“No, you just treat me like your property. You had no right to run Ethan off like that!”
“Do you know who Ethan is?” When she shook her head, I leaned in. “I do. He was arrested last year for sexual battery, but the charges were dropped.”
She crossed her arms. “Oh, so you have something in common?”
A red veil covered my eyes, and for less than a second, the rage inside me boiled over. I took a deep breath, willing it away. “Are you calling me a rapist?”
Abby paused in thought, and her hesitation made the anger melt away. She was the only one that had that effect on me. Every other time I’d been that angry, I had punched something or someone. I had never hit a woman, but I would have definitely taken a swing at the truck parked next to us.
“No, I’m just pissed at you!” she said, pressing her lips together.
“I’ve been drinking, all right? Your skin was three inches from my face, and you’re beautiful, and you smell fucking awesome when you sweat. I kissed you! I’m sorry! Get over yourself!”
My answer made her pause, and the corners of her mouth turned up. “You think I’m beautiful?”
I frowned. What a stupid question. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. What are you smiling about?”
The harder she tried not to smile, the more she did. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
I laughed once, and then shook my head. “Wha . . . ? You . . . ? You’re a pain in my ass!”
She was grinning from ear to ear from my compliment, and the fact that I had gone from psycho to ridiculous in less than five minutes. She tried to stop smiling, and, in turn, that made me smile.
I hooked my arm around her neck, wishing to God I had just kissed her. “You’re making me crazy. You know that, right?”
The ride home was quiet, and when we finally arrived at the apartment, Abby went straight to the bathroom, turning on the shower. My mind was too fuzzy to rifle through her shit, so I grabbed a pair of my boxers and a T-shirt. I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer, so I went ahead and walked in, laid it on the sink, and then left. I wasn’t sure what to say to her anyway.
She walked in, swallowed by my clothes, and fell into bed, a residual smile still on her face.
I watched her for a moment, and she stared back, clearly wondering what I was thinking. The trouble was, even I didn’t know. Her eyes slowly traveled down my face to my lips, and then I knew.
“Night, Pidge,” I whispered, turning over, cussing at myself like never before. She was incredibly drunk, though, and I wasn’t going to take advantage. Especially not after she’d forgiven me for the spectacle I’d made with Megan.
Abby fidgeted for several minutes before finally taking a breath. “Trav?” She leaned up on her elbow.
“Yeah?” I said, not moving. I was afraid if I looked into her eyes, all rational thought would go out the window.
“I know I’m drunk, and we just got into a ginormous fight over this, but . . .”
“I’m not having sex with you, so quit asking.”
“What? No!”
I laughed and turned, looking at her sweet, horrified expression. “What, Pigeon?”
“This,” she said, laying her head on my chest and stretching her arm across my stomach, hugging me close.
Not what I was expecting. At all. I held up my hand and froze in place, unsure what the hell to do. “You are drunk.”
“I know,” she said, shameless.
No matter how pissed she would be in the morning, I couldn’t say no. I relaxed one hand against her back, and the other on her wet hair, and then kissed her forehead. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met.”
“It’s the least you can do after scaring off the only guy that approached me tonight.”
“You mean Ethan the rapist? Yeah, I owe you for that one.”
“Never mind,” she said, beginning to pull away.
My reaction was instantaneous. I held her arm against my stomach. “No, I’m serious. You need to be more careful. If I wasn’t there . . . I don’t even want to think about it. And now you expect me to apologize for running him off?”
“I don’t want you to apologize. It’s not even about that.”
“Then what’s it about?” I asked. I’d never begged for anything in my life, but I was silently begging for her to tell me she wanted me. That she cared about me. Something. We were so close. It would just take another inch or so for our lips to touch, and it was a mental feat not to give in to that inch.
She frowned. “I’m drunk, Travis. It’s the only excuse I have.”
“You just want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”
She didn’t answer.
I turned, looking straight into her eyes. “I should say no to prove a point,” I said, my eyebrows pulling together. “But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never asked me again.”
She happily nestled her cheek against my chest. With my arms wrapped around her tight, it was hard to keep it together. “You don’t need an excuse, Pigeon. All you have to do is ask.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Oz