A Long Time Coming (5 page)

Chapter Five

“Holy shit, look at this
place!” JT gaped as they pulled up to the lake house. The crimson moon
reflected easily from the North Lake waters. Trees hung almost soulfully over
the edges. Ironically, for as long as David had lived in Hillsdale, this was
honestly the first time he’d been to one of these mega–mansions hidden deep in
the woods on the lakeside.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
David cringed, sinking back into his seat. This wasn’t a good idea.

The three guys continued to
gasp and holler from their windows, but David was simply having trouble keeping
his heart under control. Dammit—he wasn’t a weak ass, but this simple, social
situation was apparently about to prove him wrong.

Carson and Paul rambled on
about the owners of the house being some out of town, wealthy real estate
investors, while JT whistled and pounded on the wheel with every fourth beat of
the song blaring from the speakers. David knew it was the fourth beat because
his dumbass was keeping time with it. He always kept time anymore, especially
when his head was in knots with one of his impending migraines in the works.
Guess the keeping time thing was his very own version of a countdown to when
the headaches would take over his skull completely.

The headaches had been a
lingering side effect from the accident since day one, probably from his skull
being beaten in at the side. No matter what pills his mom tried to shove down
his throat, those headaches almost always consumed him once they took hold.
Jesus! He had to get through this night though. He wasn’t about to be a pansy
in front of
these
guys.

Glasses Paul got out of the
car before it even came to a complete stop, but Carson took a little while,
huffing and puffing as he simply struggled to keep his pants from falling down.
JT on the other hand, waited patiently for David to get his stuff together,
still beating the wheel even after the music ended.

David had debated on leaving
the crutches at home. He had that mentality of: the less attention the better.
But the benefits far outweighed the cons, and the last thing he wanted was to
get his ass stuck if he had a cramp or if the headaches consumed his head
completely and he couldn’t walk straight. He was so fucked up anymore, that it
wasn’t even funny.

“You all right, David?”

Slowly angling his head to the
side, staring at the darkened, concerned face of JT, he groaned out through his
gritted teeth, “I’ll live.” Their eyes held for a second longer, before
laughter erupted from JT’s mouth only a miniscule second later. David didn’t
see anything funny about what he’d said, but then again, his humor had long ago
vanished.

“Dude, seriously, you crack my
ass up,” JT pushed against his shoulder, gasping for breath as he continued to
laugh, “let’s get moving. I really need a drink!”

And he was out of his seatbelt
and then his door seconds later, bouncing up and down like he was preparing for
battle. David shook his head, slowly following in his wake. This was about to
get interesting…

“You need help or something?”
JT hollered over the top of the roof at him.

David frowned in response,
shaking his head. “I’ve had two years of practice, I’m good.” David sighed,
only half joking. JT nodded, and laughed some more before going back to his
bouncing. David narrowed his eyes, the dude was either jacked up on life, or
high on something instead.

He shook his head and sighed.
Now how in the holy hell was he going to get his ass home if it was the latter?

They made it inside the two
story home, instantly bombarded with the scent of stale beer, cigarettes, and sweat.
David glanced around curiously, checking for any familiar faces, but seeing
nobody who looked even remotely recognizable. That alone made this night a
success. “You want a beer or something?” JT yelled over the loud bass pulsating
through the air, his eyes scoping the room like a hawk in need of some serious
dinner, or some serious game was more like it.

David shook his head no,
motioning towards a room that seemed as far from people as he could get. JT
nodded, and was off towards the kitchen seconds later. The house was
unbelievably huge. Open rooms galore with pieces of furniture that probably
cost more than his house in general. David crutched his way to his intended
destination, careful not to step on anything—or anyone for that matter. Girls
littered the hall and guys littered the floor with their tongues, lips and
hands in places he hadn’t seen or touched in months. . It would have been
funny—entertaining even—if his head hadn’t been throbbing like a bitch the
moment he made it to the room he’d chosen as his escape. He stopped in front of
a flower–covered futon, pinching the bridge of his nose as the pain
intensified. His eyes started to blur and he pressed his hand against the wall
of the room over the couch, hoping like hell he’d keep his balance long enough
to sit down.

He finally turned, falling
back against the seat. Throwing his head back, he managed to stretch out his
legs to relax, just as a few girls sauntered into the room. Their giggles were
high pitched, and before he actually looked up at them, he knew they’d
approached his side. His eyes were apparently determined to stay closed until
further notice though.

“Hey sweetie, you want some
company?” The giggles continued just as the futon indented on both sides of his
body. Two sets of hands immediately took hold of him, one on his shoulders, the
other dangerously close to places they didn’t belong.

He cringed, sitting up, more
scared that they’d find out about his secret missing leg than anything. “Uh,
no, I’m good by myself,” truth be told, he wanted to get the hell out of this
place before he passed out and didn’t wake up again.

“Aw, but you’re so cute,” one
girl giggled with a tiny squeak. He finally peeked through his lids, noting
tube tops, denim skirts, and four legs that were as long as his own, or they at
least
looked
that way. He swallowed—he was hurting like a bitch—but he
was a guy too; a guy who hadn’t had this much attention from girls in months.

He sat up, attempting to keep
his temperature down before his body decided to stir up some serious–ass
trouble. “So, you from around here?” He turned to face Blondie number one
first. She was a Barbie to a T, but she was too plastic for his taste as well.
Too much makeup, too much red shit on her lips.

“Yeah, I grew up in
Hillsdale,” he cleared his throat, lowering his elbows to his knees. They let
go briefly, but like Siamese twins, they moved in on him in unison, matching
his position once more.

“Well, we are just in town
visiting, and we were looking for some corn–fed boys to treat us both to a good
time,” he looked towards number two, feeling suddenly pissed at himself for not
feeling a damn thing towards either of them. He was a dude, and here were two
gorgeous girls who were practically throwing themselves at him. Why the
hell
did he not give a shit? Did his dick get cut off after the accident too?
His eyes widened at that thought. Yeah, he knew from experience that hadn’t
happened, but still, it almost felt that way as he sat there between their
tight little bodies.

“God, you poor thing…you’re
missing a leg? What happened?” he turned, his face reddening in shock as he
faced the girl on his left, the girl who currently had her foot up his pant leg
and onto his fake leg.

He groaned and shut his eyes
as the other girl leaned forward to obviously take a better look herself. Fuck,
this wasn’t happening! “Oh honey, we can make you feel better. We can make you
forget, too.” Righty blonde smiled seductively at him, winking.

He shook his head, wincing as
the pain radiated down his neck from his head. Holy hell, he was going to die
of either embarrassment or a migraine tonight. “Tell us what happened, won’t
you?” He couldn’t decipher who was talking at that point, nor could he decipher
whose hand was currently making its way up his inner thigh. Hell, was it both
of their hands? The room spun so bad that he could no longer see straight. And
was he imagining the sensation of fingertips on his zipper too?

He pressed both of his knuckles
into his forehead, biting his lip as they leaned in—both of them—pressing their
sticky lips against his neck. Fuck his life. Fuck this! He was experiencing a
walking wet dream in the making, and all he could think about was how in the
hell he was going to get them off of him and ease the torture in his head!

“Tell me what your name is,
sexy?” One leaned in further to ask. He shook his head, groaning in response.
They giggled in unison, obviously thinking he was enjoying their little ploy.

He glanced upwards, blinking
lights flashed in front of his eyes. His heart leapt into his throat, his
stomach churned with the remnants of his dinner. Then a vision appeared before
him in the door. Hell, maybe he was just hallucinating after all. And just as
he called her name, he fell to the floor on his face, his world blackening away
to nothingness.

* * *

A soft, cool compress, warm
hands brushing the matted curls from his head—hell yeah, now
this
was a
dream he could get used to. Soft whispers and the scent of warm cinnamon
covered his mouth and nose as her voice settled over him. Holy shit. He was in
dessert heaven here.

“Hey, David, please open your
eyes. I need to get you home, okay? We’ve got to get your pills…”

Since when did she talk in his
dreams? God though, her voice was as soft and as sweet as the last time they’d
been together. Three months. Two long, agonizing months since he’d touched her
last—since he’d left his heart with her for good. Fate was being a motherfucker
if it was going to continue teasing him like this.

“Seriously, wake up, please.”
He blinked. An instant burning sensation rocketed through his skull. Fucking
hell, he wasn’t dreaming, he was dying, right there in the arms of an angel. He
grinned, wincing too as the pain crept back into his skull. It was okay though,
because he was going to die one hell of a happy guy.

“Abigail,” he sighed, unable
to stop his hand from reaching for her neck. He felt her shiver as his
fingertips traced her collar bone. His eyes were still blurry, but he could
just barely make out her pale skin, her wet, bright blue eyes.
Stunning…absolutely
stunning
. He stiffened, wincing more as he fully focused upon her face.
Shit, why was she crying? He hated when she cried. “Don’t cry,” he croaked out,
finally seeing her perfect face. She pressed her palms to his cheeks and
squeezed. The cool wet rag still sat in her hand, and water dripped like tiny
pebbles down onto his neck.

“Well you dumbass, when you
fall on your face in the middle of the room between the skank ho twins, I kind
of have a reason to cry. You scared the crap out of me.”

He grinned, loving her
jealousy. It meant she was still as crazy about him as he was her—even though
he knew, without a doubt, that she was way better off without him. “Skank ho
twins, huh?” He laughed, reaching up to grip her hands with his own. He pulled
them against his chest, pressing her palms over the steady beat of his heart.
She narrowed her eyes, but her lips quirked into a smile that had his entire
body thrumming. “You know I don’t like to garden, Abs. I’m more of a meat and
potato kind of guy,” he winked, smiling as she giggled. It was the sound of
deliciousness. The sound of all things perfect.

“Come on, super stud; let’s
get you home, okay?” Her face turned serious, and she brushed a piece of his
hair from his temple. She bit her lip… Was that sudden longing appearing behind
her blue–grey eyes? God he hoped he wasn’t just imagining it, experiencing it
alone here.

He held her stare, needing her
to lower her mouth, needing to feel her lips just one more time. He’d spent one
night with those lips, but he should have known that
one night
would
never be enough. Maybe, just this one more time was all he needed, right? Then
he’d never ask for anything, ever again. “Abigail…” he whispered longingly,
stroking her fingers with his. She blinked and a sudden knowledge appeared
throughout her face. Her mouth formed a tiny O, and her face darkened to a red
that matched her lips. She was his untouchable perfection, and the only girl
who would ever make his heart beat like it was again.

“Don’t, David…” she sighed,
closing her eyes just as one last random tear dripped from her left lid. His
throat constricted at the sight. Okay, he was officially the biggest son of a
bitch. Ever.

He finally gained enough
balance to push away from her warmth, just as a rush of blood raced to his
face. The dizziness grabbed at his vision, but he pushed through it because he
had to get up, he had to go. “I’ve got to find my ride. What time is it?” He
scooted off her lap, noting the hot pink, sweater dress barely covering her
firm, toned thighs. He wanted to rub his hands over them, the sight of their
smoothness teased his fingertips and he instantly groaned, looking away to find
his crutches.

“Be careful,” she whispered,
standing up herself. She reached down to grab his arms, most likely to help him
up, but he nudged her away. Not hard, but enough to let her know that the
touching thing was off limits again. “Don’t be stubborn, David. I’m just trying
to help.”