A Long Time Coming (14 page)

Damn her…

She swayed against him slowly,
and he met her pace, only slightly aware of the fact that his stub throbbed
like a bitch against his prosthetic as he did. Abigail was an erotic drug that
surely would heal all his wounds—head, leg pain and all. The silk of her top
slipped under his fingers and he groaned, frustrated because he wanted to feel
her soft skin so damn badly.

“Do you like to dance with me,
David?”

“Fuck, Abigail, you know I
do.” She leaned back towards him and grinned—looking downright mischievous. She
turned around, and settled her backside to his front, pushing into him with the
ass he wanted all to himself. “Abigail…” he warned, feeling his core heat
further. Her hands reach around behind her, grabbing at his neck and hair as
she continued to move her body at a tempo with his that should be illegal in
all fifty states. He lowered his mouth, ready to taste her…just once, until the
sound of a voice interrupted him.

“Hey sweet little thing, you
got one of those sexy little dances saved up for me?”

Abigail stiffened under his
hands as the unexpected, unwelcome sound sifted through his fog filled brain.
Settling herself at his side, she reached down and grabbed his hand,
interlocking it with her own. The move wasn’t missed on him at all and he took
the strength she probably wasn’t aware she was giving him. The white–haired
freak from the table winked at her, rubbing his chin with his forefinger and
thumb as his gaze traveled between the two of them before perusing the length
of her body.

“Listen
pal,
I don’t
know who you think you are, but my special little
dances
have to be
earned by my
boyfriend
and my
boyfriend alone
, not creepy skinny
guys who can’t seem to keep their dicks from doing all the thinking for them.”

Wow, Abigail was feistier than
ever. Spitfire anger came darting out of her like steam, but there was no way
David was about to let her fight this battle for him.

“Abigail, can you give us a
second please?” He questioned her, settling his hand on her lower back. She
turned to face him. The anger written all over her face was more than evident.

“Um, I’m not going anywhere,
David.” She dropped his hand, stubbornly crossing her arms as she pushed her
chin upwards. Normally, seeing her so riled up would make him laugh. But
tonight, he just wanted her to listen and back away, so he could deal with this
punk once and for all.

Harley approached on her other
side, grabbing Abigail’s wrist. She pulled her back towards the edge of the
dance floor, leaving David face to face with this prick.

“Dude, you’re kind of
pathetic. Who knew you’d let a bitch fight your battles?” David’s breath
staggered as he inched forward. His stump continued to burn from bearing weight
without the crutch at his side. But there was no way he’d allow this dickhead
to stand there and call him pathetic, while at the same time, calling Abigail a
bitch.

Readying his fists to do some
serious damage to pretty boy’s face once and for all, David snarled through his
teeth as the guy continued on. “I mean, that chick is way too hot and slutty
for someone who probably got their dick chopped off along with their leg,” he
winked, and laughed. “She needs a real man—someone of my caliber—not yours.” He
turned towards his buddies that stood stock straight next to him, hitting each
one of them in the shoulder, obviously trying to draw a laugh out.

This guy…was a goner.

“Nobody talks about my girl
like that.” Damn the leg, damn his worthless life, this girl belonged to him,
and nobody else. He’d just been too stupid and idiotic to see it…until now.

“What are you going to do
about it, gimpy? It’s not like you can fight me or anything.” That’s when he
turned back to face his friends, laughing like some sort of drunken hyena. His
buddies stayed still though, looking damn uncomfortable as they tried to
obviously talk him down.

“I may be a
gimp…
but
I’m still gonna kick your ass.” Reaching forward, David grabbed the back of his
shoulder, yanking him around until he was within inches of his face. His breath
reeked of sour milk and beer, sending David’s stomach into a tumultuous battle
with his dinner. But he pushed through, yanking at the guy’s girly hair.

Good, the fucker was turning
white. That’d teach him. That was the thing about only having one leg…David
worked the hell out of his upper body.

“Dude, don’t.” A hand fell
upon his back, catching him off guard. Mason… What the fuck did he want? “The
guy’s drunk, and not worth your time.” A whimper fell from freak boys’ mouth as
David tightened his hold. He inhaled through his nose, staring over at
Abigail’s wide–eyed, fearful face.

Dammit. He had him right where
he wanted, too. Just one move of his face and this asshole’s nose would be
busted. He was ready to show him exactly what the hell happened to the idiots
that messed with the people he loved. “Step away, Mason,” he snarled through
his teeth, fighting a cringe, just as a jolt of uncontrollable pain practically
split down the center of his skull.

Jesus Christ…not now!

He dropped the freak with a
thump on the plexiglass, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. The room
began to blur, and sounds rushed together, but the pain outweighed everything.
Voices called out to him, but he couldn’t tell who it was. He fell to the
ground on his ass, groaning as the contact sent throbbing pressure through his
leg and head both. He needed his pills… And he needed them now. The music
pounded louder, adding to the pain. He couldn’t fight it. It hurt.

“Abigail,” he hissed through
gritted teeth.

“I’m here, David. What do you
want me to do?” She sat on the floor in front of him, pressing her shaking
palms against his cheeks. Her face was level with his, calmness exuded from
her, betraying her trembling hands.

“What’s wrong with him? David,
what is it?” Harley cried out next to him, wrapping her arm around his back.
“Mason, please, help me get him up. What’s going on David?” The panic rose in
his sister’s voice. But he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the tear–filled
eyes of the girl he was so in love with.

She nodded at him. Knowledge
seemed to fill her eyes. “It’s fine…he’s going to be fine, Harley. Just…let’s
get him back to the apartment, okay? David, can you stand?”

A face of an angel—that’s what
Abigail looked like under the neon lights of the club. His angel in the
darkness, shedding the only brightness he’d known since the day he lost his
leg. “Help me,” he whispered, meaning it more in the sense than just helping
him stand up. He meant it a way that said
I need you to help me live again.
He
just prayed that she understood. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed a
friend. He needed his Abigail. And he was finally…finally ready to admit it.

    
The
tears she’d been fighting for two hours just would not cease. They’d been
falling at a rate that was completely out of control, especially for her.
Wasn’t there a limit as to how many she could produce? Well, the preggo thing
probably didn’t help either, but still, this was getting downright ridiculous.

Abigail shook her head and
shut her eyes as she rolled onto her other side. When they’d returned from the
club, she’d followed David to his room. Harley had protested, obviously wanting
to be there for her brother, but she’d convinced her best friend that it wasn’t
the time to get into everything that was going on with David. She did promise
to explain more in the morning, saying that David needed her too much tonight
to get into it. Harley loves her brother more than anything, and just wants the
best for him, so she let it go, but only when Abigail confirmed that he wasn’t,
in fact, dying.

Undressing David down to his
boxers, Abigail had gotten him settled under the comforter on the bed without a
single protest on his end. It was hard as hell not to study the perfection of
his body, but she let her need to be his friend outweigh her
girlie
needs.
The oddest thing was that he had actually let her take care of him. That was
just another sign that he wasn’t doing well. His headaches were getting
worse—far worse—but at least he hadn’t passed out like he’d done at the party.
She’d definitely have a hard time trying to explain
that one
to Harley.

She had found his pills in the
side of his bag and without argument, he took them. The simple fact that he had
actually brought them on the trip was a step towards finally giving in to the
acceptance/healing process. David had always been so set on giving up on life
in general. Could it be that he actually was stepping up and facing his
problems after all? She could only hope so.

As she brushed the curls off
of his forehead, long after he’d settled into a deep sleep, Abigail smiled to
herself, realizing that tonight, he’d finally dropped a wall between the two of
them as well, whether he knew it or not. A wall that, for one, gave her
permission to be what she was dying to be again—his friend, a caretaker too,
and maybe, someday soon, he’d let her be more.

“One day at a time, Abigail.”
She groaned, rolling onto her back once more.

She grinned, throwing her arm
over her still damp eyes. God, she needed to stop getting ahead of herself
here. This was something, sure, but only a millimeter of a step towards where
they would eventually need to be in seven more months, maybe less, maybe more.
Sure, she ached to make it all happen at once, but like with Harley, she needed
to be patient with David. He wasn’t the type you wanted to take on full–force,
and get all you can get at once.

Shivering, Abigail pulled the
blanket up to her chin as the air conditioning vent blew down on her bare legs.
She rubbed them together like a cricket, trying to settle her jumbled nerves.
Just knowing that on the other side of that bedroom door was her sleeping
salvation, the one thing that would make her own crooked, messed up life a
little sunnier.

She bit her lip and rolled
onto her side again. Jesus…what was she doing? Better yet, what was she
thinking
?
It wasn’t like she could go in there—into the room where he lay clad in only
his black boxers. But yet he hadn’t protested at her earlier in the night to
leave him before he fell asleep. In fact, his silent gaze and pleading eyes
said something entirely different. At least
she
thought so… Did she dare
think that he wanted her to sleep with him in there all night?

Her hands tightened on the
edge of the blanket at the thought. The leather of the couch stuck to her legs
as she tried to sink in lower. She blew out a breath, wondering what exactly
he’d do if he woke with her standing next to him? Would he kick her out of bed?
Or would he, God help her, pull her into his arms and hold her in his sleep,
taking her to the unspoken place she’d been dying to go to ever since the night
they’d changed the way she looked at the back seat of her car. Not the sex part
of course, but more of that post–coital bliss thing in its entirety. She’d
barely remembered what it felt like to sleep snuggled up next to his naked
chest that night, and out of all the needs she had for this guy, that was the
one she was dying to experience again.

“Jesus Abs, get a fucking grip
here.”

She shook her head and gave up
on sleep, finally standing. Her footsteps treaded lightly against the wooden
floor as she sauntered into the kitchen. She yanked open the fridge and grabbed
a bottle of water sucking it down flat in only a minute. She tossed the empty
bottle into the garbage and began to gnaw on her lip as she stared down the
dark hall. Okay…she’d just check on him at least—make sure he was breathing—and
then walk out, completely content. Well…not completely, but sated on a level
that was entirely not sexual.

“Hah, content and sated my
ass…”

Tiptoeing towards the room,
she settled her hand over the door, taking a deep shuddering breath before she
let it click open. The room was dark, with only an inkling of light spilling
through the curtains from the moon. It outlined the reflection of his body that
was currently lying sprawled out over the top of his sheets on the bed.

Okay, a few more steps and
she’d be there. Then she could turn and get the hell out—act like this never
happened in the first place.

The edge of the mattress hit
her knees before she even realized it. But the obstacle wasn’t concerning
her—it was the sight before her that made her gasp. She’d never seen David
without his prosthetic, or without pants on covering up his non–existent limb,
either.

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.”