Page 51 of Half the Summer's Night
I groan and lean up against a big marble slab, the memory hot and throbbing. I need my own release. That way, I can getback to making my rounds around Abi’s house. No one’s out here that I can sense, but I don’t like the idea of leaving her alone. Not one damn bit.
I fumble with my buttons and zipper. But before I can grab my cock and finish myself off, I feel her.
Abi.
I whip my gaze around and there she is, standing on the light-flooded porch again. Only this time, she has a flashlight with her, the light bobbing as she floats down the steps.
For a moment, all I can do is freeze in place, watching as she cuts across her lawn. Then I shove my cock back into my pants, but I don’t run. I’m too enraptured by the sight of her coming this way.
“Hello?” she calls out, her voice thin and wavery. A little afraid. “Are you out here?”
I step forward, my heart thudding. I don’t understand what she’s doing. Why she’s coming after me like this. I go to her. That’s always how it’s been, ever since I first laid eyes on her ten years ago. The only time she came to me, sort of, was when she met me for coffee a few days ago.
But that wasn’t me. That was Rowan.
Abi curses softly, the word carried on the wind. She stops at the street and swings the flashlight around. It’s too small to catch me from that distance, and I’m not sure what to do. Because I don’t understand why she’s here or why she’s looking for me.
But god, I want to find out.
“Hello?” Abi calls out again. “Seriously, I—You just ran off, and...”
Her voice trails away. For a second, I think she’s going to give up and go back into the house.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she crosses the street.
I wait for her, standing there with my aching, rock-hard cock and confusion tightening up in my chest. But I don’t want to run from Abi, and so I just keep watching her light dance around as she approaches the cemetery gate. She unlocks it, the keys jangling, and shoves it open with a creak.
Then the light swipes around, blurring like a comet. Abi’s steps are soft and rustling through the grass.
“What the hell am I doing?” she murmurs. Speaking to herself, I know, but even with the distance between us, I can hear her. “Fuck, I’m going to get myself killed.”
Thatsends a twist of pain through my heart. I can’t let it go.
“I told you I won’t let that happen,” I say, loud enough to announce myself.
Abi screams and drops the flashlight, plunging us into darkness. I can still see her, though, limned by the street lamps. And I can feel her: the spike of her heart rate, the soft tangle of her confusion.
“Fuck!” she says. “Where are you?” She fumbles around in the grass and then lifts the flashlight, sweeping it around again. When it lands on me, I swear I can feel it, all the warm molecules of its light.
“Hey,” I say stupidly.
Abi blinks at me. We stare at each other from across the cemetery, the markers jutting up like teeth.
“Why’d you run away?” Abi calls out, her voice soft. Almost shy, maybe.
I step toward her, walking into the sphere of the flashlight. When I’m close enough to her, Abi tilts it away from my face, which I’m grateful for. I prefer the dark.
“Well?” She says it the way a victim will, when they’re trying to be brave and talk back to me.
“I finished what I came to do,” I say carefully. “And I wanted to come back out here to pick up my rounds again.”
“Yourrounds?” The word trembles. “What, like, you’re looking for someone to ki?—”
“No,” I say sharply, right before I clear the rest of the space between us. Abi gasps softly and drops the flashlight to her side. She looks so pretty out here, drenched in moonlight.
“Turn it off,” I tell her. “The flashlight.”
