“It’s complicated… I can explain.” Why would she want to watch me do those things?
He turned the letter over.
She can’t be like the others. Don’t throw her away.
The clock in his bedroom ticked again. It was seven fifteen. He could walk through her door in twenty minutes. They could eat dinner and end things politely. She didn’t deserve to be tossed aside. He’d been thrown to the curb plenty and didn’t want her to feel the hit of the pavement the way he had. They could at least end whatever had started in a way that would leave them both intact.
The half-built Lego Death Star sat on the coffee table. On the shelf, the only shelf in the apartment, he’d put the completed Millennium Falcon. On the drive home, after finding the damn DVDs, the only thing he had wanted to do was wring her pretty neck. Now the only thing he could think about was running his tongue along the smooth column. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go back to her apartment.
The neatly arranged gray blocks sat next to the pile of white blocks. Keeping the blocks organized was very important while constructing a big project like this one. It’d eaten up many a long night when he couldn’t sleep. He pressed one small rectangle on top of another one, locking it into place. He could just stay in tonight and say, “Fuck it.” He didn’t need her anyway. Why did she think it was okay to film him for her private stash?
Sean leaned back against the couch. The memories of his childhood flooded his mind. So many afternoons spent lonely while the other kids played. He just couldn’t seem to exist around other kids without fighting. His temper was what landed him in three foster homes in three years. No one wanted a troubled kid whose mom died of a drug overdose. They assumed he’d be on drugs too one day. Didn’t happen. The fighting continued, but the other stuff never happened.
By the time he turned sixteen, he found out that girls liked bad boys. Sure, they didn’t want anyone to know they were messing around with the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, but that didn’t stop them from keeping the secret. Hell, if they acted stupid enough not to want to share him with their friends, he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to ask to hang out after they’d made out in the back of his old Buick.
Sean’s knee bounced up and down. Shit, if he could just walk away, all would be okay. He could go back to the gym, the kids at the center. Life wasn’t easy financially before Abigail, but it sure as hell seemed less complicated. “Shit!”
The white walls staring back at him were a reminder of what he didn’t have. The small apartment afforded him a place to sleep. It was warm and cheap. Abigail’s apartment was warm too, but in a different way. The vibrant colors made him feel calm. Right now, it felt like he was a patient in a mental ward, all sterile.
Maybe he could just make her dinner, work on the business stuff she’d asked him to, and leave with an amicable handshake. He could have a moment of peace in a real home and see her dog. Maybe she’d even let him take the little mutt for a walk sometime. He looked over at the dinette table where the bags of groceries sat. He’d even tossed a dog toy into the cart while he was shopping. The rubber squirrel would squeak when she chewed on it. He’d thought his new furry friend would like it.
Without letting his ass take another fucking trip down memory lane, he slipped into a pair of flip-flops and grabbed the bag of groceries. Worst thing she could do was throw his ass out. Not like he hadn’t had that happen before.
* * * *
Abigail opened the hatch and grabbed the two brown sacks of groceries. She’d stopped at the market on the way home. Twenty minutes had gone by in the store, and she’d made it. After a sweep of the parking lot, three attempts to get out of the car, and two phone calls to Ron, she’d done it! She even took the time to shop the ice-cream aisle. Sure, she should’ve opted for a Lean Cuisine meal, but she’d filled the cart with ice cream and stuff to make lasagna instead. It was time for some serious comfort food.
Hips be damned!
The purse strap slipped off her shoulder as she tried to slide the key into the lock. “Damn it.” The key finally found its home, and the
click
sounded out. “Thank God.”
She hefted the bags on each hip and almost tripped as she opened the door. “What the…?” A small cardboard box lay on its side just outside the door. The warehouse’s parking lot was empty, and the box hadn’t been addressed to anyone. Today was Saturday, and she hadn’t ordered any supplies this week.
She stuffed the box on top of the bag next to the garlic bread. With one foot, she kicked the door closed and made her way up the flight of stairs leading to her apartment. The faint sound of scratches and snuffs came from behind the door as she set the bags down. “Hold on, girl. It’s Mama. I got us a treat. Chocolate caramel crunch for me and a new chew bone for you!” The clawing got louder before she unlocked the door and leaned down to grab the bags.
The little dog jumped up and down, as best she could on her short legs, to welcome her mistress home. “Hello, hello. Yes, I’m home. Come on.”
Barely missing another trip over the panting dog, Abigail set the bags on the breakfast bar and lifted the box from the bag. “Maybe Ron ordered something. What do you think?” After turning the box over several times, she didn’t see an address label.
The box had been taped shut with clear packaging tape. After several tries, the tape broke, and the flaps opened. The box dropped to the floor with a
clomp
. “No, girl! Get back!” With shaking hands, she lifted the box, scattering the wilted rose petals. “No no no.”
The urge to search through the dead petals overshadowed the need to burn the damn thing. Her fingers grazed a cool piece of metal. From the silver ring dangled a red heart. The glittery side sparkled in the overhead light. The back side was engraved.
Together forever.
Abigail dropped the key ring. Penelope yelped at the clatter and ran behind the couch. Hiding sounded pretty damn good to her right now too. The thunder in her chest resounded inside her head. With each thud, she made her feet move. Quickly, she had to get rid of the stuff. There was no way Justin could’ve found her. She’d been very careful with cell phones and addresses. The package must have been from a crazy fan, someone who’d gotten all caught up in the Web site and found out where the Fantasy Emporium headquarters were located.
Maybe it wasn’t even for her. Maybe it was meant for one of the performers. She wanted to smack her own hands for wishing it. No one deserved to find such a demented gift on their doorstep. Maybe the petals had wilted in the heat? Maybe they’d been fresh at one time with the quirky key chain hidden like a treasure. A gift meant out of admiration.
Right? Please be right
. Someone had obviously taken the time to mail the small box.
“The door downstairs was unlocked.”
Abigail jumped, bumping her knee on the stool at the bar. “Ouch! Sean, what are you doing here?”
His body filled the doorway. Apparently, she’d left her apartment door unlocked too. “Sorry, you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What?” The fuzziness stifled her thoughts. Why was he here? Hadn’t he called her a loser this morning?
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“No. I mean…no. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She pushed the box over the edge of the breakfast bar into the sink. The key chain was out of reach on the floor.
“Oh.” He clutched two handfuls of plastic bags. She would’ve been huffing to carry that much up the stairs, but he hadn’t broken a sweat. “I promise I’ll behave. I swear.”
“What did you bring?” Her shoe found the edge of the glittery heart, and she tugged. The metal slid back toward the bar.
“Steaks,” he said. “Can I set this stuff down?”
“Okay.” She opened the door a little wider to let him through. “You can come in, but I really don’t understand why you’d want to.”
He unloaded the grocery bags on the dining table. “Where’s your dog?”
“She’s by the couch.” Her feelings were jumbled into a mess of confusion and doubt. Hope still lingered at the edges, but was it too late? He knew her secret about the DVDs. By the way he’d stung her this morning, he really didn’t care about the rest. “Why are you here, Sean?”
When he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants, it made his chest muscles bunch together. She remembered the firmness under her fingers, how the flesh wouldn’t give, even when she pushed. He was built so hard.
“When I went to the bookstore, I found the book you had on your coffee table, and I got it.”
“You did?” she asked, wondering why he’d do that.
“I want to know what you like, what interests you have, what you do on Sunday afternoons. Then I thought maybe you were wondering the same things about me. So that’s why you ordered those videos of me. You were too scared to just ask me.”
Abigail looked down at the counter. God, he knew her too well. The emotions were too much, sending her senses into overload. He was everything she wanted yet always seemed just out of her reach.
“You went to the store,” he said. It wasn’t a question but a disappointment. He started unloading her groceries. The idea of hiding sounded even better now. Sean, Mr. Fit-and-Buff, was going to find the tub of chocolate caramel crunch. The last thing she wanted was for him to think he’d gotten to her. She wanted the damn ice cream because it tasted good,
not
because he’d been an asshole to her. “Oh damn, I love this stuff!”
Okay, so Mr. Fit-and-Buff loves chocolate caramel crunch. That does
not
make him absolutely adorable. And hot. And incredibly edible.
“Why do you have dead flowers in your sink?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator door.
Abigail’s heart stopped. “Um, I was pruning my rose bushes and wanted to throw them away.” It was a lame excuse, she knew, but didn’t want to tell him the truth. He’d run.
“Can I throw them out? I need a deep pan, like to boil water in. Where would I find one?”
She didn’t know why he asked when he was already being so nosy, opening and closing cabinets. When he reached up to look in the cabinet above the fridge, the tank top straps stretched to accommodate the muscles on top of his shoulders. Damn, he was gorgeous. And ugly when he was mean. “Sean, why are you here?”
The cabinet snapped closed. “Because I’m hungry, and you wanted me to look at your books. Is it down here?”
He had no intention of giving up so easily. She admired that about him, but at the moment, it was starting make her uncomfortable. “I have a pot in the cabinet under the bar. I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
He passed by her again, sending the same zing between her thighs. If he’d just step a bit closer, she could sniff him like a damn dog. He started unpacking the groceries he’d bought. White paper packages, huge potatoes, and ears of corn on the cob covered the bar.
“Do you have gas for the grill out there?”
“Sean, please.” The soft fabric of her T-shirt felt comforting between her fingertips. Her choices were to either fiddle with it or chew on her already too short nails. “This morning, you said—”
“I found it.” He came up with the pot in his hand. “The day after my tenth birthday, I learned that not every kid had as many uncles as I did.” Water splashed into the bottom of the metal pot. “I figured when the police came to the house and took me away, I’d just go stay with one of my uncles. That’s when I learned what an uncle was. My mom didn’t have any brothers.”
Abigail felt the floor shift.
Sean turned off the water and carried the pot over to the stove. “Sometimes things get all fucked-up, and people get thrown away. You know, like dead flower petals? The nuns at Our Lady of Mercy held the service for her. She’d been there when she was a little girl, I guess. Her mom threw her away too.” The snap of silk and husk being ripped made Abigail look up. “I don’t like what you did, Abigail. I’m not here for your amusement or to play some game. I thought we could be friends. I’ll be the first to admit it’s new territory for me, but I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.” After tossing the ears of corn in the pot of boiling water, he opened the fridge. “I don’t want to throw this away. Do you?”
It was the first time he made eye contact since he started talking. “I…I like you,” she said and made a step closer to the breakfast bar.
The smile that split his sexy lips made her want to smile too. “I like you too.”
“Your mom passed away?” She felt like she didn’t have the right to inquire, seeing as how he just now decided she wasn’t a scumbag.
He tossed a stick of butter in the pot. “She overdosed on heroin. I found her in the morning. I was supposed to go to the bus, but she didn’t wake me up, so I was late.”
She couldn’t get to him fast enough. He huffed when she wrapped her arms around his waist so hard he knocked against the fridge door. “Oh my God, Sean. I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong. I invaded your privacy, and it was wrong. You probably haven’t had a moment’s peace since that day. I-I’m so sorry.” The overwhelming scent of wintergreen and musk filled her nose. She buried her face against his chest, not caring that her tears leaked on the soft material. “You were just a baby.”
“I was old enough to know what had happened. She hadn’t hid her addiction from me for a long time. I called 911 just like I’d learned in school. Hey, it’s done. Shh, it’s okay. Stop crying, baby. It’s okay.”
Warm hands wrapped around her wet cheeks.
Why are my eyes drowning and his are dry?
“It was a long time ago. I just have a hard time trusting people. I’m working on that. You make me want to work on that.”
“Y-You make me want to be brave.”
“I do?”
“Uh-huh. You’re worth it. Oh, Sean. You’re so worth it.”
“Oh, baby, come here.” Strong arms cocooned her. He was strong enough to survive this. Justin had no right to take this away. Nothing on this planet was going to break the fragile pieces of her heart. She hugged him back. “So this means we can be friends?”
Wait, hold the train.
Friends?
“Y-You want to be friends?” Okay, so maybe her heart could be shattered.