CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ~ ABBY ~ NOW
The next morning, I wake up with a sense of peace and rightness I haven’t felt in years. I’m exactly where I belong: in Graeme’s bed, wrapped in his arms.
We couldn’t get enough of each other last night.
Neither of us lasted long after our conversation, which was probably for the best since we had to get ready and meet the others for dinner.
It was difficult to act normal and keep our hands off each other, but we weren’t ready to say anything yet since we hadn’t taken time to make a plan.
We agreed to talk when we got home—home!
—but instead, we’d fallen back into bed.
After rendering me a boneless heap with his hands and mouth, Graeme had hovered over me and pointed out that in all we’d said earlier, we’d missed something important.
“I love you,” I said immediately, reaching to grip his hard length and position him at my entrance. “I love you so much, Graeme. I always have.”
“And I love you, a ghràidh. Then, now, and always.”
There was an intensity to our lovemaking that felt different than the other times we’d been together.
I was on the edge of tears the entire time, and I didn’t miss the way Graeme’s eyes glistened in the dark.
When he’d murmured, “Mine, mine, mine,” his tone reverent like a prayer, I’d come undone, clinging to him and gasping his name.
“Good morning,” Graeme says now, his sleep-roughened voice sending tingles racing along my skin.
“Good morning,” I echo, rolling to face him. The sight of him, all sleep-rumpled and heavy-lidded, nearly takes my breath away. I inhale deeply, remembering the moment we arrived in Scotland and how it felt like I was taking the first proper deep breath I’d had in years. I feel that way again now.
“Think the others would notice if we disappeared for a day or two?” he asks, trailing his fingers along my collarbone.
“Pretty sure Drew would have something to say about it.” I watch his face as his hand dips lower to cup my breast. “But then again, maybe I’m coming down with something.” I force out a pathetic-sounding cough.
Graeme gives me a wicked smile. “Sounds like bed rest is what you need,” he says, rolling me onto my back and moving over me. “And I should be here to take care of you.”
He kisses me, cutting off my laughter. His hand drifts down my body, freezing just above my breast. He lifts his head and tilts it toward the bedroom door. Before I can ask what’s wrong, I hear keys jingling as the front door opens.
“Abby? Graeme? Are you here?” Drew calls.
Graeme and I stare at each other, bug-eyed and silent.
“Okay, guys, I’m starting to freak out.” Drew’s voice moves down the hall. “Abs?” There’s a creaking sound as she opens my bedroom door.
I shove Graeme’s shoulders and sit up as he rolls off me. My frantic brain tells me to jump out of bed, but then what? There’s literally nowhere to hide. I can’t even slip out into the hall and dart into another room.
Graeme shakes his head and pulls the sheet up to cover my naked body. “It’s too late,” he whispers. “We’ll handle this together.”
“Where are you?” Drew taps her knuckles against Graeme’s bedroom door before opening it. “I’m worried I’m going to walk in on—” She stops just inside the door, her mouth hanging open mid-sentence, and her eyes growing wide. A hysterical laugh bubbles up inside me, but I swallow it down.
“Okay. Not a murder scene,” Drew says. Her gaze is like a physical weight as it darts over me before moving on to Graeme and then the clothes strewn across the floor. “Okay.” She spins on her heel and disappears down the hall.
“Shit.” I toss the sheet off and jump out of bed, grabbing the first item of clothing I find. Before I can pull Graeme’s shirt over my head, Drew bursts back into the room. I screech and cover myself.
“Oh, please, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “Coffee?” When all I do is stare at her, she repeats, “Coffee. You and me. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten.” She gives Graeme a curt nod and leaves the room.
I remain frozen until I hear the front door close, and then I spring into action, yanking Graeme’s shirt over my head.
“I have a bunch of missed calls and texts from her,” Graeme says as I collect the rest of my clothes.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and groan when I see the long list of notifications from Drew sent late last night and this morning. The ones from today start off asking where I am and if I’m okay, then turn more worried in tone:
Drew: Hellooooo? Seriously, where are you?
Drew: Graeme’s not answering either.
Drew: Starting to get worried. Answer me!
Drew: Found Mum and Dad’s spare keys. I’m coming up!
Graeme touches my shoulder, making me jump. He looks adorably rumpled and concerned. “Want me to go with you?”
“I love you for offering, but she said ‘you and me’, so I think this is something I need to do alone.”
“Say it again,” he says.
Confusion at his request mixes with the worry that’s been buzzing through my mind since the moment Drew walked through the door. When I realize his meaning, the noise quiets down a notch. I plant my hands on his shoulders. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says, kissing me. “And Drew loves you as much as I do, so it’s going to be okay.”
I exhale sharply and nod. Graeme kisses me once more, and then I hurry from the room to get dressed. When I head out a few minutes later, I find Brodie standing outside his parents’ flat.
“Morning.” He offers me a smile that can only be described as sympathetic, which doesn’t make me feel better.
“Morning. How mad is she?”
He winces. “I honestly don’t know. She only paused long enough to ask if I knew you and my brother were sleeping together. When I said no, she told me she’d be back later.”
“Okay. I have to go.” I move past him, but he stops me with a gentle hand on my arm.
“You and Graeme, eh?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “It’s not like that. I mean, not only like that. I love him.”
Brodie’s mouth works silently for a few seconds, and then he clamps it shut, his face softening into a small smile. I’m reminded suddenly of the day we met all those years ago, and how I thought he was the sweetest thing. I still do. “Does he love you too?”
“He does.” Admitting that out loud makes me giddy. “I have to go, I don’t want to keep Drew waiting. Wish me luck.”
“Och, you don’t need it, my lovely. Nobody on Earth loves you more than my wife does.” He kisses my cheek and steps around me, pausing before he starts climbing the stairs. “Tell me Graeme’s not naked. I don’t want to walk in and get an eyeful of something I’ll never be able to unsee.”
With a laugh, I assure him Graeme was getting dressed when I left, and then I set off down the last flight of stairs.
My heart is pounding by the time I open the heavy wooden door onto the Royal Mile.
Drew is pacing in front of the fudge shop next door, hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket.
When she faces me, her brows are furrowed, and she’s biting her lip.
Our eyes meet. For one of the first times in our twenty-year friendship, I can’t read her expression.
“I’m sorry you found out about Graeme and me like that—”
She holds up a hand to cut me off. “I’m going to need coffee for this conversation. And maybe a full Scottish breakfast to go with it.”
* * *
“All this time?”
Drew and I are sitting in a restaurant near MacKinlay Tower.
Neither of us said a word to each other as we came in, took our seats, and placed our orders.
Drew was her usual friendly self with the staff, but she barely looked at me.
Experiencing what felt like the silent treatment from my usually chatty, affectionate best friend made my stomach do continuous somersaults.
The second the waitress left with our orders, Drew turned to me and said, “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
And so I did. I started with the day Graeme and I met, and ended with our conversation last night, which led to what she walked in on this morning, only pausing when our food arrived.
If I thought I word-vomited with Graeme last night, it was nothing compared to catching Drew up on sixteen years’ worth of history.
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking a swig of orange juice to soothe my dry throat. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Drew spears a mushroom with her fork and pops it in her mouth.
She remained silent the entire time I was speaking, although her expressive face displayed a range of emotions and reactions to what I was saying.
Now, as she chews and stares off into the distance, I can’t anticipate what she’s going to say next.
“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” she says.
“You can do both,” I say. “And you can yell at me. Or go back to the silent treatment.”
Confusion flashes across her face a second before she presses her lips together and nods. “I wasn’t purposely giving you the silent treatment so much as I was processing. Big Feelings, you know?”
“Big Feelings,” I agree.
“I’m trying not to make this about me, but I can’t help wondering if I’ve failed you in some way,” she says, her attention focused on the sausage she’s cutting into tiny bites.
“If there was something about me that made you feel like you had to hide this huge part of your life from me for all these years.”
The bite of tattie scone I just swallowed feels like a cannonball in my throat.
“Drew.” I move my plate aside and lay my hand on her arm.
She drops her cutlery with a clatter and looks at me, her hazel eyes shining with unshed tears.
“You have never failed me. Not once in any way, shape, or form. You’re my platonic soulmate and my sister and the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. ”
She lets out a pathetic little sniffle that nearly breaks my heart. “So why did you hide this from me?”