Page 89 of Relationship Goals

I don’t want to let her go.

•••

Abigail’s curled upnaked in my arms. She’s half asleep and snoring lightly, a catlike sound that makes me smile.

“I ordered Mexican food,” I tell her, unsure if she’ll answer or not.

Unsure if I should have woken her before I ordered food.

I’d order whatever the hell she wants, so if she doesn’t want Mexican, I’ll order something else.

“Mmm, Mexican.”

Relief spikes through me. I trace a circle on her hip, and she grins sleepily up at me.

“I’m starving.”

“I should have made sure I got what you wanted,” I say awkwardly.

“I’ll eat just about anything, honestly.” She stretches her arms up,yawning, and then hooks them around my neck. “Except dick. I’ve been told I’m not allowed to bite it.”

She bats her eyelashes at me, and I burst out laughing, then grimace at the image she’s painted.

“You are definitely not allowed to bite it.”

“I’m just kidding, you know.” She walks her fingers along my chest, then pinches one of my nipples with a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t bite it. It just makes me laugh.”

I pull her tight to my chest, kissing the top of her head. “I know.”

“Good,” she says, her voice muffled into my chest. “Just making sure.”

She’s quiet for a minute. “I wish I could peel your skull back and peek inside it.”

“What?” I ask, slightly alarmed.

“I was just wondering what you’re thinking about…what just happened.”

“Sex? With you?” My dick starts to get hard again, and I push my hips into her thigh, making her laugh. “I liked it.”

She pulls back slightly, pressing her palms against my shoulders. “You didn’t think I was weird? I’m sorry if I was weird.”

There it is, lurking just behind her enchanting mismatched eyes, that spark of hurt and fear I’ve seen a few times now.

“Abigail. I liked it. I likeyou,” I say, serious as I can be. “I don’t want to have sex with someone who’s…pretending to be something they’re not. I like that you…” I’m struggling with words. Words are not my thing. “I like that you are who you are.”

It’s inadequate. It’s not enough. I don’t know how to tell her that I’m afraid I’m going to become obsessed with her, that her realness and quirkiness is going to absolutely be all I want. I don’t have the words to tell her my last girlfriends thought it was strange how hard and fast I fell for them, that they accused me of being jealous when I wasn’t—I trusted them.

I just wanted to spend as much time as possible with them.

I don’t know how to tell her that without scaring her off, too, and that’s the last thing I want.

Guilt and shame slam into me, because my next thought is that the stakes with Abigail are higher than ever—I want her, and I’m going to keep wanting her, because that’s how I’m wired—but I also need her.

I need her to stay with me if I have any chance of getting back up to Seattle to help my mom.

Chapter Twenty-three

Abigail

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