11. Abbie
Abbie
Abbie
You’re not alone now, are you?
Over the next day, I think of that again and again. You’re not alone now, are you? Because I came out here to be alone. And yet Reed telling me that I’m not alone feels like the most comforting thing that’s ever been said.
Maybe because I wasn’t just seeking solitude—I was seeking safety. And I found that here, even though I’m not alone. Because he is what feels safe now.
Reed Knowles.
He’s working at the table when I finish his book after dinner, then sit staring into the fire. I can see exactly what he means about catharsis. Although his catharsis probably looked different, there’s so much in the story that resonates with me. Sometimes painfully. Probably because there’s so much truth in what he’s written. So much truth, in a book about vampires.
I don’t know if I’ll give fiction in general another whirl. But I’ll definitely keep reading his.
And I can’t hear him typing. I peek around the side of my armchair, find him looking at me, his headphones set aside. So he’s done for the night. I hold up his book.
“I finished. Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.” He rises from the table and casually says, “Especially if you say that after reading my prose, you’ve fallen violently in love with me.”
Blindsided. “Do you want me to fall in love with you?”
He stops dead in the center of the cabin. Staring at me. First with surprise—because I’m guessing he threw out that violently in love thing as a self-deprecating joke, considering that he’d called the book rough around the edges, but he wasn’t expecting my response—then with a sudden, piercing longing.
As if he does want me to fall in love with him.
I don’t know what to do. Or say. My heart’s hammering away—with excitement or terror. I’m not sure which. Maybe both.
Reed blinks. The longing recedes and his gaze sharpens. Perhaps seeing my own startled response. “Too soon?” he says gruffly.
I nod. Trying to catch my breath. “Too soon.”
“So we’re talking about the book?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” He scoops me out of my chair, turns and sits—holding me curled up on his lap. I feel like my heart rate might never calm down. “This all right?”
“Yes.” More than all right. “Hot Biscuit Slim might get jealous, though.”
“Let him. So are you about to throw that in the fire?”
“No. I liked it. And I see what you mean—about it being therapy. It was a little bit for me, too. Especially…in deciding what to do.”
“About your mom?”
I lay my head on his shoulder. Partially because I love the way he’s holding me, partially to hide my face. “There was a passage in there about the vampire mother. It went something like, ‘Sometimes the world is a better place when someone is born into it. And sometimes the world is a better place after someone leaves it.’ And so I was thinking about my mom and?—”
His hand tightens on my knee. “I didn’t mean that she should die, Abbie.”
“Oh, I know. But I think it’s accurate in the sense of my world. That my little, personal world will be better without certain people in it. And that includes her.”
He presses a kiss into my hair. And though he doesn’t say anything?—
You’re not alone now, are you?
“I’m also a little angry with myself for ever getting into this position, because why did I believe her in the first place? She lies. I know she lies. And about the stupidest things. Or anything that might make her look bad. Is she running late? It’s not her fault, it was traffic, she’ll say. And everyone lies sometimes, but she does it all the time. So why did I believe her about the fucking taxes?”
“Because she had a statement. And she had a good story.”
“But she always has a story. Do you know that she tells people that she’s living with me because I need the help, financially? Because that makes her look good. I’d bet anything she tells people that I’m not at home over the holidays because she thought I was working too hard and so she suggested a getaway for me…and then she sent me on her dime. I’d bet anything . Argh!”
I cover my face with my hands, breathing heavily, while Reed holds me tight.
You’re not alone now, are you?
I draw in a deep breath before continuing more calmly. “But you know what’s weird? As much as it hurts to know how she lied and took advantage of me, it’s also a relief? I felt lighter the other day, after we came back from getting the tree, and I didn’t know why. But I figured it out. It’s because she stepped over a line. Way over. Just like Neil’s dad stepped way over a line.”
“And now you don’t have to feel so bad now when you tell her to get the fuck out of your life.”
“Yes! Because there was always so much guilt . I was this terrible, terrible person for even thinking of wanting them to leave. But now…she did this horrible, inexcusable thing. And I’m glad!” I laugh. “I’m so glad! Because now I can tell her she has two months to find a new place, and there’s nothing she can say in her defense! There’s no way to gaslight me on this. So I’m just…fuck, yes! Am I a terrible person?”
“No,” Reed says. “I think you’re just about perfect.”
“Even when I’m singing?”
“Especially when you’re singing. In fact, I think we need the next verse of that song right now.” He stands up out of the chair with me wrapped around him. “Are we on the fifth fuck of Christmas? Five golden rings is usually the part where it becomes a power ballad.”
“So… On the fifth fuck of Christmas, my enemy gave to me… HOPEFULLY NOT HERPES ! ” I belt the line out at the top of my lungs, and Reed has to stop, face buried in my shoulder as he laughs.
Finally he shakes his head. “You’ve got to have a number in the lyric.”
“Okay, okay— FIVE PUSSY LICKINGS! ”
“That, I can do,” he says, and lowers me to the bed. “I adore your pussy. I adore you, too.”
I catch my breath, staring up at him. How does he keep doing this to me? But I can’t make a joke. Not now. Not when he begins kissing me. Not when he devours my pussy like a man starving. Not when he slides into me from behind, and goes slow, so slow, building my orgasm into a soul-shattering roll of thunder. Not when the fucking is over and he holds me so tight.
You’re not alone now, are you?
I’m not.
But what will I be when this holiday is over?