22. Colt – “I believe that a persons taste in music tells you a lot about them. In some cases, it tells you everything you need to know.” — Leila Sales, This Song Will Save Your Life
22
Colt
“I believe that a person's taste in music tells you a lot about them. In some cases, it tells you everything you need to know.” — Leila Sales, This Song Will Save Your Life
I was platting our dishes when Abigail walked inside, looking around as if there would be other people inside.
She put on sweatpants, and I appreciated the change. The shorts she had on earlier, when I welcomed myself into the apartment unannounced, were the kind that hugged your hips and I got a view of her camel toe. It reminded me of the first night I walked in on her.
You are not getting hard thinking about your dead brother's crush. You are not getting hard thinking of your dead brother's crush.
“Hi,” my son’s voice snapped me out of the fantasy I had been playing in my head, and I looked at Abigail again.
“I'm glad you could join us,” I say as I pull out another paper plate. “Which one would you like?” I pointed to the two boxes, and she pointed to the Philly cheesesteak.
“Great choice.” I placed one slice, then picked up another.
“One is fine,” She said, midway through me putting another slice onto her plate.
Remembering her eating disorder, I placed it on there anyway, since I’m an inconsiderate asshole. “I touched it, so if you don’t eat it, I will.” Why the fuck was my mind going straight to the gutter? Images of her pussy flashed in my mind and I struggled to shake them off. What was I, a sixteen-year-old teenager? How can the word eat make blood rush to my dick in an instant?
“I’m Bodie,” My son says as he chews his food. “Don’t chew with your mouthful.” I sit across from Bodie and Abigail after placing Abigail’s plate in front of her.
“That’s a beautiful name, Bodie. How old are you?” She asks.
“I’m six, well almost six.” He holds up his fingers to indicate.
“When is your birthday?” Abigail says softly, leaning in as if trying to make Bodie comfortable. No woman was that thoughtful around my son. They were too busy focusing on me and ensuring I was the relationship's leading man.
“November…” he taps his chin lightly.
“Thirteenth,” I say, helping him remember.
“Oh ya, November thirteenth.”
“How cool. My birthday is in November, too, but mine is November eleventh, so our birthdays are only two days apart. We’re practically birthday twins.”
For whatever reason, I felt a sense of comfort when she mentioned her birthday, maybe because it made me feel like a part of Blake was still alive and about to celebrate his.
“Really?” Bodie’s eyes go wide. Maybe we can have a birthday party at the same time. Do you like Spider-Man? I love Spider-Man. I told Dad I wanted to have a giant birthday cake at the gym where there is wall climbing, and we had to make sure we invited Ghost-Spidey, too, because it’s just not the same without them together.”
Abigail laughed lightly and fuck me if that wasn’t the most adorable laugh I’ve ever heard. It was genuine, soft, subtle but also rare as if she tucked them away and only brought them out on certain occasions.
“I love Spiderman. I think he’s pretty cool.” Bodie adds, taking another bite.
“I think he’s pretty brave and I have a feeling you are just as awesome as Spider man. With tunnel vision.” She makes circles with her fingers, pretending to look through them like glasses.
I first noticed Abigail’s eyes. She had the most striking eyes I’ve ever seen. They weren’t blue; they were a color I’d never seen before. It’s like they were green mixed with an orange tint. Or maybe it was a yellow color. I don’t know. I haven’t looked into her eyes deep enough to see the small details.
“So how old are you going to be,” Bodie asks with his mouthful again. I tap his shoulder, and he turns to face me.
“What did I say about eating with your mouthful?”
“Dad,” he groans.
I see Abigail hasn’t even touched her food.
“I’ll be twenty-two. It’s double what my birthday is.”
Bodie scratches his nose up in confusion. Abigail holds up both pointer fingers placing them side by side. “This is the number eleven. So when you add eleven and eleven together, it makes twenty-two.”
“You are going to be twenty-two?” Bodie’s animated expression makes me smirk as I watch him and Abigail converse.
“My mom won’t like how you are younger than her. She says, my dad-”
I cough as I make an effort to interrupt my son.
“Bodie, be mindful of what you are saying.” I remind him.
“Okay.” He looks down at his pizza for a second before perking back up. “My mom doesn’t like cake but do you like cake miss.…” Bodie trails off, realizing he doesn’t know Abigail's name.
“Abigail. My name is Abigail.”
“That’s pretty. I have a friend in Mrs. Meyer's class, and her name is Abigail, but she’s not very nice. Not like you. She’s always picking on the girls and making fun of their clothes.”
Abigail blushes a little as she looks across the table at me.
“Looks like you made a new friend.” I wink across the room.
“You want to play in my room after you eat?” Bodie looks at her plate. “Hey, you’re not eating your pizza. Is it gross? You should eat the cheese. It’s the best. Way better than that one.”
Abigail smiles, shaking her head. “No, it’s not gross. I'm sorry. I was having so much fun talking to you that I forgot I had it in front of me.”
Bodie laughs. “You’re silly.”
Abigail takes a small bite, and I pick up my third slice of pizza and take a bite as well.
“Do you want to come play with me after you are done?” Bodie asks again. Guilt sets in as I remind myself he is okay as an only child.
“Maybe tomorrow night, okay Bodie Bear,” I answered for her.
Abigail's gaze darts to mine. What? Didn’t most dads have nicknames for their kids? Besides, it was already eight, and as much as I wanted Bodie and Abigail to bond, since they’d be seeing each other more than not over these past couple of weeks, I was exhausted from getting up early to catch our flight back home.
“Ugh, why not? I don’t have school tomorrow?” Bodie wines.
“Because I said so, and it’s been a long day. You need to take a bath and get to bed soon. Messing with the home insurance guys wore Daddy out today.”
“Aw, come on Dad. Please, can I at least watch a movie before bed?”
“No, not tonight,” I say sternly but not in an aggressive tone.
“Please.” He says, elongating the words.
“Bodie, don’t start with me.”
“Fine.” He huffs and crosses his arms.
“What’s your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?” Abigail leans in to ask him.
Bodie taps his finger on his chin again. “French toast!” he says with a little jump in his chair.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what. If you do as you're told tonight, then in the morning, I’ll make you some delicious French toast.”
“With cinnamon?”
Abigail nods. “But that means you’ve got to get to bed because the sooner you sleep, the sooner you can get up, and I’ll be able to make them. And if you are really good, I’ll let you help me.”
“Yay!” Bodie gets up from his seat and jumps up and down.
“Okay, Bodie Bear. Go throw your plate away, and I’ll be up to help you brush your teeth in a minute.”
“Okay.” He says happily.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I look at Abigail. “Thanks, that could have gone on longer than I wanted.”
“No problem.” She says, looking down at her plate.
“Do you not like your pizza?” I ask. She ate half of one slice but the other was sitting untouched on her plate.
“No, it’s good. I’m just not that hungry.” She lifts her plate up and angles it toward me. “You want my other slice?”
I pick up my plate and hold it out for her to slide the pizza on. She takes another small bite of her pizza again, chewing slowly. I take another big bite. We sit in silence for a second before she asks,
“So what happened today exactly?”
“A pipe burst while we were away on vacation, flooding our whole kitchen. We have wood floors, so they’ll have to replace the floors and the plumbing. I’m not sure how long it will take, but I’m guessing around three weeks, as long as everything goes smoothly.”
“ I have all my stuff in my suitcase. I can just go back to my parents house. I don’t want t-”
“No, I don’t w-” I pause before I realize what I’m about to admit too. I take a breath and rephrase what I was about to say.
“I told you it’s fine. Plus, won’t your parents think it’s strange if you go back there after being gone a whole week?”
She shrugs, “maybe, but it’s not like they would care either way.”
Her eyes, I see it. It’s her eyes that gave her emotions away, and with eyes like that, she should be lighting up when it came to talking about her parents, but it’s like someone took a pin and stabbed her with it, deflating all hope that ever existed within her.
“I gave Josh my word, so it’s not a big deal. You can even stay in the main house if you want,” I point to the stairs. “I have another room on the second floor. I know it gets cramped in that apartment, so it’d be no problem.”
“Oh no, I’m more than happy to be in the apartment. I would feel imposing on you guys if I stayed in the main house. Plus, I wouldn’t want your son to think, you know.”
“To think what?” I wrinkle my nose at her.
“Ya know, think we were dating. I’m not sure what you told him.”
“I told him you were my brother's friend and I was helping you out.” Which was the truth. I didn’t mind looking at her. It’s been a while since I’d had a girl around who was not here only for my needs or just for the weekend.
“Oh.” She looked down, and there it was again, those sad fucking eyes. What was this girl's deal? Why was she so, sad?. I mean it made me wonder what kind of childhood she had?
“Thank you for dinner.” She scoots her chair back, and I have to force my eyes not to stare at her ass. She had a perfect body. She was short, but all the fat was in the right places. And if she were tall, everything would be accented more. Maybe God made her short because that perfect ass would be more brutal to ignore if it was on a giant frame of a woman.
“You’re welcome.”
“Tell Bodie Bear good night when you tuck him in bed tonight.” An amused smile forms, but it’s gone in an instant.
The way she said it made my heart break a little. She spoke in a soft, low tone like she wished she had been tucked in at night by her parents.
“I will.” And at that, she left the kitchen and walked through the back door out to the apartment. I mindlessly chewed on the crust I left from earlier, thinking about how this may not be a good idea, but the brains in my pants ignored the brains in my head, and the feeling in my gut was not getting any recognition today either. I continued to chew the stale, bleached white bread as I stared into the nothingness.
When I walked toward the kitchen the following day, I heard clanking sounds. It was seven thirty in the morning. Was she cooking already?
Her ass was the first thing I saw. She shook it from side to side as she listened to the song blaring in her earbuds. Even from here, I could tell it was a song by Mariah Carey. I stare at her backside, mesmerized as if someone injected my body with drugs to physically stay planted in one spot and not move, not even blink.
Lord help me, I’m going to hell.
She wore yoga pants and a tank top. She still had on her tennis shoes. It didn’t shock me that she got up to run or work out this morning. I knew a body like that didn’t get sculpted by not putting the work in daily. She lifted up onto her tippy toes to grab a plate, and from the side I could see her muscles clench. She even had abs. I was dedicated to working out even in the offseason, but this girl beat me by far. And she wasn’t even getting paid to do it. She worked out because she wanted to. No girl I know would get up at the crack of dawn and dedicate themselves to getting the body they wanted. Most women just wanted me to pay for a butt lift, tummy tuck, or whatever else they thought they needed.
This girl worked for her body.
I walk up beside her and removed one of her airpods.
“Good morning,” I say softly. She blinks rapidly, looking at me with those doe eyes. God, what those eyes would look like as she looked up at me with those full lips wrapped around my cock.
That’s it. I needed to get laid. Maybe calling Heidi was not such a bad idea after all, because we all know calling Namoi would be strange at this point. She had no idea Abigail was living in my apartment, but that was also before my kitchen had to be renovated.
I grabbed the plate she was struggling to get, and she continued to look at me as if she wasn't sure why I was helping her or why I got so close to saying good morning.
Hell, if I knew either. Come to think of it, this is the closest I've ever been to her. I watch her chest move up and down as she breathes in and out, and I can see a faint line of sweat around her hairline, making the curls even tighter in her messy bun. She smelled of coconut and sweat, and all I wanted to do was taste that sweet pussy of hers to see if it matched the scent.
“You looked like you were struggling,” I finally said. She stared at me for a moment, like I had said something offensive. Taking the plate out of my hands, she said, “Thanks, and good morning.”
“There’s coffee if you want some.”
She read my mind. “Yes, I do.” I padded over to the coffee machine and saw a coffee mug lying next to it as if she thought of me. The aroma of roasted Arabic beans woke my senses up.
I turned to face her. “Did you have some already?”
“I’m not much of a coffee drinker.”
She made this just for me?
“That’s too bad,” I say, brushing off the fact that this girl has been more thoughtful for the past twenty-four hours than Bodie’s mother has in six years.
I pour a cup and put a bit of sugar and lots of creamer in my mug. I liked coffee as long as it tasted like a sugary milk drink.
I take a sip as my eyes peek over the brim of the mug, watching her move from one spot to another. She had yogurt displayed on the counter, and I’m no expert but never in my life have I made French toast with yogurt.
She was a mystery to me, but so was my brother. Every time I looked at her, it was hard not to be reminded of him. I sat on the island across from the stove and placed my coffee cup down gently. “Tell me more about Blake.”
She froze as if I had a gun in my hand, holding her at gunpoint.
“I mean, was he—-was he happy?”
She placed the strawberries back on the kitchen counter before slowly turning around.
“Yes, when he had drugs in his system.”
Her words were direct, not sugarcoating a damn thing.
I grit my teeth together, hating the fact my brother did have a drug problem, and I wasn’t even aware of how bad it was until it was too late. He was good at keeping secrets and hiding things.
“Or when he was playing his guitar. Listening to music, talking about nothing.” A faint smile brushed her lips, and as quickly as it came, it was gone when I spoke again.
“Did he have any friends besides you?” Realizing that question came across as sort of presumptuous, I add. “I didn’t hear him talk about anyone; he would disappear from time to time at odd hours, and you told me that you guys didn’t see each other outside of school much. So….”
Unless she was lying, and they saw each other more than she was putting off.
“He had acquaintances, more than friends. The friends he did have, they all ended up fucking each others girlfriends, and that circle eventually went to shit too.”
“Wait, Blake did what?”
“Oh no, Blake was the only one that didn’t participate in that fuckery. Literally. Brooks, Eddison, and Duke started changing once one of the music videos Blake posted of the Fallen Ange ls, went viral. They all let it get to their heads before they even got their first gig. Well, they did get a showing at a few places, but that was all thanks to Blakes's effort, too.”
“I didn’t even know Blake was involved in music like that. I just thought he loved rock n’ roll and all that shit because he was on drugs. I figured, most people who did drugs were into music. Hand in hand kinda thing.”
“I wasn’t.”
I look up and her face is stoic, as if my idiocracy does not amuse her.
Before I can redeem myself, my son’s presence saves me from digging myself into a deeper hole.
“Something smells good, Daddy.”
I swivel around on my chair and hold out my hands. Hey there, Bodie Bear.” I lift him up in my arms and give him a big hug and kiss.
“You sleep good?”
He nods his head dramatically. “Yup, are we going to see the horses today, Daddy?
“ I don’t know. Maybe, it depends on how the day goes. How about we eat breakfast first, and then we can decide? Okay?”
“But you promised I’d get to see Bolt.”
Abigail raises an eyebrow at me. “Bolt?”
“His horse,” I say over Bodie’s head at her. She tilts her head to the side knowingly.
“Breakfast is ready,” Abigail said. She placed two plates in front of us. It looked like French toast out of a healthy gourmet magazine. She had two slices on top of each other with whipped cream, sliced strawberries, bananas, and drizzled honey on top, with sprinkled cinnamon for added aesthetics.
“This looks delicious!” Bodie says, grabbing his fork and digging in.
“Mmmm.” He hums to himself, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“You like it?” Abigail asks.
“Mmm-hmm,” Bodie says with his mouth so full he can’t speak.
“Glad you like it.” She says through a chuckle.
“And I’m glad you're not talking with your mouthful.” I ruffled his hair.
I cut into the fluffy toast with my fork and took a bite as well. “Wow, this is good,” I said as I chewed.
“Thank you.”
“But what did you use as the topping,” I ask, cutting into the fluffy bread.
“It’s a secret, but just know it’s what I like to call Unicorn clouds.”
“Unicorn clouds?” Bodie says with enthusiasm.
“Yup,”Abigail says,
“Pull up a chair and eat with us. Tell us all about the unicorn clouds,” I say mysteriously.
“Oh, I’ve already had my calories this morning.” She wiggles her plastic shaker with a cheesy smile. “Protein shake was filling since I put peanut butter in it this time.”
“You’re not going to eat unicorn clouds with us?” Bodie says with a mouthful, trying to sound sad, but he’s too engulfed in his food to care.
I let the mouthful thing slide since I was more concerned about why she didn’t want to sit down and have breakfast with us.
“No, I am going to take my stinky butt in the shower, and I need to reply to some emails and get back to reality, but you enjoy your unicorn clouds and French toast.” She leans in to whisper in Bodie’s ear. “I hear they make you run fast since they have hidden magic inside them.”
Bodie’s face lights up so bright you would think he was looking at a brand-new electric car.
“Enjoy,” She says as she looks at me and walks off, disappearing from view. My stomach sinks a little from her absence. For some reason, I thought breakfast this morning would go a little differently, and I’m not sure if it was because of the dream I had of Abigail riding my cock last night or because I thought she would sit down and chat with me. Most girls would beg for a breakfast session after sex with me. I know we didn’t have sex, but still.
“Maybe she’s lonely. We should invite her to meet the horses,” Bodie says, returning me to reality.
“Ya,” I mindlessly chew another bite of this delicious French toast. Abigail's ass flashes in my mind along with that perfect pink pussy, and visions from last night’s dream play out in my head again. I know I should stay far away from Abigail Asher while we are both under this roof, but at the same time, another part of me is aching to crash into her repeatedly.