A Long Time Coming (12 page)

He shook his head, tucking his
face into his palms, rubbing away the imaginary thoughts running freely in his
head. The sun burned down on his neck from behind, torturing him, but also
telling him that with the happiness he so desired, came the inevitable pain of
never being the man Abigail deserved.

An hour or so passed, and
David glanced down at his cell, checking the time. They had to go out tonight;
to an actual place, where real people his own age hung out. Shit. He wasn’t
looking forward to it. Not just because of the stares he’d get when he’d hobble
in on his plastic leg, or the fact that he really hated being anywhere near
alcohol and stupid people. But because of the girl he’d have to sit by and
watch shamelessly flirt with every douchebag who approached her.

“Dude…you ready to get out of
here? I’m sure the girls are back, probably burning our dinner as we speak.”
Mason approached from the side, only half laughing as he shook his hair out
like a dog and slipped his shirt over his head.

“Yeah, guess so…” Truthfully,
David didn’t want to go. This place was awesome—a little too
thought–provoking—but awesome. He blinked, staring out over the water, watching
the few surfers left out there braving the late afternoon tide.

“Hey, um, could you not say
anything to Harley about what I told you earlier today, you know, about the
whole getting married stuff? I don’t want her to know that I’m upset about her
rejection.”

David nodded once, staring at
Mason’s profile as he looked down at his bare feet. It was more than obvious
that he was stressing about this thing with Harley more than he let on. David
wasn’t okay with the marriage thing, but to know that Mason was taking this as
hard as he was really irked him, especially since he didn’t
want
to feel
bad for him. But it was kind of too late for that, and he sort of already did.
He was obviously hopelessly in love with Harley, but rushing into a marriage,
or a proposal, even when it felt so right, would probably end badly.

“I won’t, Mason. Don’t worry.”
David arose, standing next to him, hovering at least a foot over his frame. He
smacked him along his back in a brotherly manner, and Mason gave him a nod in
response, still unable to bring his gaze to level with David’s.

“Now, if only we could make
sure you get the best friend, right?”

David choked, straining to
breathe as he glared down at Mason’s all–too–smug face. He curled his lip,
snarling at the guy. Damn him for being such a sneaky punk. Never, in all of
David’s life, had a guy turned their own crappy situation into crap for someone
else like Mason did.

“Knock that shit off. I’m not
going to
get
anyone. I love the girl, but I’m not the
man
who
deserves to be loved by someone like her.” Mason shook his head and sighed,
before they started back towards the car.

“Listen,” voice lowering,
turning too serious for his surfer boy caliber status, “I’m not really the
poster child for deserving love. If you remember right, I freaking let my dad
die on a beach without doing anything to help him. And then I ended up leaving
Harley when she needed me the most. If that doesn’t constitute not deserving
real love, then I don’t know what else does.”

His eyes turned dark, like his
skeletons were beating their way to the surface. Mason was supposed to be the
tough as shit nineteen–year–old, with a smart–ass attitude, who was ready to
take on the world with his surfboard. He wasn’t this self–loathing shithead
with a major emo mojo thing going on.

“That stuff is in the past
now. My sister forgave you. I’m sure your dad would too. Those were
accidents—things you couldn’t have predicted. You’re not damaged, dude, not
like I am.”

Yanking the door open with a
huff, David tossed his crutch into the back before settling in the passenger
side for the short trip back to the apartment. Mason slipped in too, staring
over at him with a look that clearly spelled disbelief and irritation.

“Dude, you’re not broken.
You’re just damaged,” he started his car and backed out onto the road. “That
outside stuff doesn’t matter anyways. It’s the feelings and the emotional shit
that gets you both laid and in love.” Mason hit the gas, and smirked. The guy
was a freaky, poetic pissant.

The windows were down, the sun
roof was open. David couldn’t hear much, but what he did hear both irked him
and made sense at the same time. “It’s actually pretty cool to have a guy to
hang with that isn’t living and breathing surfing, you know? I mean, don’t get
me wrong, I have a tendency to do that very thing myself, but now that I have
my Little Beast, I don’t get pissed if I miss a day on the waves anymore.” He
grinned, rambling on as he punched the gas and headed down the road. David
shook his head, but he snorted at the same time. This guy was fucking nuts.
“But what I’m trying to say, without seeming like a complete douchebag pussy
here, is that you’re a whole hell of a lot cooler than I first thought.
Especially when you’re not kicking my ass…”

Jesus, this guy was teetering
on a line of coolness and annoying at the same time. “Guess that’s something.”

“Yeah, it is. But now all
you’ve
got to do is stop being such a wussy when it comes to Abigail. From what I
understand, this crap between the two of you has been going on for way too long,”
he shifted gears, the sound of the wind rushed through the car, eliminating the
late afternoon heat with the gusting of the cool, ocean breeze from their
right. “So do your sister and Abigail both a favor here, and quit fucking
feeling sorry for yourself. Go home and get your girl, because I can tell you
right now that she won’t wait around forever.”

David paused. This guy was
blunt, no doubt. In fact, there was nobody in the world, besides his sister,
who could tell it how it was like Mason Daniel could. And for once, maybe,
David thought about taking the guy’s advice…even if it was only for tonight.

A knock sounded at the bedroom
door. Abigail wrapped her towel around her chest tightly, tripping her way over
David’s bags as she reached for the knob. And there, with eyes as red as hell
itself, stood Harley.

“Oh honey, what happened?”
Abigail crooned, wrapping her friend in an immediate hug. She pulled her
through the threshold towards the bed. Dammit, if Mason had screwed with her more,
then she was going to flip her shit completely.

Abigail’s sopping wet hair
dripped down her shoulders and onto her arms, but the dampness was nothing
compared to the tears falling from her best friend’s eyes. “He asked me again.
I thought we had it settled. I told him I wanted to wait…but he had to go and
bring it up once more. Now things are weird between us, and he won’t say hardly
a word to me. I’m so scared that I screwed it up again! What do I do? I love
him and I
do
want to marry him… just not yet. Not at nineteen.”

Gasping, Abigail pulled back
and pressed her fingers against her lips. “Um…what did you say?” She swallowed
heavily, feeling her throat tighten as she did.

Marriage… Harley and Mason…
No…no–no–no. This couldn’t be for real. Harley’s shoulders fell, and she
plopped her head back on the pillow. Abigail turned over onto her stomach and
fell with her. Apparently
she
wasn’t the only one holding back secrets
after all.

She reached over and brushed
one of her best friend’s curls from her drenched cheeks.

“God, Abigail, this is so
messed up,” she threw her arm over her forehead. “And I’m so sorry. I was going
to tell you and all…tonight too. But I didn’t want to upset you with all of
my
crap, when you’ve got so much going on yourself.” Abigail smiled sadly. That
was Harley; always worried about everyone else.

“Okay, fine, he asked you to
get married, no biggie. I’m not pissed you didn’t tell me, Harley. I’m worried
because I don’t like seeing you so sad.”

“I mean…ugh, I dunno. I’m
happy in this weird, messed up sort of way. But at the same time…” she
shrugged, moving her arms down to her side again.

“Hold that thought. Lemme get
some clothes on, and then I want to hear it all from the beginning.” Harley
nodded, smiling through her tears.

Abigail took a deep breath,
stood, and threw on a pair of sweats, followed by a random black t–shirt that
just so happened to be David’s. Yeah, um, she’d have to change out of that
soon…maybe. But she still couldn’t help but inhale the scent of his bodywash or
cologne, or whatever the hell it was, as she slipped the soft material over her
face.

Stalking back towards the bed,
she plopped onto the mattress, combing through her wet hair as she settled in
next to Harley. “Okay, now, tell me what the hell’s been happening here,
because it’s apparent that life has taken quite a turn for the both of us.”

Giggling, Harley sat up,
sitting cross–legged in front of her. “Okay. So he asked me like, three weeks
ago. It was so freaking romantic too…” Harley sighed, completely swooned over
with her memories, obviously. She crossed her arms over her knees and settled
her chin on her arms. “It was on the beach…with candles, because Mason is the
Candle King you know. We had a surfboard picnic, and he fed me chocolate
freaking ice cream, with chocolate fudge…” she shook her head, looking lost in
a memory, fighting a grin at the same time. “I mean, Jesus…it was every girl’s
dream!” Longing filled her brown eyes, followed by more tears. Damn tears, they
were bitches. “And I told him that I loved him, but I also told him no…because
I wasn’t ready,” she wiped at her tears, and Abigail clenched her hands
together to keep from reaching for her. If she did, then she’d cry too because
seeing her friend so tore up, made her body burn with sadness. “And he seemed
okay with it, agreeing with my reasoning and all. But then just a little bit
ago, like five minutes actually, he started in on me again, wanting me to at
least wear the ring. I told him I didn’t feel right wearing it yet and he flipped
out on me, begging me to wear it so I can at least show that it’s a someday
thing for the two of us.” She bit her lip staring down at her bare left hand.
Mason had a tendency to push and push. It was the best and worst quality about
the guy. “I love him…so, so much, and I know he’s
the one
for me and
all,
but…” Her fingers flexed, and Abigail reached down to hold them
still.

“You’re nineteen, Harley,
you’re not ready. It’s understandable to feel pressured about a commitment like
that. And you shouldn’t feel ashamed for following your heart.”

Her eyes squeezed shut and she
nodded. Abigail’s feet twitched, demanding her to get up, to dart out into the
hall, find the bastard, and tell him to just lay off her best friend. But
too…maybe Mason knew
exactly
what he was doing with his pressuring. He
was already undeniably in love with this girl, and when he wanted something, he
didn’t stop until he got it. Sometimes Harley needed that extra push. But Mason
also needed to respect her wishes. And if she wanted to wait, then she should
be able to do so without feeling guilty about it.

“I think he’s worried about me
leaving him… It’s like, all of a sudden he’s afraid that I’m going to up and
disappear.” Yeah, Mason had an insecurity problem. The boy had lost a lot, and
always pushed to make sure he wouldn’t lose the things he loved again. But
Harley had lost a lot too. Her innocence, her first love… The pair moved at two
different paces in life, and it was about time they met in the middle somehow.

“Well, have you given him any
indication that you were unhappy or something?” She shook her head no, but
there, behind her wet eyes, was a secret. “What are you not telling me, Harley?
I know that look.”

Frowning, Harley rubbed her
hands along the back of her neck. “Okay, well, one of my professors encouraged
me to apply to UCLA for a scholarship—an architectural scholarship. And I was
kind of interested in applying, so I told Mason about it and he didn’t say
anything. Not a congratulations, not a single word or anything. I mean, I
thought he’d be excited for me.” Defeat etched Harley’s lips as she frowned.
And soon, more tears followed, confirming her obvious sorrow.

Abigail’s heart broke, and she
reached for her fully this time, wrapping her in a lose hug. “Harley Ann, do
not do this. Going to UCLA is a fantastic opportunity for you! Mason may be
scared to lose you, but he has no right to hold you back from achieving your
dreams, honey.”

The nerve of that boy; for him
to try and make her feel bad about accomplishing a goal of hers…? Ugh.
Seriously, maybe his pretty face just needed a good smacking. Abigail stood,
anger boiling in her veins, she was about ready to do just that.

Harley reached over and pulled
at Abigail’s arm. “Don’t, Abigail, it’s my problem and I’ll deal with it, okay?
This night isn’t going to be about the bad stuff anyways. We’re going to have
fun, the four of us.” A smile graced Harley’s face. But it was forced,
contrived. Not at all Harley.

Growling, Abigail crossed her
arms. “Fine, okay, but this conversation is
not over. G
ot it
?”
Harley
nodded, standing next to her, but the sadness there in her eyes was as haunting
as ever.

“Okay then,” she took a deep
breath, “it’s time to sexify you for my brother. We gotta make him see that his
baby’s mama is too hot to pass up.”

Hot? Really? Yeah, that’s the
last thing Abigail was anymore. Bloated and puking and dizzy, um, yeah, that
was more like it.

Clad in her favorite lacy,
blue halter top, Abigail followed Harley out of the bedroom fifteen minutes
later. She pressed her sweaty palms against the front of her jeans, and wobbled
down the apartment hallway towards the kitchen in a pair of ridiculously high
black boots. Yeah, she was all about the boots. And the sexy heels too…usually.
But damn, the only thought that passed through her mind as she turned into the
kitchen, was hope. Hope that her preggo hormones hadn’t earned her a one way
face–plant ticket to the ground.

The boys were conversing at
the table, almost to the point of being friendly, which was entirely weird
because David hated Mason’s guts. But all thoughts, including confusion and
curiosity, fled her mind when David’s gaze rose from the table top and settled
on her. Oh…hot damn. The boy was looking beyond smexy in his black t–shirt and
long cargo khaki shorts tonight. His cheeks were adorably flushed from being in
the sun today, and Abigail’s fingers tightened at her sides, wanting nothing
more than to find a home on his skin under that shirt. David had an upper
freaking body to die for.

His eyes were wide, and he
blinked—repeatedly—as he glanced up at her from the table. His lower lip fell
open. His beautiful, brown eyes held heat, and need, and that flame of love she
was burning up with herself. Abigail’s stomach fluttered as she neared him,
unable to pull her gaze away from his perfect, long eyelashes. The things were
sinful as they seemingly danced across his cheekbones. And the icing on her
David cake was when a smile broached his full, kissable lips. Sweet Jesus…those
lips… She wanted to have them all over her skin again.

Get it together Abigail,
you’re a big girl now, you are more than capable of handling this without
thinking with your vagina.

“So…where’s this club
exactly?” David shook his head, averting his gaze back down to his plate as he
questioned Mason. Abigail slipped into the chair next to him, deciding that it
was now or never to get her pursuit started.

“It’s right next to the beach,
in a little strip of shops near the place we hung out today. It’s pretty cool,”
Mason shrugged unenthusiastically, stirring his food around on his plate with
his fork. “I think you guys will like it.”

Frowning, Abigail found Harley’s
gaze, seeing how it was one hundred percent glued to Mason’s face, in that
confused, anguished sort of way. Okay, talk about tension. It was time to break
it—with a machete if she had to—otherwise, this night was going to be wicked
long.

“Sounds cool. I’m excited!”
Abigail added with a too–high pitched, completely unnatural squeal.

It sucked trying to ease
moments when her own nerves were already shattered due to the fact that she was
so enthralled with the scent emanating off of David’s body. And yeah, excited
wasn’t a good word for it anyways. Terrified? Hell yeah! That was it
completely! The thought of going out tonight gnawed at Abigail’s stomach, like
she had these tiny bugs chomping away at her intestines. Or maybe that was just
lunch and the tiny creature forming in her gut reacting. This was not at all
how she wanted her first clubbing experience to go though, and she had to think
fast if she was going to turn this night into a memorable one.

“Well, let’s get this shindig
on the road then, shall we?” Harley’s voice took on a screechy tone too,
suddenly looking brighter than she’d looked all night.

Tipping her head to the side,
Abigail studied her best friend. Um…what was brewing underneath all that curly
hair of hers? Harley stretched over towards Mason, gifting him with a kiss
before standing and heading to the door. Abigail chewed on her lower lip,
knowing exactly what her best friend was doing. Dammit, she was crying again.

“Okay Harley, enough,” Abigail
grabbed at her shoulder, twisting her around to face her at the closet by the
front door a few minutes later. “You can’t let this get to you tonight, okay?
Screw Mason and his pouty–ass ways, if he’s not happy, then you need tell him
to grow some big balls, and lose the puny nuts. I won’t put up with it, and
neither will David.” Abigail pulled her into a fierce hug, and Harley seemingly
let it all go. Big, wet tears soaked Abigail’s halter top, dampening her skin
underneath, “I mean seriously, he’s got to get his shit together or else I’ll get
it together for him, you hear?”

“She hears you, Terminator.”
Mason growled from behind, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be alone with my
girl.”

Turning on her heels, Abigail
pointed a fist out in front of her towards the root of all the problems. “You
hurt her again you jerk face, then you’re gonna be answering to me. Got it?
You’ve been warned…that is all.” She unleashed her words, unaware or caring
about anything else but letting the dip wad have it. “I’m sick of you fucking
with her, Mason.”

“Abigail, it’s fine, okay?
We’ll just meet you and David outside at the elevator.” Harley’s warm hand
found her shoulder, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep her from
wanting to crack the guy’s nuts.

At his name, David slipped
from around the corner, his gaze first concerned then confused when he spotted
the three of them huddled together. “What’s going on here?” Okay, that was her
cue.

Pushing out her chest, Abigail
inched forward, grabbing David’s hand to pull him around towards the door. He
didn’t budge at first, but she was persistent as shit, yanking on his shirt
until he was forced to do as she silently commanded.

“If you’re messing with my
sister again, you douche, I’ll—”

“David, seriously. Let’s. Go.”
Finally, he followed, crutching his way behind Abigail towards the door,
groaning under his breath with every step and click–clack of her heeled boots.