Chapter Sixteen #3
“It’s just…” She turns her head to look back at me, and I’m momentarily stunned by the way the thin sunlight streaming through the trees above makes her eyes sparkle. “I saw the way you looked when she announced everything back there. You looked…I don’t know. A little lost.”
I stop pushing her, my fingers resting gently against her back as I consider.
“It’s strange. My entire life I’ve always felt like I have to be one way.
Like I have to be the happy one so that Dee never has to bear any sort of burden.
I guess I started doing it when our parents died, and ever since…
Well. It’s a habit that’s hard to break.
Now that she’s with Ian…It’s just odd. Her not needing me anymore. ”
“She’ll always need you,” Abby says quietly.
“Maybe,” I say, giving her another push as my throat starts to feel thick. “Tell me about what happened back there.”
“Always changing the subject,” she says with a quiet laugh.
“I’m just worried about you.”
She bites her lip as she looks forward again, shrugging. “I don’t know what he wants from me. I don’t know what he thinks that I can do for him. But whatever it is, he seems adamant on getting it.”
“He’s just an asshole,” I remind her. “You don’t have to listen to him.”
“I know that,” she answers softly. “I’m trying not to.” She squirms a little. “I still can’t believe Lila and Ian are engaged.”
“Now who’s changing the subject?”
“Do you want to be the pot or the kettle?”
I laugh, then I grimace. “Ugh. They’re probably doing unspeakable things to each other right now.”
“You know, you don’t always have to dwell on their sex life.”
“Trust me, I really wish that were true.”
She’s quiet for several moments as I push her gently back and forth. When she speaks again, she’s quieter than before. “What do you think they’d say if they knew about us?”
“Ah, there’s that us again,” I tease. “You’re obsessed with me.”
She tries to jab an elbow back at me, narrowly missing my stomach. “It’s like you want me to hurt you.”
“I can handle a little pain,” I say with a laugh.
“Answer the question.”
“Who cares?” I tell her honestly. “I mean, they wouldn’t really have a leg to stand on. Not since they’ve been boinking for the better part of a year.”
“Don’t ever say ‘boinking’ again.”
“So I can’t tell you how much I wish we could go home and boink?”
“Not if you ever want to do it.”
I grab hold of the chains on either side of her, halting her swaying as I lean in closer. “Well, I would very much like to, so I suppose I’ll give you this one.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath, and then a clearing of her throat.
“You don’t regret it, do you?” I ask, feeling suddenly unsure.
She shakes her head. “Weirdly? No. I don’t.”
“Why weirdly?”
“Because…I guess…I’ve always had this idea of you in my head.”
“Herculean lover with a sparkling personality?”
“Vapid fuckboy, actually,” she corrects.
I press my hand over my heart. “Ouch.”
“But,” she adds, “you’ve really been proving me wrong lately. I…I’m actually sorry that I misjudged you so much.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I mean, no one can really blame you for thinking that.”
“Yes, they can,” she says, turning in the seat to look up at me. “You’re a lot more than that, and if I’d spent even a second trying to get to know you rather than constantly talking down to you…I might have seen that sooner.”
I feel a fluttering in my chest at the sincerity in her eyes and in her voice, swallowing thickly as sudden embarrassment heats my cheeks.
“Yeah, well…” I rub at the back of my neck. “It’s sort of what I project, anyway.”
“Why do you do that?”
“I guess…” I look down at my feet. “It’s just easier. If everyone thinks you’re just the ‘fun’ guy…they don’t ever expect anything more from you.”
“Why would it be so bad if someone expected more from you?”
“Because,” I huff, feeling a little flayed open. “Then I can’t ever let anyone down.”
“Jack…”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say quickly.
She reaches up to press her fingers to my jaw, her thumb stroking my cheek. “It’s a big deal to me. I…I like seeing this side of you.”
“The sappy, pathetic side?”
“The real you,” she corrects, staring up at me.
And suddenly it hurts not to have her mouth on mine—like my body is drawn to hers, like polar ends of a magnet.
I can feel myself leaning in even as her hand tugs at my face, and then my lips are moving against hers, my lashes fluttering closed as she kisses me softly in the dying sunlight underneath a canopy of trees.
“I really like doing that,” I tell her.
“I kind of like it too.”
“I’d like to do it more,” I admit.
She pulls back to look at me, her teeth pressing against that full lower lip. “I might be inclined to let you.”
“The fuck are we doing here then?” I tease. “Let’s go home.”
Abby does something then that takes my breath away, her lips curling into a wide, bright smile that is so unlike anything she’s ever given me that I’m momentarily at a loss for words.
“Yeah,” she says. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
Suddenly, I’ve never wanted to be anywhere more.