Page 95 of Boyfriend
Dalton groans, scrubbing his face. “You’re right. I don’t know what to do about him. I don’t have a damn clue. I was just trying to go easy on him for Lila.”
“He doesn’t need someone to go easy,” Weston growls. “But I guess you know that now. That asshole kept Abbi on the run from her only home.”
“Jesus.” Dalton goes pale. “Abbi, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay now,” I croak. It’s not like I want to move back in. “But I refuse to be around him again. Not even on Thanksgiving.”
“Okay, okay.” Dalton sits heavily on the wood floor, looking uncomfortable in his suit pants and white shirt. “Can I take you two to dinner? I feel terrible.”
I almost say yes. It’s on the tip of my tongue. But I don’t want to go out with Dalton. I want a night just with my boyfriend. “That’s a nice offer, but we have plans,” I say quietly. Because I’m finished being the girl who works too hard to stay in Dalton’s good graces.
I’ve got to stop being afraid to ask for what I need.
“All right,” he says heavily. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He glances around the room. “Is it pushy of me to ask if you have plans to get some furniture? You said no when Lila asked you if you wanted to look in the attic.”
“What if she said no because that meant dealing with Price?” Weston asks.
Dalton blanches. “Did you, Abbi?”
“Maybe,” I admit. “Can we talk about it another time?”
“Of course,” he says, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. “Please take care of yourself, and we’ll talk soon.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Dalton lets himself out, and the sound of the door closing echoes in my empty space. “Wow,” Weston says. “There’s some drama for your Friday. Are you okay? What did Price try, anyway?”
I lean back against the wall and close my eyes. “Intimidation,” I mutter. “Humiliation. He pinned me against the wall just to be terrifying.”
Weston makes a very unhappy noise, and I hope he’s not plotting Price’s murder right now. “What do you need?” he asks after a deep breath. “How can I make this better?”
“You know what?” I wipe my hands on my jeans and will my body to relax. “You already are. It’s Friday night. My mattress isn’t due to show up for…” I check the time on my phone. “Ninety minutes. I asked them for the latest time slot, because I didn’t know if there was a team dinner you’d have to go to.”
Weston shakes his head. “I’ll see them tomorrow.”
“Can we go sit down at a restaurant on Church Street? I just want to go out with you. I want to have fun.” There’s that word again, although it’s growing on me. I haven’t made enough time in my life for fun.
I could start now.
“That we can do.” Weston gets to his feet, then holds out a hand to pull me up. “Let’s see… Sushi? Ramen? Burgers? What are you in the mood for?”
“Just you,” I whisper. “I don’t care what we’re eating. I just want to have dinner with you.”
Weston stops in front of the door and turns around. His smile is tender as he pulls me into his arms. “That’s easy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I agree as he gives my cheekbone a slow kiss. “I’m easy to please.”
“You know what else is easy?” he asks, kissing the corner of my mouth.
“What?” I brush my knuckles against his evening stubble.
“Me,” he says, nipping my ear. “I’m easy. And I will show you how easy about fifteen minutes after that mattress shows up.”
“Will you, now?”
“Bet on it, girl. Bet on it.”
Thirty-Three
