Page 55 of Until I Have You

I couldn’t care less about a woman’s dating history.It has nothing to do with me.As long as she’s faithful.Learned that the hard way.

Abigail blinks, her lashes slicked with mascara.“Oh right, I forgot you were going to be here tonight.”

Sure, she did.

I would laugh if I weren’t confused.She seems chilled.I thought we got past that a month ago when she expressed her wariness of me.I thought we broke through that layer of ice.A thick layer that she chose to thaw.

But now she’s sealed it again.Against me.

And I can’t believe I am, but I’m hurt.

“No wonder you suggested the club,” Bridget says.“It must have been something psychological.He mentioned it and planted a seed.”

“Must be,” I say in a grave tone.

Bridget’s brows jerk downward.

Bollocks.I’ve probably made her think I’m annoyed with her.

“Well, we don’t want to interrupt, we’ll just talk between us and let you–”

Abigail doesn’t let her finish.“You two having fun?”

I resist giving her what she wants.A reaction.

Abigail loves a reaction and, most of the time, I love it.I love giving her exactly what she wants.Love the thrill of her laugh when she realizes she’s “won,” whatever that winning is.

It’s different when it’s just us two.Or three, I should say, since we’ve never been alone together.Never wholly alone.We’ve always been with Bonnie or surrounded by her family.

Right now, I’m supposed to be on a date, and she’s supposed to be having a drink with a friend, except she’s inserted herself into the gray space between these twoseparateinteractions.

She did it with Lourdes.That time, she was trying to protect her friend.

But why now?Is she trying to protect me?

“Yes, we’re getting on just fine.”Miranda leans herself into me.

“That’s good,” Abigail says with a placid smile.“You’re lucky the dungeon is just over there if the getting on gets past fine.”

Bridget gasps.“Abigail!”

“What?I’m just joking,” she says with a flippant shrug.

Her eyes meet mine, a vise I haven’t known before.Holding onto me.

I get to my feet without thinking.“Abigail.A word?”

I don’t wait for her to reply.She’ll follow.And if she doesn’t, Bridget will pull her away.

The latter would be better for both of us, though my insides want to keep her close.It would be better if she left.Ignored my wish for conversation.

I exit the main room into one of the red carpeted hallways, the quiet one that leads to the library and the like.It’s empty, thankfully.

I’m not sure how much longer I can stew in this fantasy.The one I think about late into the night when I need something to hold onto.Not just the idea of her body on mine, but the whole shebang of every domestic thing I can think of.I’ve imagined all of it with Abigail.

Her footsteps are measured and quiet, but I hear them.“Yes?”

I turn to face her.Alone.We arealone.And yes, anyone could round the corner and see us, but the isolation is not lost on me.The quiet.

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