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“Wow,” I say at last. A people pleaser to the bitter end. “That was... quite an evening.”
Abel scoffs. “I knew you’d have room for dessert.”
Despite the swirl of... things happening inside me, I smile. “You were right.”
“I’m always right. About dessert and shithead situationships, at least. What the hell did you see in that guy?”
Abel takes a left. We head into the maritime forest. The darkness here is complete, pressing in on us from every angle.
“Doesn’t matter now, does it? You made it abundantly clear I’m taken.” And if I’m being honest? I’m not all that upset that my “relationship” with Brian has come to an end. Granted, Abel’s epic kiss might have something to do with that. But clearly I didn’t like Brian the way I should have if I wanted a future with him.
Then again, this means I’m back to square one, starting my search for love all over again. Hard not to feel like I’ve wasted everyone’s time.
“He texts you,” Abel says. “Calls you. You tell me. I’ll handle him.”
My heart does this leaping-for-the-heavens thing.I’ll handle him. It’s a Tony Soprano line. I don’t hate it. I really, really don’t hate the idea of having someone in my life to help take care of things. Not, like,take care of thingsas in take out someone’s knees or dissolve dead bodies in bathtubs. But someone to help shoulder life’s burdens. And, yes, show weak-ass boys who’s boss.
Does this mean I’m in my mob wife era now? It does go hand in hand with the villain stuff.
Abel is polite at home. He opens the door for me, lets the dogs out. Pours us both big glasses of ice water in the kitchen.
“I’m beat.” He hands one to me. “Gonna head up to bed. Help yourself to the TV if you want.”
All traces of the black-eyed beast are gone.
So this is how we’re going to play it. Like the kiss was such a non-event it might as well have never happened.
Part of me is jealous Abel can switch gears so easily. Hesips his water, squats to ruffle Tai’s ears. Clearly not the hot, confused mess I am right now.
That hurts too, knowing he’s unaffected by a kiss I’ll probably recall on my deathbed as one of the moments I was most glad to be alive.
I drain my water and wonder silently when—if—I’ll catch a break. It’s like this cloud hanging over my head, a curse of unrelenting bouts of unrequited love. Lust. Whatever.
“I’ll head up too,” I say. “Big day tomorrow.” Maren’s C-section is scheduled for late morning, and they’ll be able to welcome visitors a couple hours after that, which means I need to be on the ferry and headed for the hospital in Wilmington by ten thirty. Eleven at the latest. Only family is allowed to visit, so Abel will stay behind.
I follow him upstairs. “Get some rest,” he says, then disappears into the studio.
Cher and Tai curl up on the rug in front of my vanity in the primary bath. They refuse to move, so I have to step over them to wash my face and brush my teeth. The whir of my electric toothbrush echoes across the tiled expanse of the room.
It’s all so normal.Nice. Getting to bed early. Putting on clean pajamas.
What’s not nice? The fact that I really did soak through my underwear. I have to take them off. I’m going commando now, and when the seam of my pajama pants pulls taut against me as I climb into bed, I see stars.
I’m still very, very turned on. Despite Abel’s return to lukewarm normalcy.
Getting off while thinking about his mouth on mine is asking for trouble. I already masturbated once today, before I showered. And the unrequited love thing—I have a hand in that. I’m at fault for continuing to pine after men who don’t want me.
But then I’m thinking about what Abel said at dinner.If not now, when?
When do I stop being good and start being happy? Or at the very least, satisfied? Because the more I ponder it, the more I’m starting to think they’re mutually exclusive concepts.
I need to get off. Now.
Before I can second guess myself, I grab my vibrator and do exactly that. I draw my orgasm out while thinking about Abel’s hips pinning me to the wall. To the bed. In my fantasy, he’s gentle but not. He’s all the things I want to be, certain and steady and just the right amount of selfish.
My imagination must be burning especially bright tonight, because I imagine I can even hear Abel growl on the other side of the wall.
I come, my hips punching off the bed as the release rockets through me.
