Page 11 of Something that Could Last

“I'm sure Jack wouldn't mind dropping us off on his way to work.”

Abby thinks on this for a moment before conceding. “Okay.” I'm stunned that she agreed but relieved at the same time.

“You're riding in the back with me,” Luke says excitedly to Tiffany as he picks her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, squealing with delight when he cups her ass and walks her to the Range Rover.

“Looks like I'm up front with you,” Abby pronounces as our friends climb into the back of my SUV.

“If those two ruin the leather, I'm leaving them on the side of the road,” I tell her, only half joking.

She laughs at my remark, a full-on belly laugh, and it's refreshing. I wait for her to grab a few things out of her truck before opening the passenger door. Luke and Tiff are already in the back seat, giggling and fondling each other. I take advantage of their preoccupation to share a private moment with Abby. Before she steps up into the front seat, I pull her to me and place a gentle kiss on her lips. When I back away, she's smiling at me, a sight I could get used to.

“I had a good time tonight,” I tell her, brushing a stray wisp of hair from her face.

“Me too. Sorry I almost got you into a bar brawl,” she replies sheepishly. “Sometimes my temper gets the best of me.”

That’s something I understand all too well. “I don't blame you. That Grant guy is a dick.”

“That he is,” she agrees.

We finally get into the car and take off, Abby directing me to Tiff's house. She was right. It's not far, but the winding roads and lack of street lights make this a dangerous route for even a sober driver. I'm even more relieved now that she agreed to let me take them home.

When we pull in to the driveway, Abby unfastens her seatbelt and reaches for the door. Before she opens it, she turns to me and says, “Thanks for the ride. I guess I'll see you around.” She looks over her shoulder to the back seat. “Come on, Tiff. We're here.”

She's brave. I wouldnothave looked back there, considering the sounds they've been making.

“Already?” Tiff whines, the pout evident in her voice.

“Yep. Let's go.”

“Bye, babe. I gotta go.”

Tiff is talking to Luke now and I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. Abby makes a gagging gesture then rolls her eyes. My laughter fills the vehicle, drowning out the disgusting sound of lips smacking in my back seat.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Luke promises.Yeah, right.I've heard that lie about a million times.

Tiff jumps out of the car and Abby opens her door to get out.

“Hey,” I say to get her attention. “I'll see you later.” I mean it when I tell her this. I have every intention of seeing her again.

“Bye, Jacob.” I watch her until she’s safely in the house and Luke crawls into the front seat.

“What a night,” he exclaims, raking his fingers through his dark hair.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, yeah,” he responds. “By the way, I'm pretty sure Tiffany's last name should be Dyson,” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Son of a bitch.

Abby

THE RHYTHMIC SOUNDof my feet thumping against the pavement calms my jittery nerves. My legs burn and my lungs scream for oxygen. I've replayed the events of last night over in my head at least a dozen times. I can't believe I let Jacob kiss me after only knowing him for a few hours, but oh, what a kiss it was.

My lips tingle at the memory. I've never been kissed like that before in my life. His eyes drilled into me with a feral need before his mouth consumed mine. I was aroused the moment our lips met, his own arousal evident when he pressed it against my belly. My body responded to his immediately, moisture pooling between my thighs. I almost asked him to take me right then and there. I'd had too much to drink, and it had been far too long since I'd been that turned on. Scratch that. I’veneverbeen that turned on.

Even with the unbridled lust I felt for Jacob, I can't believe I let him drive us to Tiff's house. I barely even know him, yet I already felt so comfortable with him, like I could trust him with my life. He was so concerned about us getting home safely, and when Grant was harassing me, he came to my rescue, wedging himself between me and my drunk ex. I really wanted to deck him when he called me “Abs.” I hate that nickname. That's whatsheused to call me. Before she ran off to God-knows-where with her drug dealer boyfriend.

I've only heard from her twice since, and the last time was nearly two years ago. Both times, she called to ask for money. At first, I was dumb enough to give it to her. I believed her when she said she'd pay me back. Of course, that never materialized. I'm sure she used the money to buy supplies to cook meth with Mickey instead of using it for food and gas as she said. The next time she called, I refused to give her anything else. She'd already swindled three hundred dollars from me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. That's when she reverted back to her old self. She cussed me up one side and down the other, calling me every name in the book. She must have really been fiending, her belligerence a sign of how badly she needed a hit. But I'd had enough of her abuse. I told her to get help and hung up the phone.

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