A Long Time Coming (15 page)

Why did she have to say things
like that? She was too good for him. He had no future, no job, nothing. What
did she see in him? It was time for a subject change. And as much as his ego
grew at her confession, David knew he had to keep the conversation moving
forward.

“Abs?”

“Mmm?”

He grinned and shook his head
again. Christ, that sleepy sound about did him in, made him want to nuzzle her
neck, kiss every inch of her skin. If he worked hard enough, he swore from
memory that she almost purred under his hands once before. But instead, he
brushed a lock of her blonde hair from her eyes, turning on his side to face
her. He settled one hand on her tiny waistline, just at her hip bone, the other
one pressed against her cheek. Her baby blues were shut, but he knew pure
ecstasy when he saw it. Her face was the ultimate example of that emotion as
she settled her hands against his chest. Just another few inches and he could
have those perfect, pink, kissable lips under his. But it wasn’t time, not yet.

“Where do you see yourself in
five years?”

She lifted her leg higher onto
his thigh, pressing every warm spot on her body against his. Fuck…it was
amazing a sensible sentence even came out. She was two seconds away from
becoming consumed by his mouth and tongue and body if she kept moving those
legs like that.

Her leg stilled at his
question though, like she was ready to dart away from his hold. He pulled her
in tighter—there was no way she’d get away now. Eyes widening, she stared up at
him, fear etched across her face as she blinked. His brows pressed together as
he waited for her to respond, but he wasn’t about to pull back his question
now. Abigail really needed to share that secret of hers…soon.

“I…I don’t really know, yet.”
She blew out a breath, staring down at his mouth. Hell… Were there tears in her
eyes? No. Not again. She was tough as shit—one of things he loved about her.
But still, there was no doubt that he caught sight of that glistening wetness
in the corners of her lids. And yet again, it was all his fault. “Maybe working
full time at the salon…or…or possibly starting up something separate, away from
my mom?” She shrugged, averting her eyes to his chest instead of his face. He
tipped her chin up with his finger, and sure enough, she was blinking away a tear.
He frowned…what was with the water works?

“How about you?” Her question
stole his breath, catching him off guard. Damn…he wasn’t expecting there to be
a reciprocal question.

“Uh…” he had no idea. He took
things day by day anymore. But if he had to dream, he was going to go big. “I’d
like to coach football.” He shrugged, waiting for her response. He hadn’t told
anyone this. Not even Harley. To have a dream meant he’d actually have to do
something besides feel sorry for himself and stay locked away in his room. And
that was hard…

Was he ready for that though?
He didn’t know. But with Abigail by his side, maybe it would be possible.
Still, would she be able to put up with his endless trips to therapy? His
constant doctor’s appointments? His headaches, his mood swings? The basic fact
of the matter was that he wasn’t good enough for her. But for the first time in
two long–ass years, he was ready to
try
and be good for her.

“That’s…that’s awesome news.”
She grabbed his waist and wrapped her hand tentatively around his back. His
words caught in his throat as she settled her body even closer to his. Her warm
breath drifted over his neck, stirring up the long, straggling hairs he needed
to cut. It was amazing he was even thinking at all. “You can do it. It’s possible.
Finish up at school, maybe even go to U of N—be a Husker after all—at least in
the stadium as a fan.” She stiffened, “Oh God…that was the stupidest thing I’ve
ever said. I’m so sorry. I know how much football meant to you. I should have
never said—”

“Stop. It’s fine.
I’m
fine.”
Sort of…
“You have no need to be upset. Your enthusiasm is one of the
things I love most about you.” His heartbeat tripled, her fingers stiffened
against his back. Oh shit. That wasn’t meant to come out. That thought was
his…but apparently it was now hers too.

He couldn’t deny the fact that
he was head over heels gone and in love with this girl. Hell, he’d been that
way for years! And too, he knew she felt the same way, without a doubt. It was
never just about the leg though—or lack thereof he should say. It was the
dormant fear of ruining a partnership he’d developed with her. Could two people
who’d been friends for so long make it in the end on the relationship front?
Because knowing him, he’d fuck it all up for sure.

“I…I uh…”

“It’s okay, Abigail, you don’t
need to say anything back. I just…” Dammit, why was this so hard?

“No, David…I get—”

“Seriously…you don’t have to
say a thing.”

Pulling back away from him,
Abigail peered up at him once more. Her face was heavenly. The simple scent of
her skin was sweet like flowers, just as he’d remembered. But her sexy little
smile said it all. And the best part was that she really didn’t need to say it
for him to know what she was feeling.

Abigail was just as ready to
take this to the next level—finally—too.

“Okay, one more, for each of
us. Then we seriously need to get some sleep, or just get up.”

Giggling like a crazy school
girl, Abigail flung the pillow at his head, noting the first speck of light
sprinkling through the glass of the small bedroom window. His face morphed into
huge grin as he shoveled the last of the chips and cheese into his mouth.

They’d done it…they’d stayed
up all night. Talking, laughing—eating all the junk food in the kitchen. Harley
and Mason would kick there asses for sure, but hey, she was hungry. Harley
would understand.

“Fine, you win. Ask me one
more.”

“First kiss…”

“Can I plead the fifth here?”
He mumbled around his chip, a blush creeping up on his cheeks as he settled
back against the headboard.

“Nope…no can do, buddy boy.”

“Fine. Whatever. I can’t
believe you don’t know this already anyways.”

“Hey, I didn’t stalk you,” …
all
the time.

“Fine, whatever. It was
Audriana Willis, seventh grade, right outside the school gym after a football
game.”

Eyes widening, Abigail coughed,
choking on a chip. “No way… Audriana the girl who got expelled because she got
caught sucking off Caine Montgomery in the boys’ locker room our freshman
year?”

Wincing, David ran a hand
through his hair. “God, Abigail, it’s not
that
big of a deal, we were
twelve.”

She grinned, gulping down the
last of the water from her bottle. “Well,” she wiped her mouth, moving in
closer to settle herself next to him on the bed. “I’d be proud, David, you were
probably the last guy to ever
just
kiss her.”

It was either her bravado
talking, or her sleep deprivation, but at five–thirty in the morning, she was
feeling pretty damn giddy with how their night had turned out. This was what
she’d missed the most—the two of them just hanging out together.

“Whatever,” he shoved her
shoulder, smiling down with lips that were so perfect it was almost cry–worthy.

“I’ve gotta pee,” she gave him
a lopsided grin that threatened to explode if she wasn’t careful. “When I get
back, you can ask me one more, ’k?” She jumped from the bed, heading towards
the hallway.

“Oh, you can bet it’ll be a
good one.” He hollered from behind, a smile evident in his voice as he did.

She giggled at his words,
practically skipping down the hall to the bathroom. Harley’s and Mason’s door
was open, but neither of them were anywhere to be found. No doubt Mason had
dragged her best friend out to hit some waves or something. Harley had said it
was kind of their thing on Sunday mornings to go, so there was no reason to be
alarmed if they were MIA for a while. She just prayed they’d gotten past their
issues from the night before.

After her bathroom break
ended, she meandered towards the kitchen, her stomach actually hungry instead
of pukey. Sweet, maybe that was a good sign. She rummaged through the fridge,
finding two oranges, ready to be devoured. She had a weird fetish with not
peeling with her fingers, hating the way she tasted and smelled the remnants
hours after she ate it. She was just sort of odd like that. So she shifted
through a drawer, finding a knife to do the job.

She grinned to herself,
staring out the patio window. Damn, she could totally get used to this—not
California in general—but staying up late all night with David; just being,
snuggling silently. Last night had been exactly what she needed to set the
gears in motion. Because if he was finally accepting her…then he’d most
definitely be accepting of their
baby too; at least…she hoped so.

“Jesus, Abs, how can you still
be hungry?”

Stumbling at the sound of
David’s voice behind her, Abigail shrieked, just as the knife she was holding,
sliced through her finger. “Holyshit–holyshit–holyshit…” The blade fell to the
floor, and she scrambled towards the sink, and let the water drench the cut.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” David
hopped over on his crutch, coming up behind her.

“No…it’s not your fault,” she
winced, pulling it back from the wet stream, only to watch the blood drip down
over her nail. She reached for a paper towel and wrapped it around her finger.
“I was in La–La Land, and should’ve been more careful.”

Hissing, David whipped her
around, reaching down to take charge. Her eyes widened as she watched him
tighten the towel over her finger even more. “Hold still,” he nodded, all
breathy and quiet. He was so serious… He dug through the cupboards, until a box
of Band–Aids sat in his hands. He frowned, his tongue peeking out of his mouth
as he concentrated and placed one over her finger in a matter of seconds.

“There,” he grinned up at her,
in all of his big brown–eyed glory, pulling her hand into his. Slowly, he
lifted her fingers up towards his mouth, placing a soft, tentative kiss upon
the mark, “You’re all better now…”

Flames of infatuation and love
danced their evil jig in her gut as he settled his crutch back under his arm.
Her face heated to a degree the California heat could in no way touch, and she
bit her lip. She would not get swoony over a finger kiss…she would not…could
not. But shit, damn, go to hell—that’s exactly what she just did.

“Come back to the bedroom…I
need to show you something.” She blinked, clearing the blurriness of heat from
her vision. Um, yeah, she’d had sex with this guy before, but the intimacy in
his eyes, and the softness of his words as he’d kissed her mark, was more
seductive than anything she’d ever in her life experienced.

“Uh, huh…” she swallowed,
dazed as she followed him back towards the bedroom, the half peeled oranges now
tucked under David’s crutch–free arm.

The bedroom was disheveled
with clothing stacked high around his bag when she walked into the room. She
surveyed the area, giggling, “Um, when did a tornado of clothes happen to hit,
cuz I really wasn’t gone that long, you know.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he
inched his way towards the bed and sat down, patting the spot next to him.
“Quit being a smart ass, and get over here so I can show you something.”

Shaking her head, she shuffled
towards the bed and sat where his hand once was. His eyes were fully fixated on
her face, and she had the strangest urge to cover it up. Vulnerability sucked,
and he made her feel that way, but in a way that she weirdly enjoyed, too. With
David, she always felt cherished, important, and sometimes it was a tad bit
overwhelming when he watched her with his dark, unreadable eyes. She was all
kinds of messed up.

“I want you to see this…” he cleared
his throat, settling a notebook onto her lap. She tore her gaze from his face
and glanced down at it. It was blue, with a small tie holding it shut.

“Um, what’s this?” Eyebrows
arched, Abigail turned to face him, a little confused and intrigued at the same
time.

A blush that was full–blown
and sigh–worthy crept over his cheeks. He pulled his lips into his mouth before
popping them back outwards and into a frown. “Well, if you’re not going to open
it, then we might as well forget I showed you.” Reaching across her lap, David
tried to snatch it away, but Abigail was superhero quick, and pulled it tight
to her chest.

“Uh, no, no way…I’m curious
now.”

God he was cute, even when he
sulked. “Well I’ll be down here on the bed when you’re done, kicking myself in
the ass for actually showing you that.” And with a huff, he fell back onto the
mattress.

Not sure how to respond, and
too snoopy to stop now, Abigail flipped open the book, fingering the edges of
the white paper as she stared down at the words and the date.

October 19, 2010

I’m home. I don’t want to be.
I just want to go where the pain won’t hurt me anymore. I want to be anywhere
else. I want to crawl into a hole and burn at the hands of the flames buried
near the pits of hell.

A knot, so large and tight she
could hardly swallow, built at the base of her throat. She pinched her Adam’s
apple, and tried to rein in her emotions. Jesus…what in the hell was this? She
cleared her throat, and read on.

November 3, 2010

Why can’t they all see I’m
nothing now? Why can’t they just let my soul die, right along with my leg?

Oh heavenly fuck…what was he
talking about? What was this gibberish, and why was she so angry, but so
heartbroken at the same time over these poetic, depressing words? He’d written
all of these things, only weeks after his accident though—that much was obvious.
But David had never in his life shown such emotion. It ate her up; made her
want to hold him, kiss him, and hit him with her fists, all at the same time.

Page after page, single line
after single line, words that couldn’t have been written by the boy she loved
were scripted across the whiteness of the red–lined paper.

January 13, 2011

Harley isn’t helping…Harley
isn’t even my sister anymore. She’s gone, worse than me, but yet the pain of
what I am now without my leg, grates on my nerves—as well as my heart—so much
so that I can’t help but hate her for trying so hard…but I love her so much it
hurts. She needs to move on…away from me…just like Abigail.

Angry tears pooled against her
lids, threatening to fall. But she wouldn’t let them. What did he mean,
just
like Abigail?
She’d
never
left him. If anything, she was
always
there…always by his side, whenever he’d allowed her to be. Up until last year
though…that’s when Harley told her she couldn’t come by unless it was planned,
due to the fact that David wasn’t doing so well. Shaking her head, she glanced
back over her shoulder, studying him as his arm lay pressed over his eyes. His
breathing was steady, but the firm, tight line of his lips, and the bob of his
throat, said he was far from relaxed. He was nervous, terrified probably of
setting himself up like this.

She blinked, staring down at
the words again, flipping ahead a few months…up until she landed on last of
September.

September 30, 2012

I can’t have it. But I want
it…so bad that my entire body seems to throb with an uncontrollable sensation
that I in no way can control. And if I can’t have it, then why should I care if
someone else can? I am me…they are them. Worthless versus promising… Man versus
cripple…

No…he wasn’t talking about
wanting her, was he. But the timing…the boy she briefly dated in the Fall… The
dance… The night he’d told her they would never be. She knew he’d been lying to
himself when he said he didn’t want her. But yet there he was, on paper,
telling himself exactly what he’d always denied.

One more page, that’s all
she’d read. And the page she was dying the most was only a few flips of her
hand away.

July 21, 2013

My life is complete. I’ve
consumed the only thing I will ever again need to be whole. The perfection of
her, the beauty of her body, the soft moonlight over her shadowed face, the way
we fit so perfectly together, as if we were never meant to be with anyone else.
I can now die a man who has said he’s loved to the fullest.

Blowing out a slow breath, she
shut the notebook, careful not to let her trembling hands rip the pages. That
was a lie. A complete and utter fraud, because there was no way he’d loved to
his fullest that night.
That
kind of love had yet to consume either of
them. But that was going to change, and by fucking god, she’d be the one to do
just that.

“Sit up, David.” It was
amazing her voice stayed so sure and smooth as she spoke, because she felt
anything but.

“Umm…are you going to deck me
if I do?” He chuckled nervously. This was not a chuckling sort of moment. At.
All.

“No, I’m not…”

Slowly, he did as she
requested, staring over at her with inquiring, tentative brown eyes that melted
her heart in under a minute. Damn, he hurt so much. She had to fix him. Had to
help make him whole again. As a girl who got what she wanted, that’s exactly
what she was going to be doing from here on out, until the day she died.

“Well…?”He blinked, staring
down at his lap.

“H–how could you say those
things? Seriously! You lost a leg, you didn’t die! You survived!” She turned to
face him fully, sitting cross–legged against his side. “You are the most loved
man I know.”

“Well, yeah, I know I’m loved,
Abigail. But that wasn’t the point. The point of that notebook was to show you
what my brain has been like since the accident,” he groaned, running his long
fingers through his curls. “It’s like my mind is not my own anymore, like I’m
someone else living in the same body…sort of.”

“No, that’s you—completely.
It’s just that somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of who you were before
the accident—what you wanted out of life.” She reached down and pulled his hand
into her lap, “You’ve always been the broody, moody athlete who acts tough on
the outside,” she bit her lip appearing unsure as she reached over to touch his
chest with the palm of her other hand, “but right here…that’s still the same.
You are a lover. You are a fighter. And you are the only guy who I can safely
call a good and real man.”