A Long Time Coming (6 page)

“Yeah right,” he snorted, eyes
burning, head still pulsating in his temples. She was right on one aspect. He
needed those damn pills still. Badly.

He made it to his feet,
swaying slightly to the side, just as she reached out a hand to steady him. Her
brows drifted together, her lips were pursed to kill. All sass and spice, the
girl was straight up sex in a sweater dress. “And what is that supposed to
mean?” She stood with her hands at her hips. David narrowed his eyes as the V
in her neckline dipped lower. He traced the edge with his gaze, wishing it was
his fingers instead.

“It just means that you’re
trying to mess with my head.”

She scoffed, pressing her hand
just over the dip of that crack he wanted to keep ogling. Damn, that was twice
now in two seconds that he imagined touching that very spot. This time though,
he wasn’t about to use his hands… He sucked in a gasp and released a quiet
groan at the thought. Yeah, he was in a shit ton of trouble with this girl. But
really though, what was new? Slipping his crutches under his arms, he tightened
his grip around the handles to keep his fingers from reaching out for her.

“Messing with your head? You
call trying to get your ass up and out of here and home, messing with your
head? You’re delusional, David.” She pursed her lips, and turned, stomping away
as she left. He shut his eyes, needing to keep himself steady, but needing to
go after her even more.

“Shit, Abigail, wait up! I’m
sorry… I’m always screwing up,” which was the main reason why he’d stayed away
in the first place.

“Yeah, you’ve got that right,”
she stood in the doorway of the room, with her back to him, shaking her head.
She didn’t turn around, but he could tell she was pissed all the same. Her body
was rigid, angry. He didn’t need to see her face to know that. Abigail had
always been a body language kind of girl.

He sighed, this was good, and
for the best too. When she was pissed at him, it made the whole staying away
thing that much easier. Although easy was a far cry from the truth of what he
wanted to do. “Come on,” she groaned, “I’m taking you home now,” she glanced
back over her shoulder at him, just briefly, “or do I need to call your mom
instead…?”

He narrowed his eyes at her
profile. Damn, the girl played dirty still, didn’t she? “No. No
Mom
. Just…let’s
go,” he shook his head, “I don’t want to—”

“Yeah, yeah draw attention to
yourself. I got it.” She waved a hand through the air, turning away again.
David’s shoulders slumped, and he groaned under his breath. Hell yeah she did.
There was nobody else who
got it
better than she did, and that’s what
sucked the most.

Chapter Six

It was after nine when Abigail
had left to go to the party. Her mom was already in bed, while her dad was
working in his office. She hadn’t even bothered saying goodbye to either of
them. Nobody would have noticed anyways, so what was the point in wasting the
extra words and breaths?

The house where the party was
taking place had been jam–packed with barely any room to walk, let alone
mingle. She’d managed to grab a bottle of water before heading to find her
position for the night, gulping it down in little time. She was in her element
here—with people—it’s what she did best; what she always enjoyed. But the
moment she found the room with the two dirty skanks surrounding a face planting
David, she knew that her night of intended socialization had just turned into a
night of insanity instead.

But it wasn’t the girls that
worried her, or the part about seeing David either. It was his passing out and
mini seizure thing that had her freaking. His face had been white, his eyes
half–opened and his mouth clenched shut as his body shuddered in a back and
forth motion on the carpet. In that moment she knew, without a doubt, that he
hadn’t been taking his meds; the meds that only his mom, dad, and she knew
about.

His accident had not only
caused his amputation, but it had also caused some long–term brain and skull
damage as well. It wasn’t anything major—according to Mrs. A, that is—but it
was enough of an issue that the doctors required him to go on meds for several
years afterwards to help with the migraines and seizures. She’d only just
recently found this out, but it was still hard to take and even harder to
fathom that after all this time, he was suffering continuing effects from that
horrid accident.

The hardest part about the
whole situation was not being able to tell Harley about the head issues her
brother was dealing with, especially since she was his twin and they were so
close. But Abigail had sworn up and down on her grandfather’s grave that the
secret was theirs to keep. David didn’t want to worry Harley more than she
already did. It just reaffirmed what she already knew: David was one hell of a
standup guy. And that idea added fuel to the fire, making her love him even more
than she already did.

She’d immediately gone into
healing–nurse mode when she saw him lying there, pushing tramp–alicious one and
two out of her way so she could get to his side. They obliged, looking all too
freaked out when she demanded one or both of them to get her a cold rag. They’d
done what she’d told them to do and then thankfully scooted their denim asses
out of there, taking the crowd of onlookers that had started to hover with
them. David would have freaked the hell out if all those people had been around
when he’d awakened.

It scared her seeing him like
that though—terrified was a better word for it actually. The last thing she’d
wanted was to meet up with him again in
that
sort of way. She’d had all
sorts of awesome reuniting visions going on in her loony brain, but in all of
her dreams, both awake and asleep, this was
not
the way she pictured
them back together again after a two month long hiatus.

She would have preferred
keeping his head in her lap all night, just so she could tangle her fingers in
his dark curls. But she also knew how adamant he was about keeping a distance
from her. He’d said that before though, and then their relationship had changed
for good.

But as she drove him home, the
silence between them consumed her completely. She didn’t know if she should
talk, or cry, or scream. This thing between them was tearing her into tiny bits
of emotional shrapnel, delving so deep into her skin that she couldn’t possibly
dig it out if she tried. She wanted their
old
relationship back. The one
that hadn’t been messed up by one night of kick–ass, too–good–to–ever–pass–up
sex.

That night had been the best
of her life. But it had obviously been her worst mistake, too, because now, he
would barely even look at her, let alone speak to her.

“So,” he finally cleared his
throat, leaning his head against the window. The dark shadows of the car
covered his cheeks, but the outline of his sculpted jaw was just as perfect as
ever, as the lights from the dashboard reflected against his face. He was so beautiful,
even in the dark. And guys were never beautiful to her—hot, sexy, sinful—but
nobody took the title of beautiful like David did. “Have you talked to Harley
lately?”

She smiled. Safe subjects were
good. She could deal with safe. Anything beyond that was off limits. “Um, not
for a week or so, but I
am
going out there over Labor Day weekend,” she
shrugged, flipping on her blinker as she turned the car down his street.

“You’re
what
?” He sat
up straight, the air in the car practically extinguished as he snarled, “Why?
Why do you need to go out there? There’s nothing there for you. California is a
vast wasteland full of surfer guys who use and abuse their women!”

Her jaw fell open as she
glanced quickly again at his stiff frame. No. No way was he going to play the
jealous card on her. “Well maybe I
want
to be corrupted,” she nibbled on
her lip. This wasn’t the perfect time to tease him, and she knew she was
stirring a pot of bullshit and she had no idea why she was doing it. But his
jealous side was an emotion she secretly appreciated, and she’d definitely
continue to play off it if it got a rise out of him.

“You…what…I mean…” he shook
his head. “Seriously, Abigail…after everything my sister went through with
that…that…
guy
? You really think that’s the place you need to go to find
a good screw?”

She gritted her teeth. Jesus,
he was going to play hardball, wasn’t he? But instead of pitching him slow
balls, she’d ignore his digs and handle it like a major leaguer. “Yes I’m as
serious as a heart attack, David. Besides that, Harley has never been happier.
You know this as much as I do.” She shrugged one of her shoulders, pulling her
lips between her teeth to keep from smiling. Oh boy how she loved getting under
his skin.

“You just…I mean…” he groaned,
throwing his head back against the seat. “Have you ever even flown in an
airplane by yourself?”

She nodded, pulling into the
driveway. He was struggling for words and she’d never heard anything more
adorable in her life. “Um, yeah, I have. What do you care anyways?”

He growled, “I care, because I
worry about you. And because I love…”

Her arms stiffened. No. He
wouldn’t… She held her breath, waiting. But he didn’t finish, and somehow or
another she’d managed to make it to his driveway without losing her head in a
spinning frenzy. What the hell? No way, he did not almost just tell her that he
loved her. She had to have been too tired, or losing her hearing, right?

“Never mind,” he finally spat,
already reaching around for the crutches in the back seat. His face was lit by
the interior lights, and she’d never seen it look harder, and more pissed off.
She swallowed a huge, disappointed lump in her throat. Of course he wouldn’t
have said it. What was she thinking?

One thing was for sure though,
they could absolutely not go another two months without talking or seeing each
other. More importantly she knew they couldn’t end the night like this. Her
chest ached, and her eyes watered already. But she wouldn’t let the tears pool
up just yet.

“Thanks for the—”

“David I—”

“No,” he stopped, turning to
face her full on. “I don’t need any excuses from you.” His voice softened. He
sounded so tired, like he could barely form the words to speak anymore. “Do
what you want, Abigail, I’m not your keeper and you obviously want to visit my
sister, so…” He paused, his face paling even more as he pinched the bridge of
his nose. His other hand was outstretched, already reaching for the door
handle, his crutches hung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” she swallowed. Her
voice was soft as she reached for his forearm. He froze, staring down at her
hand with expression–filled, heavenly brown eyes that she could still envision
darkening as they’d made love. She shook her head.
Not the time to think
about that, Abigail…
“Are you going to be okay?”

She swallowed hard, watching
as he blinked over at her, refocusing again. His sinfully long lashes sheltered
the innocence in his gaze that she so longed to dig out again. But there was
another emotion he held in there too…an emotion that shook her core, to the
point of no return. And if she could have frozen her insides to keep her body
from combusting, she probably would have. Because right there, in his perfect,
flawed gaze, she saw love—simple, but powerful love that mirrored hers
completely.

Jesus…why was he doing this?
Didn’t he know that her heart would always and forever belong to him? Why did
he always fight what was so real and ready to be consumed? She gulped. Their eyes
never wavered, simmering as one in the small space of the car. The temperature
was about a zillion degrees in there, and her body was on fire with both her
need for him, and hatred towards the fact that he was still pushing her away.
And just as she opened her mouth to tell him not to go, to tell him she
couldn’t live without him anymore, and to berate him for staying away for so
long as it was, he was looking away, closing off from her once again. And then
he was opening the door, throwing his crutches onto the ground, only to stand
with his back to her. Dammit. He was leaving her. He was
always
walking
away. Why…why? She didn’t care how many legs he had. She didn’t care if he had
a messed up brain either. She loved him for who he was, for the guy that she
knew he always would be.

She reached for the door
handle, wanting nothing more than to cry after him. Scream at him. She wanted
to throw something, and then race after him and kiss the hell out of his
perfect mouth. But she also loved him enough to respect his wishes, too. So for
now, she’d continue to bide her time.

He slammed the door in her
face, no goodbyes, no thank you. Nothing. She watched him as he slowly made his
way toward his front door, just barely making out the sight of his arms shaking
at his sides. He was slower than she’d remembered him being, and fear gripped
her chest as she studied his upper frame. It was more than obvious he was
hurting still. Sure, he’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want her help,
or her sympathy, but damn if her instincts weren’t screaming at her to do
something about it anyways.

She dropped her hand onto the
steering wheel, clenching her fingers around the leather. Her jaw locked as she
turned to focus on the darkened road in front of her. She was pissed, aching
with need, and now, more than ever, ready to take her ass to California.

But then again, running wasn’t
about to solve anything.