A Long Time Coming

by Heather Van Fleet

  Then those ridiculously annoying, silent tears began to fall all over again. But for the life of her, she couldn’t move her hands away from her side to brush them away. She simply let them drip down—for the boy who she loved and would do anything for.

  She knew it was gone, and she didn’t care one single bit. But seeing the bareness where his lower left leg should have been, for the first time ever, was like a giant sucker punch to her gut. It wasn’t gross, nor was it even all that sad either. He’d lost something that he’d never get back, and it wasn’t just the leg. He’d lost his innocence, his ability to be sixteen again—be that football star he had always wanted to be. Following his dreams was no longer an option. But, selfishly, she knew they could make new dreams—together—just the three of them. Now….if only he’d accept the news of having a baby together when the time came to tell him. A twisting emotional sort of pain wracked her chest at the thought, and she held her hand over her mouth to keep her breathing steady.

  David, one legged and all, would make the most incredible father ever.

  He just didn’t know it yet.

  Her hand, as if it was no longer her own, reached out for him, trembling and shaking in the air as she moved to brush a few straggling curls from his forehead. Sweet God in heaven…one-legged and all, David lying there was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His skin, so flawless for a guy, appeared even smoother with the shadows sneaking over him the way they were. He was so much more than cute though. Hell, if anything, he was the perfect version of tall, dark, and handsome lying peacefully there in that bed. All over again, she felt herself fall for the boy who’d stuck balls of play–doh in her ears when they were six years old; for the boy who’d teased her when she first got glasses; for the boy who laughed when he found her training bra on the floor of Harley’s room and threw it out the window, only to get it stuck in the tree of his front yard.

  He mumbled in his sleep, and her greedy fingers pressed against his cheek this time, taking in the warmth, using it for her strength to continue to stand there and envision what certainly could be if he was finally ready for it. He rolled into her touch, as if he was gravitating towards her in his sleep. She swallowed, tasting the saltiness of her tears as a few spread over her upper lip. Okay, she gave herself a moment—it was time she took it away again…until, that is, she felt the warm breath of a gasp hit her fingertips.

  “Abigail?” His voice was heavy with confusion and sleep. She grinned, loving the sexiness of it even more than his regular one.

  “Hey. I…I was just checking on you,” she swallowed, settling her body onto the bed. His hand landed upon her lap and he gripped her t–shirt within his fingers. “Do you need anything?”…like me for instance?

  “Uh, no, I think I’m good,” he yawned, the sound of his relaxation washed over her and she copied his sleepy noise. “My head feels better though. So, thank you…” his fingers trembled as he pulled her shirt tighter within his grasp.

  Stiffening, she waited for him to pull away, waited for him to realize that his fingers were slowly spreading apart over her stomach. The tips rubbed back and forth over her skin, sending goosebumps dancing onto every exposed spot of her body.

  Dear God…please don’t let him stop.

  The silence of her plea surrounded them as he continued to pull on her hem. Then his other hand found her back and she didn’t miss his tug against her on that side either. She did a mental fist pump, but at the same time wondered if she was losing her sanity as she found herself falling into his suddenly very open arms. This wouldn’t end well. It never did. But she was selfish, and she was going to take whatever she could.

  “A–are you sure?” She held her breath, questioning him with her words as well as her eyes, needing to know if his actions were sincere. Because there was no way she could pull away now without getting broken.

  “I…I don’t know,” he whispered through the dark night, his voice tortured and unsure as he held on to her.

  Her stomach churned violently, and her heartbeat picked up at the unspoken fear in his voice. Jesus…all he had to do was say the word and she’d be there, wherever he wanted her to be. “Yes…? No…? Maybe…? Fuck, Abigail, all I know is that I need you so bad that it’s killing me not to have you in my arms right now. So just…I mean…can we just go with it, for tonight? Please? Then tomorrow, we can figure this thing out between us once and for all.”

  Sweet Jesus, success had never been sweeter than hearing those words fall from his mouth. “Okay,” she smiled through the dark at him, wondering if he could see how happy he made her with that one, single sentence. Her face was a flame of brightness. She’d never been as excited as she was in that second of settling her face against the warmth of his chest, listening to the beat of his rocketing heart against her ear.

  “Okay…” his voice was shaky, but she knew relief when she heard it. She was home in his arms, once and for all.

  * * *

  He didn’t know what the hell to do as she snuggled up against his chest. But he did know that waking up to see her hovering over him at one in the morning was all the encouragement he needed to pull her down into his arms. He was bound and determined to keep her locked up safe there for as long as she’d have him. Pathetic, yeah, but he’d take what he could get. After tonight, seeing how close he could have been to losing her to a creep like the one he’d almost pounded into oblivion, had really put things into perspective.

  Well aware of the bareness of his leg without the prosthetic, David blew out a steady breath of anxiousness. It was something that had to be done. Abigail never once seemed disgusted by the sight, but still, he had to wonder what she thought as he held her against him.

  Rubbing her shoulder as she brushed her tiny fingers over his stomach, he decided it was now…or it’d be never. “Abigail?”

  “Mmm?” He smiled at the soft contentment in her voice. Yeah, she was right where she belonged.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “About?”

  He sucked in a breath, and closed his eyes. “About everything. About shutting you off, about shoving you aside, about…that night…”

  Her fingers stilled as she propped her chin up on his chest to stare up at him through the dark shadows of the night. “Don’t be sorry, David. That night…” her voice cracked, he pulled her against him tighter, finding the bareness of her back under her tiny shirt. Damn, all she had on was a t–shirt and panties—no bra, no shorts. She was crossing a dangerous line, and he didn’t see a caution sign in sight as she hitched her leg up higher on his thigh. He swallowed. Fuck. This wasn’t good. Hot and sexy, and every dude’s fantasy maybe, but not good. Keeping his hands where they belonged was going to be hard—impossibly hard.

  “That night was the absolute best thing that’s ever happened to me, David.”

  Shaking his head, he spoke, feeling the acid of bitterness rise in his throat as he did. “How could you think that? I was an ass the next morning. I blew you off and then didn’t speak to you for two whole months. I avoided you at all costs. And I—”

  “Enough… I took the initiative that night. I came on to you,” she cleared her throat, “I wanted it to happen, for as long as I could remember. There was never a time that I didn’t want you, D.”

  Why did she have to say things like that? She was too good for him. He had no future, no job, nothing. What did she see in him? It was time for a subject change. And as much as his ego grew at her confession, David knew he had to keep the conversation moving forward.

  “Abs?”

  “Mmm?”

  He grinned and shook his head again. Christ, that sleepy sound about did him in, made him want to nuzzle her neck, kiss every inch of her skin. If he worked hard enough, he swore from memory that she almost purred under his hands once before. But instead, he brushed a lock of her blonde hair from her eyes, turning on his side to face her. He settled one hand on her tiny waistline, just at her hip bone, the other one pressed against h
er cheek. Her baby blues were shut, but he knew pure ecstasy when he saw it. Her face was the ultimate example of that emotion as she settled her hands against his chest. Just another few inches and he could have those perfect, pink, kissable lips under his. But it wasn’t time, not yet.

  “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  She lifted her leg higher onto his thigh, pressing every warm spot on her body against his. Fuck…it was amazing a sensible sentence even came out. She was two seconds away from becoming consumed by his mouth and tongue and body if she kept moving those legs like that.

  Her leg stilled at his question though, like she was ready to dart away from his hold. He pulled her in tighter—there was no way she’d get away now. Eyes widening, she stared up at him, fear etched across her face as she blinked. His brows pressed together as he waited for her to respond, but he wasn’t about to pull back his question now. Abigail really needed to share that secret of hers…soon.

  “I…I don’t really know, yet.” She blew out a breath, staring down at his mouth. Hell… Were there tears in her eyes? No. Not again. She was tough as shit—one of things he loved about her. But still, there was no doubt that he caught sight of that glistening wetness in the corners of her lids. And yet again, it was all his fault. “Maybe working full time at the salon…or…or possibly starting up something separate, away from my mom?” She shrugged, averting her eyes to his chest instead of his face. He tipped her chin up with his finger, and sure enough, she was blinking away a tear. He frowned…what was with the water works?

  “How about you?” Her question stole his breath, catching him off guard. Damn…he wasn’t expecting there to be a reciprocal question.

  “Uh…” he had no idea. He took things day by day anymore. But if he had to dream, he was going to go big. “I’d like to coach football.” He shrugged, waiting for her response. He hadn’t told anyone this. Not even Harley. To have a dream meant he’d actually have to do something besides feel sorry for himself and stay locked away in his room. And that was hard…

  Was he ready for that though? He didn’t know. But with Abigail by his side, maybe it would be possible. Still, would she be able to put up with his endless trips to therapy? His constant doctor’s appointments? His headaches, his mood swings? The basic fact of the matter was that he wasn’t good enough for her. But for the first time in two long–ass years, he was ready to try and be good for her.

  “That’s…that’s awesome news.” She grabbed his waist and wrapped her hand tentatively around his back. His words caught in his throat as she settled her body even closer to his. Her warm breath drifted over his neck, stirring up the long, straggling hairs he needed to cut. It was amazing he was even thinking at all. “You can do it. It’s possible. Finish up at school, maybe even go to U of N—be a Husker after all—at least in the stadium as a fan.” She stiffened, “Oh God…that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said. I’m so sorry. I know how much football meant to you. I should have never said—”

  “Stop. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Sort of… “You have no need to be upset. Your enthusiasm is one of the things I love most about you.” His heartbeat tripled, her fingers stiffened against his back. Oh shit. That wasn’t meant to come out. That thought was his…but apparently it was now hers too.

  He couldn’t deny the fact that he was head over heels gone and in love with this girl. Hell, he’d been that way for years! And too, he knew she felt the same way, without a doubt. It was never just about the leg though—or lack thereof he should say. It was the dormant fear of ruining a partnership he’d developed with her. Could two people who’d been friends for so long make it in the end on the relationship front? Because knowing him, he’d fuck it all up for sure.

  “I…I uh…”

  “It’s okay, Abigail, you don’t need to say anything back. I just…” Dammit, why was this so hard?

  “No, David…I get—”

  “Seriously…you don’t have to say a thing.”

  Pulling back away from him, Abigail peered up at him once more. Her face was heavenly. The simple scent of her skin was sweet like flowers, just as he’d remembered. But her sexy little smile said it all. And the best part was that she really didn’t need to say it for him to know what she was feeling.

  Abigail was just as ready to take this to the next level—finally—too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Okay, one more, for each of us. Then we seriously need to get some sleep, or just get up.”

  Giggling like a crazy school girl, Abigail flung the pillow at his head, noting the first speck of light sprinkling through the glass of the small bedroom window. His face morphed into huge grin as he shoveled the last of the chips and cheese into his mouth.

  They’d done it…they’d stayed up all night. Talking, laughing—eating all the junk food in the kitchen. Harley and Mason would kick there asses for sure, but hey, she was hungry. Harley would understand.

  “Fine, you win. Ask me one more.”

  “First kiss…”

  “Can I plead the fifth here?” He mumbled around his chip, a blush creeping up on his cheeks as he settled back against the headboard.

  “Nope…no can do, buddy boy.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I can’t believe you don’t know this already anyways.”

  “Hey, I didn’t stalk you,” …all the time.

  “Fine, whatever. It was Audriana Willis, seventh grade, right outside the school gym after a football game.”

  Eyes widening, Abigail coughed, choking on a chip. “No way… Audriana the girl who got expelled because she got caught sucking off Caine Montgomery in the boys’ locker room our freshman year?”

  Wincing, David ran a hand through his hair. “God, Abigail, it’s not that big of a deal, we were twelve.”

  She grinned, gulping down the last of the water from her bottle. “Well,” she wiped her mouth, moving in closer to settle herself next to him on the bed. “I’d be proud, David, you were probably the last guy to ever just kiss her.”

  It was either her bravado talking, or her sleep deprivation, but at five–thirty in the morning, she was feeling pretty damn giddy with how their night had turned out. This was what she’d missed the most—the two of them just hanging out together.

  “Whatever,” he shoved her shoulder, smiling down with lips that were so perfect it was almost cry–worthy.

  “I’ve gotta pee,” she gave him a lopsided grin that threatened to explode if she wasn’t careful. “When I get back, you can ask me one more, ’k?” She jumped from the bed, heading towards the hallway.

  “Oh, you can bet it’ll be a good one.” He hollered from behind, a smile evident in his voice as he did.

  She giggled at his words, practically skipping down the hall to the bathroom. Harley’s and Mason’s door was open, but neither of them were anywhere to be found. No doubt Mason had dragged her best friend out to hit some waves or something. Harley had said it was kind of their thing on Sunday mornings to go, so there was no reason to be alarmed if they were MIA for a while. She just prayed they’d gotten past their issues from the night before.

  After her bathroom break ended, she meandered towards the kitchen, her stomach actually hungry instead of pukey. Sweet, maybe that was a good sign. She rummaged through the fridge, finding two oranges, ready to be devoured. She had a weird fetish with not peeling with her fingers, hating the way she tasted and smelled the remnants hours after she ate it. She was just sort of odd like that. So she shifted through a drawer, finding a knife to do the job.

  She grinned to herself, staring out the patio window. Damn, she could totally get used to this—not California in general—but staying up late all night with David; just being, snuggling silently. Last night had been exactly what she needed to set the gears in motion. Because if he was finally accepting her…then he’d most definitely be accepting of their baby too; at least…she hoped so.

  “Jesus, Abs, how can you still be hungry?”

  Stumbling at the sound
of David’s voice behind her, Abigail shrieked, just as the knife she was holding, sliced through her finger. “Holyshit–holyshit–holyshit…” The blade fell to the floor, and she scrambled towards the sink, and let the water drench the cut.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” David hopped over on his crutch, coming up behind her.

  “No…it’s not your fault,” she winced, pulling it back from the wet stream, only to watch the blood drip down over her nail. She reached for a paper towel and wrapped it around her finger. “I was in La–La Land, and should’ve been more careful.”

  Hissing, David whipped her around, reaching down to take charge. Her eyes widened as she watched him tighten the towel over her finger even more. “Hold still,” he nodded, all breathy and quiet. He was so serious… He dug through the cupboards, until a box of Band–Aids sat in his hands. He frowned, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated and placed one over her finger in a matter of seconds.

  “There,” he grinned up at her, in all of his big brown–eyed glory, pulling her hand into his. Slowly, he lifted her fingers up towards his mouth, placing a soft, tentative kiss upon the mark, “You’re all better now…”

  Flames of infatuation and love danced their evil jig in her gut as he settled his crutch back under his arm. Her face heated to a degree the California heat could in no way touch, and she bit her lip. She would not get swoony over a finger kiss…she would not…could not. But shit, damn, go to hell—that’s exactly what she just did.

  “Come back to the bedroom…I need to show you something.” She blinked, clearing the blurriness of heat from her vision. Um, yeah, she’d had sex with this guy before, but the intimacy in his eyes, and the softness of his words as he’d kissed her mark, was more seductive than anything she’d ever in her life experienced.

  “Uh, huh…” she swallowed, dazed as she followed him back towards the bedroom, the half peeled oranges now tucked under David’s crutch–free arm.

  The bedroom was disheveled with clothing stacked high around his bag when she walked into the room. She surveyed the area, giggling, “Um, when did a tornado of clothes happen to hit, cuz I really wasn’t gone that long, you know.”