Page 72 of Something that Could Last

“Are you off tomorrow?”

“I was, but I picked up a shift here to make up for the hours I lost Sunday.” She winces at the thought of lost wages. I hate that she has to live like that.

“What time?”

“Two to ten.”

“Good, that gives us plenty of time.”

“Time for what?”

“I’m taking you to lunch.” For some reason I’m nervous, hoping she doesn’t refuse. “I promised you we’d go back to Wolf’s Den Lodge during the day, and I always keep my promises.”

She grins and tucks herself into my chest. “Thank you,” she whispers.

AT SIX FORTY-FIVE,there is a much-anticipated knock on the door and I spring out of my chair to answer it. Abby stands on the other side with a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder, her athletic body clad in running shoes, shorts, and a tank top.

“Hey,” I greet her and take the bag from her arms.

“Hey. I need to go for a run.”

“Let me change and I’ll go with you.”

I really should have known better than to agree to run with Abby again. You’d think I would have learned my lesson from the last time, but I didn’t. This time is exceptionally brutal. The late evening heat and peak humidity make it hard to breathe, and it seems my companion is trying to outrun something. The pain, the fear, the helplessness. It’s as if she can’t run fast enough to get away from Saturday night. I do my best to keep up with her, letting her know I’m here. Whatever she needs, I’m right here beside her.

When we finally get back to the cabin, I collapse onto my bed and Abby heads for the shower, bag in tow. I want to join her, but aside from being exhausted, I’m afraid to push things too far right now. I’m just going to follow her lead. When she’s ready, she’ll let me know.

I do my best not to think of her for the twenty minutes she occupies my bathroom. When I start imagining her slick, naked body surrounded by steam, I jump out of bed and head to the bathroom down the hall. I’ll just take my shower in there. Another cold one.

I return to my bedroom just as Abby steps through the bathroom door, towel-drying her hair. Her hand pauses and her step falters as she takes in my bare chest and the towel wrapped snugly around my hips. I stride over to where she stands and cup the back of her head. Her quick intake of breath just before my lips meet hers doesn’t go unnoticed. Too bad she’s already fully clothed. I move my lips and tongue softly against hers, pulling away before things get too heated. The room is thick with palpable tension. Our bodies need each other, but our hearts need to take things slow.

I walk to my dresser and pull out some clothes, placing them on the bed and turning my back to her. My towel falls to the floor and I feel her eyes on me as I slip on my briefs, followed by the rest of my clothing. I turn to catch her staring at me wide-eyed, her lip trapped between her teeth. I smirk, knowing I’ve had the desired effect on her.

“You hungry?”

She blinks, raising her gaze to my face and releasing her lip. I lift one eyebrow, waiting on her to respond.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” she answers finally.

I leave her to finish drying her hair and whatever else girls do after taking a shower, and head towards the kitchen. I slice up strips of steak and dice peppers and onions and season them before throwing them into an oiled skillet.

“Mmmm, something smells really good.” I look over my shoulder and find Abby watching me from the other side of the island.

“You like fajitas?”

“I love fajitas.”

I slide her a plate full of ingredients and a mixing bowl. “You want to get started on the guacamole?”

“Sure. What do I do?”

“Just mash the avocados and mix everything together. It’s already been measured out. Then just test it and see if it needs anything else.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“Dated a culinary student my junior year.” I stir the meat and veggies and place tortillas in the oven to warm. “Took me four months to realize she was bat-shit crazy, but by then, she’d taught me quite a bit,” I admit honestly. “The rest I learned from The Food Network.”

“Wow, I could eat like this every night,” Abby groans, pushing her empty plate away.

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