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“Sounds about right,” I tell her.
Raelynn shrugs her shoulders with a sad smile. “I deserved it. What I did was horrible. There’s no excuse. I don’t expect a friendship or anything, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”
She turns to leave the bathroom and I call after her. When she turns back around, there’s cautious hope in her gaze.
“Thank you. It took a lot of courage to talk to me, and I appreciate it.” I’m not going to tell her we’re going to be friends again, even though I can tell that’s what she was hoping for. But I can offer her forgiveness.
She nods her head and leaves.
After a moment of processing what just took place, I return to my table. Holy shit, I can’t believe I stayed so calm and collected. I’m far from being able to completely forgive her, who knows if that’ll ever happen, but letting go isn’t as far-fetched as I thought. It’s time to cue the Disney songs, I guess.
Chapter 14
Jackson
Ihategolf.It’sa waste of time and energy. Being in the unseasonably warm sun all day has exhausted me. Not to mention the three Lynchburg lemonades I drank to try to get through the experience without punching Abigail’s asshole ex in the face. Or telling her dad to put the fucker in his place every time he made some disparaging remark about any and every woman we saw on the green. I swear to Christ, if I have to be around that guy for any length of time ever again, I won’t stop myself from clobbering him after the first rude comment, regardless of who’s around.
After a couple more drinks and a late lunch at the club, I decided taking a cab back to the hotel was the right call. I paid one of the valets to follow me in my car and cab it back to the country club so I would have my car here. I want to take Abigail out for dinner later since she probably needs to unwind after enduring her sister’s bridal luncheon. From what I understand, we’re expected to attend some sort of joint bachelor/bachelorette night out the day after tomorrow, so we can relax tonight and have all day tomorrow to ourselves.
When I get back to our room, Abigail is lying on our bed, napping. Not wanting to disturb her, but not being able to resist being close to her, I quietly toe my shoes off and gingerly lie down next to her. Even with the easy movements, she stirs and turns her sleepy smile in my direction.
“Hey,” she whispers softly. “Have fun?”
I return her smile. “No, but I’m happy to be back here with you. Go back to sleep.” My hand gently moves a tendril of hair away from her face. Abigail closes her eyes and falls back asleep, the smile remaining on her face.
Lying here watching her sleep is the highlight of this afternoon. Who knew I was such a sap. Abigail lets out a very unladylike snore before burrowing herself farther into her pillow. A quiet chuckle escapes me as I remember her staunch denial that she snores. The soft hum of the fan and the peacefulness of lying next to her has my eyelids growing heavy, and soon sleep overtakes me as well.
Feeling a weight across my chest, I slowly make my way back to consciousness. Looking down, I see a long mane of red hair covering it. I smile to myself and tilt my head, taking in the sweet smell of Abigail’s hair. Coconut. This morning in the shower, when I saw the bottle of shampoo she used, I may have taken a deep inhale from the bottle. The coconut scent will be forever linked to Abigail in my mind and this moment when she found comfort in my embrace. She’s asleep, of course, which is probably the only reason she’s this close to me. She was kidding last night about the pillow wall, but still stayed rooted to her side of the bed. My hand finds its way to her hair, and I brush it away from her face, running my fingers through the soft strands. Abigail’s hand grazes against my stomach and I have to bite back a moan. She lifts her head, and her sweet smile greets me.
“Hi,” I say with a smile on my face.
“Hey.” Her voice is rough from sleep, and the sound isn’t making the situation below my waist any easier to handle. Or not handle, as the case may be. She looks at me with soft eyes for a moment before she realizes the position she’s in. Her eyes shutter as she clears her throat and rolls away from me onto her back. I think I liked sleepy Abigail better.
Without mentioning the position we woke up in, I sit up and discreetly adjust my thickening length.
“I made dinner reservations for us tonight if you’re up for it,” I tell her as she swings her legs over the side of the bed.
“Sounds great. Where are we going?”
I asked the bartender at the club for a restaurant that was romantic but didn’t screamtrying to get laid. “Maison Blanche. Our reservations are in an hour. I don’t know anything about it other than it’s French, so I’m assuming they’ll have a decent wine list.” They do, I already checked.
“I love that place. Let me freshen up a bit then we can head over. It’s not too far from here.” She gets up and walks to the bathroom. I scrub a hand down my face, willing this fucking hard-on to stand down.
When Abigail emerges from the bathroom, I’m dressed in a white button-down with a gray jacket and a pair of formfitting slacks. The weather during the day is warm, but once the sun goes down, it gets a bit chilly in the evenings.
“I thought we could walk if it’s close enough,” I suggest.
“Sure, let me just grab a jacket.” She slides on a light blazer-type jacket over her hot-as-hell green dress. It’s the same one she wore this afternoon, and the plunging neckline makes her gorgeous tits look downright delectable. And there goes my dick again.
Clearing my throat, I grab my wallet and head to the door, opening it for her.
“Shall we?” I ask, and she smiles as we head out the door.
We’re immediately seated when we arrive at the restaurant, and I select a red wine that I know Abigail loves. The same one, in fact, that she swiped from my apartment when she stormed out all those months ago.God, that feels like a lifetime ago.
“So, how was golf?” she asks, pretending to choke on the word. Her feelings toward the sport apparently mirror mine.
I roll my eyes. “Exciting as ever,” I reply flatly. “That ex of yours sure is a fucking tool though. What the hell did you ever see in him? I can’t imagine he was much better when you guys were younger.” That’s what confused me the most after meeting Davis. He definitely isn’t the type I could see Abigail tolerating, let alone dating.
