Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

I pulled my beanie over my ears and lit a cigarette, waiting. Trenton still hadn’t called back, and I was getting nervous that he wouldn’t be able to come. The twins were halfway to Colorado with some of their fellow Sig Tau alums, and I didn’t trust anyone else to keep Abby safe.

I took several drags, working out the different scenarios in my head if Trenton didn’t call back, and how fucking selfish I was being, requiring her presence in a place where I knew she could be in danger. Complete concentration was needed to win this fight, and that depended on two things: Abby’s presence, and Abby’s safety. If Trenton had to work or didn’t call me back, I’d have to call off the fight. That was the only option.

I took a final drag off the last cigarette in the pack. I’d been so wrapped up in worry, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been smoking. I looked down at my watch. Abby should have gotten out of class by now.

Just then, she called my name.

“Hey, Pigeon.”

“Everything okay?”

“It is now,” I said, pulling her against me.

“Okay. What’s up?”

“Just have a lot on my mind.” I sighed. When she made it known that my answer wasn’t good enough, I continued, “This week, the fight, you being there . . .”

“I told you I would stay home.”

“I need you there, Pidge,” I said, flicking my cigarette to the ground. I watched it disappear into a deep footprint in the snow, and then took Abby’s hand.

“Have you talked to Trent?” she asked.

“I’m waiting for him to call me back.”

America rolled down the window and poked her head out of Shepley’s Charger. “Hurry up! It’s freaking freezing!”

I smiled and opened the door for Abby. While I stared out the window Shepley and America repeated the same conversation they’d had since she learned she would be meeting his parents. Just as we pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, my phone rang.

“What the fuck, Trent?” I asked, seeing his name on the display. “I called you hours ago. It’s not like you’re productive at work or anything.”

“It hasn’t been hours, and I’m sorry. I’ve been at Cami’s.”

“Whatever. Listen, I need a favor. I’ve got a fight next week. I need you to go. I don’t know when it is, but when I call you, I need you there within an hour. Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t know. What’s in it for me?” he teased.

“Can you do it or not, douche bag? Because I need you to keep an eye on Pigeon. Some asshole put his hands on her last time and—”

“What the fuck, Chuck? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Who did it?” Trenton asked, his tone immediately grave.

“I took care of it. So if I call . . . ?”

“Yeah. I mean, of course, little brother, I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Trent.” I clicked my phone shut and leaned my head against the back of the seat.

“Relieved?” Shepley asked, watching my anxiety unwind inside the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it without him there.”

“I told you—” Abby began, but I stopped her.

“Pidge, how many times do I have to say it?”

She shook her head at my impatient tone. “I don’t understand it, though. You didn’t need me there before.”

I turned to her, my finger touching her cheek. She clearly had no idea how deep my feelings ran. “I didn’t know you before. When you’re not there, I can’t concentrate. I’m wondering where you are, what you’re doing . . . if you’re there and I can see you, I can focus. I know it’s crazy, but that’s how it is.”

“And crazy is exactly the way I like it,” she said, leaning up to kiss my lips.

“Obviously,” America muttered under breath.

Before the sun set too far into the horizon, America and Shepley took the Charger south.

Abby shook the Honda keys and smiled. “At least we don’t have to freeze on the Harley.”

I smiled.

Abby shrugged. “Maybe we should, I don’t know, consider getting our own car?”

“After the fight, we’ll go shopping for one. How about that?”

She jumped up, wrapped her arms and legs around me, and covered my cheeks, mouth, and neck with kisses.

I walked up the stairs to the apartment, making a beeline to the bedroom.

Abby and I spent the next four days snuggled up either in the bed, or on the couch with Toto, watching old movies. It made waiting on Adam’s call tolerable.

Finally on Tuesday night, between Boy Meets World reruns, Adam’s number lit up my cell phone’s display. My eyes met Abby’s.

“Yeah?”

“Mad Dog. You’re up in an hour. Keaton Hall. Bring your game face, sweet pea, he’s Hulk Hogan on steroids.”

“See you then.” I stood up, bringing Abby with me. “Change into something warm, baby. Keaton is an old building, and they’ve probably shut off the heaters for break.”

Abby did a little happy dance before jogging down the hall to the bedroom. The corners of my mouth turned up. What other woman would be that excited to see her boyfriend trade punches? No wonder I fell in love with her.

I slipped on a hoodie and my boots, and waited for Abby by the front door.

Jamie McGuire's books