A Long Time Coming (13 page)

They made it as far as the
hall, before he unleashed his rage. “Did you know the dick asked her to marry
him?” Abigail nodded, her face emotionless, wondering where he was going with
this. “I mean, shit, they are so young for that kind of lifelong commitment! If
they went through with it now, then they’d just wind up divorced in two years
anyways,” he ran a hand through his hair, the curls sticking up in all
different wild directions as he pulled his fingers out. “I mean, first it would
be marriage, and then…then it’d be fucking kids…” he shook his head, shivering,
making his way towards the apartment elevator.

He punched the button hard
with his fingertip, over and over. Abigail cringed, hating when he got angry
like this—hating this side of him—but wanting to hug him tight to keep him from
losing complete control. “I mean, shit, can you imagine? Kids, at nineteen?” He
threw his head back, staring at the white ceiling. His eyes shut and he laughed
a humorless laugh. “I guess I should be thankful she’s
not
pregnant,
huh? Jesus…” his eyes widened, appearing terrified. “I mean shit, Abigail, you
don’t think…”

Pressing a trembling hand
against her throat, Abigail stared down at the tile floor. Breathing was
becoming impossible. Dammit. If this was how he felt… No. It’d be different.
It’d be his own kid—it was
their
kid he’d be concerned about. She
nodded, determined not to let this be a sign, even though it surely was.

“She’s not…”
but I am.

A door slammed from behind,
followed by the flip–flop of four feet on the tile. The air was minimal as
Abigail found the strength to look behind her. Eyes red, but a smile on her
face, Harley looked about as put together as Abigail’s mother, after a sex romp
with the Bob the Builder guy.

“You guys ready?” Mason
sighed, all doom and gloom and wretched. His arm was settled at the small of
Harley’s back, but their body language said it all. The two of them were
falling apart… Sign two that this night wasn’t about to go well.

They slipped silently into the
elevator together. Abigail had the sudden urge to stay behind. It was just too
bad her urges were never strong enough to outweigh what was right and wrong in
the end.

     The layout and size of
the nightclub was damn impressive. The first thing that caught David’s eye when
he entered the doors was the giant aquarium that lay beneath the plexiglass
dance floor. Exotic–looking fish that most likely came from the ocean swam
freely underneath, while lights reflected several neon colors under the water.
It was as if the fish were swimming in some sort of psychedelic rainbow pool.

The bar itself had a tropical
feeling, too. The entire counter was built out of an aquarium, just as the
dance floor was. The four bartenders were busy concocting drinks, all dressed
to the hilt in matching lighted shirts. It was corny as hell. But for some
reason, Abigail couldn’t help but watch as they moved around.

Glancing over towards Abigail,
David’s jaw clenched when he saw the awe in her glazed–over blue eyes. She was
focused fully on the pairs of bodies that moved in unison across the dance
floor. Dammit…he should be the one to go out there with her when she was ready
to dance. She belonged in his arms alone—nobody else’s. But again, there was no
point in prolonging the inevitable. She needed to be free of him, free from
their connection that he knew she felt just as powerfully as he did. But still,
another pang of jealously dug deeply into his chest as he watched her inch her
way with his sister towards the action.

He shook his head. Jesus… The
first fucker that touched her would… Oh hell, what was he thinking? Again, he
had absolutely no claim over her. She wasn’t his to stake…even though he’d die
emotionally if she became someone else’s.

He snarled under his breath,
and turned to follow Mason towards a set of tables to sit his ass down and keep
watch. When it came to the sexy blonde he’d been in love with since childhood,
he was so screwed up and there really were no limits as to what he might do if
he followed her out there.

Settling into a chair, his
head instantaneously started to throb, almost in sync with the tempo of the
bass pounding in the speakers that surrounded the bar. Christ. Now was
not
the time to go all–out migraine. Inhaling, he took a deep breath and pressed
his face into his palms. All he needed to do was make it through this night in
one piece. Then he could go back to the apartment and get some sleep. This time
tomorrow he’d be back in his own bed, sleeping miserably under the roof he
dreaded.

Unable to keep his gaze from
her body, David leaned back in his chair, and stared at her backside as she
moved with the pace of the music. She was beautiful, a complete temptress to
his starving body. He swallowed, his throat becoming so dry he couldn’t
possibly keep his mouth wet if he tried. “Fuck me,” he growled under his
breath, unable to sit still. He settled his palms flat against the table top,
his eyes burned from not blinking. But he couldn’t do that very thing, for fear
if his eyes closed, then he’d miss something. And Abigail, dancing out there,
all hips, ass, and sass was a sight he couldn’t stop focusing on for anything.

“Dude, I think you’ve got a
little drool right…there,” Mason flicked at David’s chin with his finger,
laughing. David glared back at him, swatting his hand away with a growl.

His body was hard, every inch
of it, and he was ready to take his frustration out on Mason if he didn’t knock
that shit off. “Hey, you’re no saint either. I saw how you were watching my
sister, and I’m not exactly cool with you undressing her with your eyes, you
shit–face.”

“Sorry,” Mason shrugged, not
looking the least bit sorry actually. He picked up a napkin, only to shred it
into tiny pieces on the table. “It’s just that,” he cleared his throat,
suddenly looking all–out lost, and most definitely like a dude in love, “…she’s
so damn beautiful.” His brows pulled together as he continued his napkin
destruction. With each pull of his fingers, the more pissed off he appeared.

Together, the two of them were
some sorry–ass suckers.

“Hey, she’s my twin sister. I
know how beautiful she is. But Mason, seriously,” he kicked his shin to catch
his full attention. Mason scowled, but the move served its purpose at least,
and his angry gaze leveled with David’s. “Whatever is going on with you two
tonight, you need to fix it. I can’t leave here tomorrow night knowing that the
two of you aren’t going to be copacetic with one another, you hear me?” David
glanced out towards his sister as she danced goofily next to Abigail. Her smile
was wide, and her tears were finally gone. But how long would that last? How
long would she stay that way? He knew from experience, that her happiness could
be robbed from her in a moment’s notice. He loved that girl with every fiber of
his heart and he wasn’t about to let this guy fuck her over again.

The silence of the moment was
soon interrupted as a group of Mason’s buddies joined them at their table.
David shifted in his seat, sizing them all up, one by one. Yeah, they looked
like the types that belonged here—all surfer and tan—what he like to call
California–ized. Unlike David for sure, who had the sunburn from hell going on,
and a headache from hell to keep things interesting.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Mason
hollered over the loud music, high fiving a few of them in the process. One guy
in particular stood out. And damn was he intimidating as shit. Long, straggly
black hair hung over his freaky green eyes—he had that brooding, tortured thing
down even better than David did. He was the type of guy his sister and Abigail
would both drool over. Skater, surfer, tough–ass, all rolled into one six foot
five package.

“Good to see you, Mase. How’ve
you been? I haven’t seen you much at all since the tournament scene and the
accident. You been out on the water at all?”

Mason shrugged, looking a
little broody himself at the mention of his accident. David hadn’t been around
when it happened, obviously, but from what Harley had told him, the recovery of
it all hadn’t been as bad as they’d feared. But he still had a slight limp to
show for it.

“No. Not really. I’ve been
doing some private lessons and stuff, trying to save up a little more money to
open the shop I want down on Ocean Avenue. Nothing major though.”

Another white–headed douche
piped in, like some sort of nosey dick–wad. David wasn’t about to step up—make
his presence known either—but there was something about this pussy he
immediately didn’t like. “You still got that pipe dream, dude?” He laughed,
knocking back the last of his beer. “Man, you know that place is way too much
to handle, especially for someone as washed up as you.” Mason frowned,
unresponsive as the guy chuckled. David glared at his sister’s boyfriend,
surprised as hell when he didn’t respond to the dig. Instead, Mason only
cleared his throat, playing ignorant, before he started talking to his
black–haired friend again about his sister, Maisy.

David’s back went ramrod as he
studied the bozo. He tilted his head to the side, thinking of all the ways he
could lay him out. He was the linebacker from hell during his freshman and
sophomore years of high school, that had been three years ago; but he knew if
he called upon his inner beast, he could easily lay this prick out, one leg and
all.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be a
dick and not introduce you all. This is Harley’s twin brother, David.” Mason
did all the intros a few seconds later, and they were cool, the black–haired
one the most. David soon learned that his name was Jake, but that was about it.
He wasn’t in the mood for social niceties.

“Good to meet you all.” David
responded coldly, hoping to put off the vibe that he was far from interested in
making friends. The douchebag white–haired freak seemed to have a staring
problem though. His gaze was burning holes into David as he stood there. Every
ounce of his body went stiff as he felt the perusal of this freak’s gaze. It
was more than pissing him off. But he kept his mouth shut, forgoing what he
wanted to say in the end.

“Man, who’s that hottie
dancing with your girl, Mase?”

Oh fuck…of all the things the
guy could say, it had to have been that. David’s pulse raced with abandonment.
His fingers tightened, burning his skin as his nails dug marks into his palms.
His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly, and with every comment the fucker
made, his headache only intensified. “…and I mean, shit, they really don’t
breed ’em that good here. That country girl is gonna be in
my
bed
tonight, that’s for damn sure.” A few of his buddies laughed and high fived
him, while David stood, ready to lay him out. Mason stepped between them before
he got fully in the fucker’s face though.

“That there is Abigail,
Harley’s best friend from back in Nebraska. And also, David here’s soon–to–be
girlfriend.”

David snarled, inhaling
through his mouth, blowing it out slowly a second later. Yeah, okay, he didn’t
want to go there—to that label—but if it kept all hands and eyes off of
Abigail, then he’d take on the role in a heartbeat.

“Girlfriend?
Your
girlfriend?”
The tone of the prick’s voice said it all, and David pressed forward, as
Mason’s arm shot out in front of him. This dude needed a meet and greet with
his fist.

Crutch long forgotten, David’s
adrenaline fueled his move with the hatred towards this guy. But the freak
didn’t take his non–verbal hint and his berating continued on. “I mean, isn’t
that a little pathetic, dude? You know…someone like that and someone like
you…?”

He was going to kill the
bastard…

Soft hands caught his
wrists—Abigail’s hand. She was his calm before the storm, and if it had been
anyone else besides her, he would’ve followed through with his internal
fighting words and decked the guy.

“Hey baby…come dance with me?”
Confusion washed over him as he glanced down at her face before blinking.

Baby? What was her ploy here?
Sure her eyes were heated, her face flushed from dancing, but as he glanced
over towards the dick–face once more, he didn’t give it another thought,
realizing that dancing with her would probably be the only thing to keep him
from pummeling this guy. And he really didn’t want to wind up in jail tonight.

Nodding in agreement, David
found his steps slowly inching towards the dance floor—sans his crutch.
“Abigail, hold up…I need my—”

She spun around, nibbling on
her lip grabbing both of his hands as she pulled him slowly along with her. Her
eyes were so focused and shiny that he barely remembered his own name, let
alone what he was about to say.

“No crutches, David.”

They made it to the edge of
the floor, just as the tempo of the music slowed, to that of a seductive,
rhythmic beat. She pulled his hands towards her, and he took that non–verbal
command, wrapping his arms around her waist. His fingers knew just what to do,
settling into the curves of her body right above her perfect ass. Those damn
traitorous body parts had a mind of their own.

“I won’t let you fall…” she
whispered in his ear, running her fingers through the back of his hair like a
vixen who he wanted to steal away forever, only, though, so he could lock her
up with him in the backseat of her car again.

Shit …it wasn’t the fear of
falling that worried him. Oh no…it was the fear of never wanting to let her go
again.

Frozen in place, he couldn’t
find his footing, nor could he feel anything beyond her warm hands as she
rubbed them up and down his neck, and then down his chest, followed by his
stomach. She tucked them under the front of his shirt, running her skillful
little fingers along the lines of his rib cage. Her lip was sucked in between
her teeth and he groaned. Damn her…why did she want him? It would be one thing
if it was one–sided, but this thing between them would never cease until he
told her to stop completely. But he didn’t want her to stop. No…he wanted all
of her, as his, forever and he couldn’t continue to fight it if she kept coming
back into his life.

Her body, all pliant and sexy,
moved at a slow rhythm against his thigh. He couldn’t do anything but watch her
face as she stared up at him—longing and need and love in her eyes. Selfishly,
he wondered what it would be like to take her again—this time slowly, in a bed,
with him being in control, not her.

Her eyes sparkled up at him.
She obviously knew exactly what he was thinking and she’d use that to her
advantage, knowing her. Abigail was exactly that kind of female—charming, sexy,
and manipulative—but the best kind. Tiny beads of sweat dripped over her eye
and she winked. She was powerful, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d be
his—completely. She couldn’t be his though. They’d settled that once before.
But for tonight…he’d pretend she could be.

She wrapped her arms around
his neck, pulling his ear down to her mouth, her tongue slipping out as she
spoke, wetting the skin. “Come on David…you can do better than this.” And then
her mouth, warm and soft, was on his neck, heating his body to a point that he
could no longer take.

Wrapping his hands tighter
around her waist, and dangerously close to her jeans–clad backside again, David
pulled her to him, this time taking control as he groaned in her ear. “What are
you doing to me, Abigail?” Half embarrassed, half completely turned on, he
dropped his hands from her backside, only to dig his nails into her perfect
little hip bones. Her entire body shuddered and she threw her head back,
ignoring his question completely as she continued to dance.