Beautiful Disaster 02 Walking Disaster (23 page)

Perfect, but sad. It was the first place we’d had dinner together. Abby laughed a lot, but she never opened up. Never mentioned our time together. Still in that bubble. Still oblivious.
That my efforts were being ignored was at times infuriating, but being patient and keeping her happy were the only ways I had any chance of succeeding.

She fell asleep fairly quickly that night. As she slept just a few inches away, I watched her, trying to burn her image into my memory. The way her lashes fell against her skin; the way her wet
hair felt against my arm; the fruity, clean smell that wafted from her lotioned body; the barely audible noise her nose made when she exhaled. She was so peaceful, and had become so comfortable
sleeping in my bed.

The walls surrounding us were covered with pictures of Abby’s time in the apartment. It was dark, but each one was committed to my memory. Now that it finally felt like home, she was
leaving.

The morning of Abby’s last day, I felt like I would be swallowed whole by grief, knowing we would pack her up the next morning for Morgan Hall. Pidge would be around, maybe visit
occasionally, probably with America, but she would be with Parker. I was on the brink of losing her.

The recliner creaked a bit as I rocked back and forth, waiting for her to wake. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. The silence weighed down on me.

Shepley’s door whined as it open and closed, and my cousin’s bare feet slapped against the floor. His hair was sticking up in places, his eyes squinty. He made his way to the love
seat and watched me a while from under the hood of his sweatshirt.

It might have been cold. I didn’t notice.

“Trav? You’re going to see her again.”

“I know.”

“By the look on your face, I don’t think you do.”

“It won’t be the same, Shep. We’re going to live different lives. Grow apart. She’ll be with Parker.”

“You don’t know that. Parker will show his ass. She’ll wise up.”

“Then someone else like Parker.”

Shepley sighed and pulled one leg onto the couch, holding it up by the ankle. “What can I do?”

“I haven’t felt like this since Mom died. I don’t know what to do,” I choked out. “I’m going to lose her.”

Shepley’s brows pulled together. “So you’re done fighting, huh?”

“I’ve tried everything. I can’t get through to her. Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way about me that I do about her.”

“Or maybe she’s just trying not to. Listen. America and I will make ourselves scarce. You still have tonight. Do something special. Buy a bottle of wine. Make her some pasta. You
make damn good pasta.”

One side of my mouth turned up. “Pasta isn’t going to change her mind.”

Shepley smiled. “You never know. Your cooking is why I decided to ignore the fact that you’re fucking nuts and move in with you.”

I nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I’ll try anything.”

“Just make it memorable, Trav,” Shepley said, shrugging. “She might come around.”

Shepley and America volunteered to pick up a few things from the grocery store so I could cook dinner for Abby. Shepley even agreed to stop by a department store to pick up some new silverware
so we didn’t have to use the mix and match shit we had in our drawers.

My last night with Abby was set.

AS I SET OUT THE NAPKINS THAT NIGHT, ABBY CAME AROUND
the corner in a pair of holey jeans and a loose, flowing white shirt.

“I have been salivating. Whatever you’re making smells so good.”

I poured the Alfredo and pasta into her deep plate, and slid the blackened Cajun chicken on top, and then sprinkled over it some diced tomatoes and green onions.

“This is what I’ve been cooking,” I said, setting the plate in front of Abby’s chair. She sat down, and her eyes widened, and then she watched me fill my own plate.

I tossed a slice of garlic bread onto her plate, and she smiled. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“Yes, I did,” I said, popping the cork on the wine. The dark red liquid splashed a bit as it flowed into her glass, and she giggled.

“You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.”

My lips pressed together. “Yes. I did.”

Abby took a bite, and then another, barely pausing to swallow. A small hum emanated from her lips. “This is really good, Trav. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“If I told you before, you would have expected it every night.” The contrived smile I’d somehow managed quickly faded.

“I’m going to miss you, too, Trav,” she said, still chewing.

“You’re still gonna come over, right?”

“You know I will. And you’ll be at Morgan’s, helping me study, just like you did before.”

“But it won’t be the same.” I sighed. “You’ll be dating Parker, we’re going to get busy . . . go in different directions.”

“It’s not going to change that much.”

I laughed once. “Who would have thought from the first time we met that we’d be sitting here? You couldn’t have told me three months ago that I’d be this miserable over
saying goodbye to a girl.”

Abby’s face fell. “I don’t want you to be miserable.”

“Then don’t go.”

Abby swallowed, and her eyebrows moved in infinitesimally. “I can’t move in here, Travis. That’s crazy.”

“Says who? I just had the best two weeks of my life.”

“Me, too.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m never gonna see you again?”

She watched me for a moment, but didn’t reply. Instead Abby stood up and walked around the breakfast bar, sitting on my lap. Everything in me wanted to look her in the eyes, but I was
afraid if I did, I’d try to kiss her, and our night would be ruined.

She hugged me, her soft cheek pressing against mine. “You’re going to realize what a pain in the ass I was, and then you’ll forget all about missing me,” she whispered in
my ear.

I rubbed my hand in circles between her shoulder blades, trying to choke back the sadness. “Promise?”

Abby looked into my eyes, touching each side of my face with her hands. She caressed my jaw with her thumb. Thoughts of begging her to stay crossed my mind, but she wouldn’t hear me. Not
from the other side of her bubble.

Abby closed her eyes and leaned down. I knew she meant to kiss the corner of my mouth, but I turned so that our lips met. It was my last chance. I had to kiss her goodbye.

She froze for a moment, but then her body relaxed, and she let her lips linger on mine.

Abby finally pulled away, playing it off with a smile. “I have a big day tomorrow. I’m going to clean up the kitchen, and then I’m going to head to bed.”

“I’ll help you.”

We did the dishes together in silence, with Toto asleep at our feet. I dried the last dish and set it in the rack, and then reached down for her hand to lead her down the hall. Each step was
agony.

Abby pushed down her jeans, and then lifted her shirt over her head. Grabbing one of my T-shirts from the closet, she let the worn gray cotton slide over her head. I stripped down to my boxers
like I’d done dozens of times with her in the room, but this time solemnness hung over the room.

We climbed into bed, and I switched off the lamp. I immediately wrapped my arms around her and sighed, and she nestled her face into my neck.

The trees outside my window cast a shadow across the walls. I tried to concentrate on their shapes and the way the light wind changed the shape of their silhouette against the different angles
of the wall. Anything to keep my mind off the numbers on the clock, or how close we were to the morning.

Morning. My life was going to change for the worse in just a few hours. Jesus Christ. I couldn’t bear it. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block that train of thought.

“Trav? Are you okay?”

It took me a while to form the words. “I’ve never been less okay in my life.”

She pressed her forehead against my neck again, and I squeezed her tighter.

“This is silly,” she said. “We’re going to see each other every d a y.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Her head tilted just a tiny bit upward. I wasn’t sure if she was staring at me, or getting ready to say something. I waited in the darkness, in the silence, feeling like the world was
going to crash around me at any second.

Without warning, Abby puckered her lips and touched them to my neck. Her mouth opened as she tasted my skin, and the warm wetness of her mouth lingered in that spot.

I looked down at her, completely taken off guard. A familiar spark burned behind the window of her eyes. Unsure of how it happened, I’d finally gotten through to her. Abby finally realized
my feelings for her, and the light had suddenly come on.

I leaned down, pressing my lips against hers, soft and slow. The longer our mouths were melded together, the more overwhelmed I became by the reality of what was happening.

Abby pulled me closer to her. Each movement she made was further affirmation of her answer. She felt the same. She cared about me. She wanted me. I wanted to run around the block screaming in
celebration, and at the same time, didn’t want to move my mouth from hers.

Her mouth opened, and I moved my tongue inside, tasting and searching softly.

“I want you,” she said.

Her words sunk in, and I understood what she meant. One part of me wanted to rip off every piece of fabric between us, the other set off full lights and sirens. We were finally on the same page.
No need to rush it now.

I pulled back a bit, but Abby only became more determined. I retreated all the way upright on my knees, but Abby stayed with me.

I gripped her shoulders to hold her at bay. “Wait a sec,” I whispered, breathing hard. “You don’t have to do this, Pidge. This isn’t what tonight is
about.”

Even though I wanted to do the right thing, Abby’s unexpected intensity coupled with the fact that I hadn’t been laid in a length of time that was sure to be my all-time record, my
dick was proudly standing against my boxers.

Abby leaned in again, and this time I let her come close enough to touch her lips to mine. She looked up at me, serious and resolute. “Don’t make me beg,” she whispered against
my mouth.

No matter how noble I’d intended to be, those words coming from her mouth destroyed me. I grabbed the back of her head and sealed my lips against hers.

Abby’s fingers ran down the length of my back and settled on the elastic of my boxers, before seeming to contemplate her next move. Six weeks of pent-up sexual tension overwhelmed me, and
we crashed into the mattress. My fingers tangled in her hair as I positioned myself between her open knees. Just as our mouths met again, she slid her hand down the front of my boxers. When her
soft fingers touched my bare skin, a low groan erupted. It was the best fucking feeling I could imagine.

The old gray T-shirt Abby wore was the first thing to go. Thankfully the full moon lit the room just enough that I could appreciate her bare breasts for just a few seconds before I impatiently
moved on to the rest of her. My hand gripped her panties, and then slipped them down her legs. I tasted her mouth as I followed the inside line of her leg, and traveled the length of her thigh. My
fingers slipped between Abby’s soft, wet skin, and she let out a long, faltering breath. Before I went further, a conversation we’d had not too long before replayed in my mind. Abby was
a virgin. If this was what she really wanted, I had to be gentle. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.

Her knees arched and twitched with each movement of my hand. I licked and sucked different spots on her neck while I waited for her to make a decision. Her hips moved from side to side, and
rocked back and forth, reminding me of the way she danced against me at the Red. Her bottom lip pulled in, and she bit it, digging her fingers into my back at the same time.

I positioned myself above her. My boxers were still on, but I could feel her bare skin against me. She was so fucking warm, holding back was the hardest thing I’d ever made myself do. Not
even an inch more and I could have pushed through my boxers and been inside her.

“Pigeon,” I said, panting, “it doesn’t have to be tonight. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Abby reached for the top drawer of the nightstand, pulling it open. Plastic crackled in her hand, and then she ripped the square package open with her teeth. That was a green light if I’d
ever seen one.

My hand left her back, and I pulled my boxers down, kicking them violently. Any patience I’d had was gone. The only thing I could think about was being inside of her. I slipped the latex
on, and then lowered my hips between her thighs, touching the most sensitive parts of my skin to hers.

“Look at me, Pigeon,” I breathed.

Her big, round, gray eyes peered up at me. It was so surreal. This was what I had dreamed about since the first time she rolled her eyes at me, and it was finally happening. I tilted my head,
and then leaned down to kiss her tenderly. I moved forward and tensed, pushing myself inside as gently as I could. When I pulled back, I looked into Abby’s eyes. Her knees held my hips like a
vise grip, and she bit her bottom lip harder than before, but her fingers were pressing into my back, pulling me closer. When I rocked into her again, she clenched her eyes shut.

I kissed her, softly, patiently. “Look at me,” I whispered.

She hummed, and groaned, and cried out. With each noise she made, it became more difficult to control my movements. Abby’s body finally relaxed, allowing me to move against her in a more
rhythmic motion. The faster I moved, the less in control I felt. I touched every part of her skin, and licked and kissed her neck, cheek, and lips.

She pulled me into her over and over, and each time I pressed deeper inside.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Abby. You’re all I want,” I breathed against her mouth.

I grabbed her thigh with one hand and propped myself up with my elbow. Our stomachs slid easily against each other as beads of sweat began to form on our skin. I thought about turning her over,
or pulling her on top of me, but decided I’d rather sacrifice creativity for being able to look into her eyes, and staying as close to her as I could.

Just when I thought I could make it last all night, Abby sighed.