Page 68 of Until I Have You

What if the tables were turned and Bonnie was the grown woman?

I don’t even want to think about that.Can’t.

“Bon, come on, take your coat off,” I call out to her.

My daughter breaks away from Abigail and rushes back to me.

I keep my eyes downcast as I help her out of her purple coat, the one she picked out herself.

I feel Abigail’s watchful gaze.

Bollocks, must she just stand there and wait?Why doesn’t she go sit down like her father instructed me to?

Except the perverse part of me, the one that’s become longer as the days have shortened, wants her to stay.Wants to tell Bonnie to run off so that I can have one singular moment alone with her, a moment during which I can show her every feeling I’ve had of her in the past two weeks.

I could do that in an instant.

Which is why it’s too dangerous for us to be alone.

Once Bonnie is free of her confines, she goes back to Abigail and grabs her hand, pulling Abigail toward the dining room.“Will you sit next to me?”

Abigail laughs, breathless, her red hair dripping backward.“Slow down, Bonnie, I have to say hi to your father.”

Every muscle in my body freezes.I forget how to breathe.

What did she say?

Abigail turns toward me.Everything is slow motion as she crosses the room.

“Hello, Theo,” she says, her voice swooning and low.

Must be my imagination.“Hello, Abigail.”

She grabs my hand, leans in, and kisses my cheek.

It could be friendly, but it absolutely isn’t.Not when I’ve known how she feels inside.Not when I know the planes and curves of her body so well I could sculpt her without even looking.

Before she draws away, she whispers in my ear, “It’s so good to see you.”

I say nothing.Do nothing.I wait for her to back away, the minx-ish smile on her face causing me to wonder if I’m in a dream.

Bonnie grabs Abigail’s hand again and pulls her toward the dining room.“Come on!”

The two girls disappear through the door.

My daughter.And my best friend’s daughter.

Except Abigail is not a girl.No, she is a fully-fledged woman.She makes her own decisions, determines her own wants, acts when she is compelled to act on her own volition.

Her father was not involved in that night.

And he was certainly not involved in her decision to come over to me and kiss my cheek.Whisper in my ear.

Between my legs, there is a throbbing apex of pleasure forming.

“Bloody bollocks hell.”

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