Chapter 28
Rami's POV
Oh, shit. A hot shower is possibly the most amazing feeling ever. After only cleaning myself in that cold-ass stream for the past week, this feels like heaven. I never want to leave.
The image of Adriel standing at the threshold of his range while I walked away from him flashes through my mind. The tortured look on his face felt more like a goodbye than a see you later.
No matter what it takes, I have to get back to him.
Suddenly, the air in the small bathroom turns thick. The hair on my arms stands straight up.
“Abraham?” I call out, hating how my voice shakes.
But there’s no answer. Even though I swear I can feel someone else in here with me. It almost feels like that dream—nope, not going there! I still can’t manage to get the thought out of my head. And then I hear it.
Is that breathing?
Fu-uck.
Taking a deep breath, I force down my fear and peek one eye around the shower curtain. Something moves in the shadowy corner, but when I try to force my eyes to focus on it it’s gone.
I return to my shower and try to think of literally anything else. Nothing seems to work until I start mumbling under my breath the first song that pops into my head. Why it’s “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts” by Merv Griffin, I’ll never know.
And just like that, the air thins, and whatever was causing the tension lifts.
But I still can’t bring myself to get out of the shower.
It’s not until another twenty minutes pass before I decide I should get out. Not only am I turning into a raisin, but I don’t want to be a dick. Abraham has kindly allowed me to hide here without questions, and I shouldn’t be the guest who uses up all of his hot water or racks up his water bill.
Turning off the water, I hesitate to pull back the curtain. I listen to the subtle drip, drip from the faucet, straining my ears to hear whatever infiltrated the space earlier. But there’s nothing. No sound. No tension. Nothing
Still, I peek out of the curtain first to see the empty bathroom.
I go through my routine of drying myself off, applying lotion, then running product through my hair, and combing it out while it’s still wet.
I slip on my comfiest pair of shorts and V-neck T-shirt before hanging up my towel and carrying my stuff into the living room.
By the time Abraham emerges upstairs, I’ve formed a nest on the couch of schoolwork. To include a soft throw blanket I found and a glass of water.
“I hope you don’t mind; I made myself at home,” I say, looking up from my laptop. My cheeks warm with what I can only assume is a rather unmanly blush.
“Not at all. It makes me happy to see you so comfortable in my space.”
An image of Abraham skewering me over his dick while I straddle his lap. The faint light of the TV flickers behind me. His hands leave bruises on my hips as he forces me to bounce along his length.
The crystals under my shirt heat uncomfortably, snapping me from the erotic daydream. My stomach roils in protest, just like the last time. Closing my eyes, I manage to breathe in slowly and force it down without losing my breakfast.
“Are you okay?” Abraham asks, my eyes snapping open to take in the worry pinching in his brows. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m okay,” I lie, nodding my head. “Haven’t eaten much lately. It’ll pass.”
“Let me get you some tea and biscuits.” Dropping a stack of books onto the coffee table with a quiet thud he then walks back toward the stairs, glancing back at me. “And then perhaps you can tell me what you’ve been up to the past week.”
My entire body seizes up thinking about exposing Adriel. But Abraham is my friend. He wouldn’t try to hunt down or cause harm to Adriel. He’s nothing like anyone else in this town.
And yet, the idea of saying anything makes my stomach twist into knots.
I grasp onto the crystals through my shirt tightly, using them to anchor me and strengthen my resolve. It’s safer if no one knows, and then Abraham won’t have to lie if anyone asks him what he knows.
Feeling a bit calmer, my attention is stolen by the stack of books Abraham brought for me.
The smile at how well he knows me refuses to lessen.
I flip through the pages of the fantasy graphic novel sitting on top; the colorful images make my lips nearly split in a wide smile.
I read the backs of the other four novels to find a contemporary, dark, vampire, and an alien romance.
It’s hard not to want to dig into them immediately.
Abraham returns a few minutes later with a tray filled with his goodies and a huge grin plastered on his face. He doesn’t say anything until he’s verified I had a cup and a plate with a biscuit, and he’s situated in a nearby rocking chair.
“So, what finally made you run away?” I raise a brow in challenge, hoping to throw him off from the truth. “Don’t try to deny it. It was all anyone has been talking about all week.”
With a heavy sigh and an eye roll, I take a sip of tea to delay my story. “I finally just became fed up with everyone assuming things about me.”
“Grandma Julia?” he asks quietly.
I nod. The sorrowful acknowledgement of my life lodges deep in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. “She insists I’m on drugs.” My voice is weak. Pathetic.
Abraham’s head tilts slightly to the right as if he’s listening to something, a usual habit of his. My mind conjures an image of Grandma Julia doing nearly the same thing during our argument. But before I can delve too far into that, he speaks and pulls me from my train of thoughts.
“Are you?” His eyes drop to the scars on my wrists, and I instinctively turn my arm to hide them.
I can’t help but compare the vastly different reactions between Adriel and Abraham. Adriel adamantly knew I’m not on drugs whereas Abraham questions me. Fury boils to the surface, pinching my lips tightly and flaring my nostrils.
“No,” I snap.
He holds up his hands in a placating gesture, as if he’s attempting to tame a beast. “I assure you I wasn’t trying to accuse.”
With another heavy sigh, I sink further into the couch. Feeling lower than a worm. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t be. It’s not my place to pass judgement.”
“I wish the rest of the town thought that way,” I mumble.
Abraham’s head bobs up and down, making his chair rock silently. Thank fuck it doesn’t creak like Grandma Julia’s. “Unfortunately, that is not the case. At least not in my experience.”
“How long have you lived here?” I ask, closing my laptop and setting it to the side.
Turning, I angle my body so I’m facing Abraham more directly.
His eyes bounce around at each bunch and jerk of muscle, evidence of my body refusing to settle in his presence.
An image of him kissing and licking along my muscles makes my stomach roil uncomfortably.
Clearing my throat, I force myself to focus on our conversation.
We’ve always just talked about nonsense, or books, when we’ve hung out previously.
Though each visit was brief, it was almost as if I could hear the ticking of the clock counting down the seconds.
I don’t feel that now. But sitting in his living room feels more intimate than anything before.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Abraham says with a heavy sigh, oblivious to the mental gymnastics I’m currently fighting.
“Really?” Not sure why I ask since it’s not like he’d lie to me. He’s just so unlike everyone else in this town.
“My family has been a part of this town since it was founded.” His eyes stare off into the distance, as if he’s remembering some long-lost memory until his head cocks to the side subtly and the ghost of a smile curls his lips.
I want to ask him what made him smile when he continues, whispering so quietly I can barely make out his words. “Life was simpler then.”
“Have you never left?”
He shakes his head, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair.
“College?” Assuming he went to the Christian school in town.
“Never went,” he admits.
“Do you not want to get out and explore?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice that anyone would want to stay here.
“Not particularly. This is my home,” he admits with a shrug.
“What about your family? They haven’t tried to marry you off yet?” Honestly, I have no clue where that came from.
“They passed away a long time ago.”
Welp, insert foot into mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs again, but the pain in his eyes can’t be masked. “Not like they approved of my tastes, anyway.”
A shiver runs up my spine the way his eyes hood and rake over me. His hand lifts, rubbing along his bottom lip. I jump as the flash of him bending me over the couch and stretching me open forces its way into my thoughts.
“How was your shower?” he asks, his voice sounding lower than normal.
I suddenly feel less clean than I did a moment ago. But this is Abraham. The only person who has truly treated me like a person in this town. “Fine,” I squeak.
“Are you okay?” he practically purrs, and I know I have to steer this conversation in a different direction.
“Mhm!” I say a little too quickly. “Would you like to watch a movie?”
Abraham pushes up from his chair with a huff and steps until he’s hovering over me. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll bring up lunch and snacks.”
I swallow loudly and nod, not trusting myself with words. And also, just really hoping to get him out of my space. But as he grabs the tray of stuff, he brushes against me, though I’m quite certain it isn’t an accident.
It’s not until he descends the stairs that I feel I can breathe again. With the remote in hand, I find a fantasy adventure movie I’ve seen a dozen times, so I know there’s zero romance in it.
When Abraham returns, he lays out the sandwiches, fruit, and fresh tomatoes on the table and plops down on the couch next to me. He’s so close his thigh presses against mine. I want to slide away from him, but also don’t want to draw attention to it and make this worse.
I manage to finish lunch and only part of the movie before my eyes grow too heavy and I’m out like a light. I dream of Adriel hunkering down for the storm, hoping he’s safe. Also, knowing he’s somewhere in the aether since it’s daytime.
A click and silence falls over the apartment, and I shoot awake, realizing I fell asleep on Abraham’s shoulder. Blinking rapidly, I look around to see the TV off and turn to find Abraham placing his book down on his lap.
“Power went off,” I say, as if he’s blind and hasn’t realized it.
“How did you realize so quickly?” he asks, chuckling lightly.
“I heard the fan stop.” One brow quirks up high on his forehead. “I thought that was routine for all Southerners.”
Abraham shrugs lightly. “Perhaps I’m not as accustomed to them as you.”
My eyes narrow in on him; he’s not old enough to be implying living without a fan. It’s summer.
Grabbing one of the books from the table that Abraham picked out, I move to the chair near the window as if to watch the wind and rain. Honestly, I’m putting space between us. I don’t even realize how engrossed in the story I become before Abraham is standing over me.
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“I asked if you wanted something to drink.” He holds out a bottle of water, and I take it gratefully. But his hold lingers, forcing our hands to touch. And then his presence stays nearby until I drink it and thank him.
By dinnertime the power is back on, and he’s downstairs making food. I glance outside to see that the worst of the weather has passed. I have to get the fuck out of here and back to Adriel. But mostly I just need to get the fuck out of here.