Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

“Well . . . no, not exactly,” she said, pulling off her heels.

I could barely contain the smile that inched across my face. “So you wanted to be here with me. I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

Abby kicked her heels into the closet. “How are you not mad right now?”

I sighed. Maybe I should’ve been mad. But I just . . . wasn’t. “That’s pretty big, Pidge. You should have told me. But I understand why you didn’t. You came here to get away from all of that. It’s like the sky opened up. Everything makes sense, no w.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Lucky Thirteen,” I said, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head.

“Don’t call me that, Travis. It’s not a good thing.”

“You’re fucking famous, Pigeon!” I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down around her ankles, helping her to step out of them.

“My father hated me after that. He still blames me for all his problems.”

I yanked off my shirt and hugged her to me, impatient to feel her skin against mine. “I still can’t believe the daughter of Mick Abernathy is standing in front of me, and I’ve been with you this whole time and had no idea.”

She pushed me away. “I’m not Mick Abernathy’s daughter, Travis! That’s what I left behind. I’m Abby. Just Abby!” she said, walking over to the closet. She yanked a T-shirt off its hanger and pulled it over her head.

“I’m sorry. I’m a little starstruck.”

“It’s just me!” She held the palm of her hand to her chest, an edge of desperation in her voice.

“Yeah, but . . .”

“But nothing. The way you’re looking at me right now? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” She closed her eyes. “I won’t live like that anymore, Trav. Not even with you.”

“Whoa! Calm down, Pigeon. Let’s not get carried away.” I took her in my arms, suddenly worried where the conversation was going. “I don’t care what you were or what you’re not anymore. I just want you.”

“I guess we have that in common, then.”

I pulled her gently to the bed, and then snuggled next to her, taking in the faint smell of cigar mixed with her shampoo. “It’s just you and me against the world, Pidge.”

She curled up beside me, seeming satisfied with my words. When she relaxed against my chest, she sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want anyone to know, Trav. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I love you, Abby. I won’t mention it again, okay? Your secret’s safe with me,” I said, pressing my lips gently against her temple.

She nuzzled her cheek against my skin, and I pulled her tight. The night’s events seemed like a dream. The first time I bring a girl home, and not only is she the daughter of a famous poker player, but she could also easily bankrupt us all in a single hand. For being the family fuckup, I felt like I had finally gained a little respect from my older brothers. And it was all because of Abby.

I lie in bed awake, unable to stop my mind long enough to doze off. Abby’s breathing had evened out half an hour before.

My cell lit up and buzzed just once, signaling a text message. I opened it up, and immediately frowned. The sender’s name scrolled across: Jason Brazil.

Dude. Parker’s talkin smack.



Very carefully, I pulled my arm out from under Abby’s head to use both hands to type a message back.

Says who?

Says me hes sittin right here.



Oh yeah? Whats he sayin?

Its about Pigeon. U sure u wanna know?



Dont b a dick.

He sd shes still calling him.



Negative.

Sd earlier hes waiting 4 u to screw up, and shes just waitin for a good time to kick u 2 the curb.



Did he now?

Sd just now that she told him the other day she was really unhappy but u were kinda crazy and she was worried about when to do it.



If she wasnt laying next to me id come over there n beat his fkn ass

Not worth it. We all know hes full of shit.



Still pisses me off

I heard that. Don’t worry about the douche canoe. U got ur girl next 2 u.





Had Abby not been sleeping beside me, I would have jumped on my bike and went straight to the Sig Tau house and shoved my fist through Parker’s five-thousand-dollar grill. Maybe taken a bat to his Porsche.

Half an hour passed before the rage shakes finally began to subside. Abby hadn’t moved. That same subtle noise that she made with her nose when she slept helped to slow my heart rate, and before long I was able to take her back into my arms and relax.

Abby wasn’t calling Parker. If she was unhappy, she would have told me. I took a deep breath and watched the shadow of the tree outside dance against the wall.


“HE DIDN’T,” SHEPLEY SAID, STOPPING MIDSTEP.

The girls left us at the apartment alone so they could shop for a dress for the date party, so I talked Shepley into driving us to the local furniture store.

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