Recovering from the mini big bang took some serious concentration. Luckily, Abram’s mood had turned contemplative on the drive home and neither of us spoke.
Although, halfway through the drive, while we were stuck at a stoplight, he turned to me and said, “Thank you for coming with me. I had a great time.”
I was trapped in the sincerity of his stare, caught in the velvety cadence of his voice, only able to nod dumbly and mutter stupidly, “Great time. I had . . . also.”
He grinned, his features softened by the glow of nearby streetlamps and the red light of the traffic signal, his four-dimensional attractiveness growing to ten dimensions, where the tenth were those pesky infinite possibilities and I was suffocating in the tenderness of his big, gorgeous, ten-dimensional brown eyes.
Oh my heart.
But then the light changed and he gave the road his attention, leaving me to my entropy. Thank goodness we still had several blocks before the house. I required both the dark and the quiet to order my thoughts.
Closing my eyes, I frantically tried imagining the vastness of space. Like earlier in the day, I worked to put facts first and events into perspective. I reminded myself that I didn’t belong here, that this was Lisa’s reality and not mine. That Helped.
I reminded myself of Gabby’s advice, that he wasn’t the type of person I wanted to have feelings for. That also helped even if I didn’t 100 percent believe it.
The crack had widened, the mutinous bargaining voice had grown more persistent, leaving me with an undercurrent of agitation instead of peace, and wishing instead of acceptance.
As soon as Abram pulled into the street parking outside our house, I was out of the car, walking to the gate and punching in the code. By the time he’d sauntered to where I stood holding the gate open, I had a plan. Once we made it inside, I was going upstairs and going to bed. I hadn’t been sleeping well, and lack of sleep could lead to poor decisions.
Abram said nothing as we walked up the stairs to the front door, and I kept my eyes firmly fixed forward, my jaw clenched, my hands fisted at my sides. No matter what, you will go upstairs and go to bed. By yourself.
He withdrew the keys and unlocked the door; I felt his eyes move over me just before opening the door. “You want to watch a movie?”
I waited until we were inside and I’d slipped my shoes off before answering. “Um, no thanks.” Without turning, I added, “I think I might go to sleep.”
I sensed that this answer seemed to take him aback, as though it had been exactly the opposite of what he’d been expecting. I took advantage of his momentary confusion and turned for the kitchen, my brain telling me to go, go, go!
Even so, my movements were sluggish. The logical path was forward, I knew that. Nothing could ever happen between us, I knew that too. Watching a movie with Abram would undoubtedly lead to not watching the movie while still being with Abram.
But to what end? The way he’d been teasing me all day, the easy banter, how I caught him looking at me in the bookstore and over dinner, how I’d undeniably been looking at him in the same way. I wasn’t stupid. All the variables plugged into an equation that equaled mutual attraction.
This wasn’t a crush, this was requited desire and reciprocated like. Kissing, unscripted touching, gazing, whispers. . . I was near dizzy at the thought. But in this specific case, that also totaled certain disaster.
He’s not a person you want to have feelings for.
And yet, I wanted.
Something is wrong with me.
“You’re tired?” he asked, following me into the kitchen and to the back stairs.
Offering just my profile, I shrugged noncommittally, because I wasn’t tired enough to sleep and I didn’t want to lie to him anymore, not even a white lie. Placing my hand on the banister, a twisting in my stomach made me pause just for a moment as I prepared to launch myself up the first flight.
But before I could climb the first step, he covered my hand, stopping me. A warm, electric current traveled up my arm, weaving itself into my bloodstream and brain. I glanced at his hand on top of mine, and the mutinous whispers returned. Another something terrible had happened: I officially liked it when Abram touched me.
Meanwhile, he hesitated for the span of a breath, and then stepped close. So close, I felt his chest against my back, his thighs against my backside. Abram pulled my hair to the side and the fall of hot breath against my neck caused the most potent and delectable involuntary shiver of my life.
Holy hadron collider.
I was a solution, he was a solute, and total saturation was on my mind.
“Care for company?” he whispered before I’d recovered, his lips just barely against the shell of my ear.
Holy hadron collider, indeed.
The fragrance of him invaded my good sense and for a moment I lost my breath. My breasts swelled, heavy and needy and hot, my nipples tightening into little beads, pressing against the lace bra. I felt the silk of the shirt everywhere it met my skin. He was close, so close, touching, right there and my eyelids fluttered under the weight of such heavenly sensory overload.
And yet, even under attack, my good sense held firm, buffered by a grim sense of certainty: I didn’t believe Gabby, that Abram would be fine with a fling. I didn’t. He liked me. This was as real for him as it was for me. What was happening between us wasn’t something Lisa would be able to just call off when she took my place.
And that meant I would not be able to live with myself if I allowed him to believe anything between us was a possibility. That would be the same as leading him on, as using him.
My foolish heart, however, thought his idea was great. In fact, it had decided to hatch an escape plan and was currently attempting to beat itself out of my chest. Oh please oh please oh please say yes!
I cleared my throat, concentrating on the grim resolve. “Company?” The question was just above a whisper, because I couldn’t manage much else. Gravity had seemed to reverse, or become centripetal in nature, pulling me in all directions at once.
“I could read you a bedtime story, from your new book.” Knuckles brushed softly against the skin of my neck, the silk of my shirt, and then down my bare arm, raising goose bumps in their path. “Or I could sing you a song.”
Oh no. Do not want! If Gabby was to be believed, I wouldn’t be able to withstand an Abram talent-assault in addition to the rest of what I knew about him. Usually, musicians held no allure for me. But Abram was breaking the mold on all my usuallys.
Grasping that grim resolve, I slid my hand from beneath his on the banister, folded my arms over my chest (to conceal that situation), and turned to face him.
Swallowing the rocks in my throat, I asked, “Are you flirting with me?”
Two dimples, an unhidden smile given freely, gorgeous brown eyes caressing my face.
This is hard. So hard.
“You have to ask?” he said. Flirtatiously.
Despite the disobedient—and therefore destructive—thrill his nonadmission elicited, I cleared my throat and forced myself to say, “Do you think that’s appropriate?”
He blinked, his grin faltering, but only a little. “Appropriate?”
“Yes.” Crowbarring indignation into my voice I didn’t feel, I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be the adult here? Ensuring I don’t get into trouble or harm myself? For all intents and purposes, you’re in charge of me, reporting back to my parents about my behavior. They trust you with my well-being. Leo trusts you. Therefore, let me ask you again: do you think flirting with someone you’re in charge of is appropriate?”
Abram flinched back, taking two shuffling steps away as I spoke. At first, his eyebrows lifted, but then they lowered into a severe line over his darkening eyes.
“Are you . . . are you kidding?”