Chapter Seventeen
Abby
“Hey, you.” I smile as I open the door to Don. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”
Clearly, Abby. You’re in sweatpants with holes in them and a Snuggie.
Usually, I put on my good sweats when I know we will be spending time together. Tonight, I figured I was safe to look like a bum.
He runs his hand over the stubble on his face. “Yeah, just got back a little while ago. I wanted to come say thank you for taking my laptop inside.”
“Oh, it wasn’t a problem.”
He holds up a tiny bag. “Well, I got you a gift anyway.”
“Really?” I ask as he hands it to me. A wide smile crosses my lips as I open the bag. “A mug from Nebraska.”
“Figured your cabinet could use a little small town.”
“I love it. Come on in.” As I take the mug to the kitchen, I say, “I have something for you too.”
“Oh?”
I pull out a Ziploc bag that’s full of chocolate chip cookies. “Here. I made them yesterday and already ate half of them. Save me from myself.”
Plus, I feel bad that I snooped through your apartment.
“That’s so sweet of you, Abs. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So, how is Kaylee doing?”
He crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the counter. “She’s a tough little bird. Even with a broken leg, she hasn’t slowed down much.”
“That’s great. I’m glad she’s doing alright.”
I piddle around the kitchen while we continue to make some more small talk. I haven’t cleaned much in the past couple of days, so I straighten while we catch up.
Completely out of the blue, Don asks, “Abby, would you like to have dinner with me?”
Without looking at him, I reply, “I mean, it’s kind of late.”
“I don’t mean now. Maybe another night.”
“Well, we have dinner together all the time.”
“Not like that.” He pauses a moment. “Abby, would you like to go on a date with me?”
His words shock me so much that I drop the glass I was washing into the sink, causing it to shatter and cut my hand.
“Shit,” I say as I look down at the blood trickling out.
Don immediately jumps into action, turning the water from hot to cold and holding my hand under the stream. After getting it rinsed off, he takes a towel and wraps it around my palm, tying it in a knot.
“That should help,” he says. “In a little while, we’ll put a bandage on it.”
“Alright,” I whisper.
“You know, Abs, I didn’t think me asking you out would cause you bodily harm.”
“It just surprised me.”
His eyes flick to mine. “You haven’t answered me.”
Because I have no idea what to say.
“Don, is this some sort of joke?”
“Why would you think that?” He asks.
“Because this is the plot to every high school movie from the early 2000’s. The hot popular guy asks out the nerdy girl because of a bet. Did someone bet you to do this?”
He smiles. “No. No one bet me. And that’s still not an answer.”
“Don, I think before I give you an answer, you deserve to know exactly what you’re getting into.”
He leans against the counter again. “I’m listening.”
I try to gather my thoughts to articulate properly, but everything comes out as word vomit instead. “Don, I am weird. And awkward. My stomach likes to implode on itself quite often, and because I still want to be able to eat good shit, I spend way more time in the bathroom than I should. Underneath my clothes, I don’t have a whole lot going on. There’s nothing spectacular. I hardly ever wear a bra because I hate them, so I’ll probably have saggy boobs when I get older. I don”t shave my legs all that often, but you know what I do have to shave every day? The weird patch of hair that grows just under my chin.”
When I run out of air, I take a deep breath before continuing. “I break out in hives incredibly easily. I bite my nails down to the quick because my anxiety keeps me on edge all the time. I fixate on shows like Gilmore Girls because they’re comforting. I like that I know exactly what’s going to happen. Half the time, when I try to watch a new show, I hate it because I don’t care for the unknown. I don’t like change or the unexpected. My brain works in a super weird way that makes zero sense—sometimes, even to me.”
He goes to speak, but I don’t give him a chance. “You’re so…I mean, look at you. You could be in a fucking Calvin Klein ad. I’m not one of the hot chicks you normally bring home. I’ll never be one of those leggy models. And this isn’t me hating on myself. It’s just the truth. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
Before I can go any further or process what’s going on, Don takes two long strides toward me. Each of his hands grasps the sides of my face as he pulls me close to press his lips to mine.
Any thought that may have just been in my head goes flying out. Don’s lips on mine are soft yet commanding all at the same time. I set my hands on top of his as I grab at anything that may help me remain upright. I fear I may melt into a puddle at any moment.
He smells amazing. Whatever cologne he’s wearing is intoxicating.
When he finally breaks the kiss, a pang of disappointment hits me. I’m not quite ready for it to end.
As he pulls back, his blue eyes look into mine. “Sorry. I just had to see what that would be like.”
Barely able to speak, I ask, “What’s the verdict?”
“I think it was pretty fucking incredible,” he says with a smile. “Abby, all those things that you just named? I don’t see any of those things as downfalls. All of those things put together make you who you are.”
“And even with all that, you still want to go on a date with me?” I ask, still in shock.
“More than ever.” He grins. “So, Abigal Jones, I’m going to ask you one more time. Will you go on a date with me?”
I still can’t help being skeptical, but the desire for him to kiss me again far outweighs my doubts. So for once, I decide to push away all of my fear and insecurities and instead take a chance.
“Yes.”