheeks, but the outline of his sculpted jaw was just as perfect as ever, as the lights from the dashboard reflected against his face. He was so beautiful, even in the dark. And guys were never beautiful to her—hot, sexy, sinful—but nobody took the title of beautiful like David did. “Have you talked to Harley lately?”
She smiled. Safe subjects were good. She could deal with safe. Anything beyond that was off limits. “Um, not for a week or so, but I am going out there over Labor Day weekend,” she shrugged, flipping on her blinker as she turned the car down his street.
“You’re what?” He sat up straight, the air in the car practically extinguished as he snarled, “Why? Why do you need to go out there? There’s nothing there for you. California is a vast wasteland full of surfer guys who use and abuse their women!”
Her jaw fell open as she glanced quickly again at his stiff frame. No. No way was he going to play the jealous card on her. “Well maybe I want to be corrupted,” she nibbled on her lip. This wasn’t the perfect time to tease him, and she knew she was stirring a pot of bullshit and she had no idea why she was doing it. But his jealous side was an emotion she secretly appreciated, and she’d definitely continue to play off it if it got a rise out of him.
“You…what…I mean…” he shook his head. “Seriously, Abigail…after everything my sister went through with that…that…guy? You really think that’s the place you need to go to find a good screw?”
She gritted her teeth. Jesus, he was going to play hardball, wasn’t he? But instead of pitching him slow balls, she’d ignore his digs and handle it like a major leaguer. “Yes I’m as serious as a heart attack, David. Besides that, Harley has never been happier. You know this as much as I do.” She shrugged one of her shoulders, pulling her lips between her teeth to keep from smiling. Oh boy how she loved getting under his skin.
“You just…I mean…” he groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. “Have you ever even flown in an airplane by yourself?”
She nodded, pulling into the driveway. He was struggling for words and she’d never heard anything more adorable in her life. “Um, yeah, I have. What do you care anyways?”
He growled, “I care, because I worry about you. And because I love…”
Her arms stiffened. No. He wouldn’t… She held her breath, waiting. But he didn’t finish, and somehow or another she’d managed to make it to his driveway without losing her head in a spinning frenzy. What the hell? No way, he did not almost just tell her that he loved her. She had to have been too tired, or losing her hearing, right?
“Never mind,” he finally spat, already reaching around for the crutches in the back seat. His face was lit by the interior lights, and she’d never seen it look harder, and more pissed off. She swallowed a huge, disappointed lump in her throat. Of course he wouldn’t have said it. What was she thinking?
One thing was for sure though, they could absolutely not go another two months without talking or seeing each other. More importantly she knew they couldn’t end the night like this. Her chest ached, and her eyes watered already. But she wouldn’t let the tears pool up just yet.
“Thanks for the—”
“David I—”
“No,” he stopped, turning to face her full on. “I don’t need any excuses from you.” His voice softened. He sounded so tired, like he could barely form the words to speak anymore. “Do what you want, Abigail, I’m not your keeper and you obviously want to visit my sister, so…” He paused, his face paling even more as he pinched the bridge of his nose. His other hand was outstretched, already reaching for the door handle, his crutches hung over his shoulder.
“Hey,” she swallowed. Her voice was soft as she reached for his forearm. He froze, staring down at her hand with expression–filled, heavenly brown eyes that she could still envision darkening as they’d made love. She shook her head. Not the time to think about that, Abigail… “Are you going to be okay?”
She swallowed hard, watching as he blinked over at her, refocusing again. His sinfully long lashes sheltered the innocence in his gaze that she so longed to dig out again. But there was another emotion he held in there too…an emotion that shook her core, to the point of no return. And if she could have frozen her insides to keep her body from combusting, she probably would have. Because right there, in his perfect, flawed gaze, she saw love—simple, but powerful love that mirrored hers completely.
Jesus…why was he doing this? Didn’t he know that her heart would always and forever belong to him? Why did he always fight what was so real and ready to be consumed? She gulped. Their eyes never wavered, simmering as one in the small space of the car. The temperature was about a zillion degrees in there, and her body was on fire with both her need for him, and hatred towards the fact that he was still pushing her away. And just as she opened her mouth to tell him not to go, to tell him she couldn’t live without him anymore, and to berate him for staying away for so long as it was, he was looking away, closing off from her once again. And then he was opening the door, throwing his crutches onto the ground, only to stand with
his back to her. Dammit. He was leaving her. He was always walking away. Why…why? She didn’t care how many legs he had. She didn’t care if he had a messed up brain either. She loved him for who he was, for the guy that she knew he always would be.
She reached for the door handle, wanting nothing more than to cry after him. Scream at him. She wanted to throw something, and then race after him and kiss the hell out of his perfect mouth. But she also loved him enough to respect his wishes, too. So for now, she’d continue to bide her time.
He slammed the door in her face, no goodbyes, no thank you. Nothing. She watched him as he slowly made his way toward his front door, just barely making out the sight of his arms shaking at his sides. He was slower than she’d remembered him being, and fear gripped her chest as she studied his upper frame. It was more than obvious he was hurting still. Sure, he’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want her help, or her sympathy, but damn if her instincts weren’t screaming at her to do something about it anyways.
She dropped her hand onto the steering wheel, clenching her fingers around the leather. Her jaw locked as she turned to focus on the darkened road in front of her. She was pissed, aching with need, and now, more than ever, ready to take her ass to California.
But then again, running wasn’t about to solve anything.
Chapter Seven
The tires screeched on the runway as her plane touched down, and Abigail cringed wishing now, more than ever, that she could have slipped something brown and liquid into her water bottle just to ease the tension grinding away at her nerves. She gripped the armrest, pushing back in her seat as she squeezed her eyes shut. She was completely frayed—relaxing was not an option, because Abigail and flying did not mix, even though she’d done it many times. Well, really, it was mainly the whole landing and taking off part that sucked giant monkey nuts, but the whole flying through the air thing?—that was at least doable…unless of course you threw in some wicked turbulence. Either way, she hated it.
A Long Time Coming Page 5
