The sun is about to drop below the horizon. Abby leans against the railing, staring at the Tahoe sky. Streaks of orange, purple, and rose paint the evening. She loves the sunsets here. The colorful shades washing the trees and the lake with a golden glow. She’s always saying that people are like sunsets. Unique and each one beautiful on its own.

“Grandma made a point to watch them every day,” Abby says absently.

“Them?”

“The sunsets,” she chuckles and shakes her head. “Grandma used to say that no matter how bad the day was, the beauty of the setting sun could erase it.”

“You’re right. There’s no two alike.”

“Hey, gorgeous,” I call after her, lifting my phone and taking a picture of her.

The halo of light around her makes her look like an angel. She’s my own beautiful sunset.

“What else do you remember about your grandmother?”

She bites on her lip while exhaling deeply. “I lived with her from the time I was little. Mom moved back home with her right after I was born. A couple of days later she left saying that she was too young to deal with me.”

“How old was she?”

“Twenty-eight.” She shrugs, turning around and staring at the now dark horizon.

“Sorry.”

The trauma from being ditched by a parent never goes away. There’s always that inner child wondering “what is wrong with me?” Believing I must have done something terrible to be left behind—I must be unlovable.

“It’s all good. Grandma was amazing with me. She taught me how to count. We would count steps, marbles, rocks, and while we rode the bus we’d count cars.”

I hold on to the new pieces she’s giving me. Counting soothes Abby, and now I know the connection. Just like the importance of watching the sunsets.

“What happened to her?”

Abby turns around, tilts her head to the side, and exhales sharply. “Respiratory complications.”

“Who took care of you afterwards?”

“My mother had to come back.” She looks at me for several seconds, her lips pressed together. “Look, things weren’t pretty after Grandma died, and I’d rather not talk about my past. Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Did I upset you?”

“I feel like you’re psychoanalyzing me all the time,” she pauses, “It’s clear that our friendship has changed. We’re in this new and different relationship where we’re finding out if we can be more than friends.”

“We are more,” I clarify. “I know you, but I want to know more about you.”

“Be patient and let me tell you my story at my own pace, please.”

Be patient? I’m a fucking saint.

Does she have any idea how much I’m holding back for her. When I’m with someone, I’m demanding as fuck. Not that I’ve been with any other women in the past couple of years, however, before Abby, I’d be fucking the girl by the second date. But by the fifth date I’d usually already fucked up royally and had to move on. The big difference between Abby and every other girl I’ve dated is that I never considered getting to know them. They weren’t casual fucks, but I didn’t plan on having a serious, long-lasting relationship with them either.

In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a woman out on a date. If I wasn’t working, I spent most of my nights on the phone with Abby, unless I flew to Berkeley to spend the weekend with her, or we were here in Tahoe. My heart starts to palpitate when I realize that for the past few years I’ve been dating Abigail Lyons, just doing so without an official title.

“What are you thinking, Weston?”

“When was the last time you went out on a date?” I smirk, waiting for her to catch up with me.

We’re those kind of friends, and now that kind of couple. The kind who know what the other is thinking. We finish each other’s sentences. This new turn of events could mean that I can push things further a lot faster. Then, I remember that earlier today she told me that she wanted to take it slow when it comes to sex.

If sex is a trigger for her, it’s a red flag. She never made it clear if it’s changing the dynamic of our relationship or the act itself that makes her hesitant. Mom should’ve pushed for more information when Abby came to us. If something bad happened to her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I close my eyes tight taking a few deep breaths.

“So, when was your last date?” I repeat the question, relaxing as much as I can. Trying to untie the knot that’s formed in my stomach.

“Formal?” She scrunches her nose. “I haven’t dated in a long time. Between school, work, traveling with you, and your visits, the only person I’ve been going out with for the past couple of years is you.”

Her eyes open wide in surprise at the realization.

“In a way, we’ve been dating since you came back from your year abroad,” I say with a smirk and rise from my seat. “Even there I visited you often. We spent long weekends together either in or around England.”

“That’s … true.” She’s speechless, but I see the flash of amusement behind her eyes.

“There’s a difference though,” I take her into my arms, pulling her tightly against my body, “Now, I can kiss you whenever I want.”

I grab her sweet, beautiful face and kiss her. Her mouth feels like heaven, soft as a cloud. It’s a kiss that makes my head reel. I claim her spirit and hope to win her heart. A small whimper escapes from her lips into my mouth as my tongue thrusts inside her. I tangle my fingers through her wavy hair, claiming her. The real world disappears, melting away like a dream. We embrace in our special place, cocooned from the outside and reality. Just Abby and me.

This moment is everything I wanted. Yet, it’s not enough. I still want more of her.

All of her.

Controlling myself is getting so fucking hard. I swear, staying emotionally close but physically apart requires a particular skill. For the near future I’ll practice the art of balancing lust against patience. I’m sure it’s possible. I’ve been carrying this need for so long. Years.

Still, I’ll wait and give her the necessary space to become accustomed to the idea of us as a couple. It’s not easy to transition from best friends to a couple, and hopefully soon, to lovers.

Fuck. I can’t wait to get deep inside her. My lips demand more from her, and she complies, not by submitting but by matching the intensity of the kiss. The need in me is too much and too fucking hard to control.

I want to fuck her raw.

Hard.

I can’t resist the desire boiling under my skin.

Slow, I remind myself.

Fucking slow down. This is sweet, Abby.

She’s inexperienced, that’s what I gather from her request about going slow. Even if every nerve in my body is screaming to get her naked and, on her back, I must pace myself on how we take things to the next level.

I suck on her bottom lip hard before pulling myself away from her. It’s so fucking difficult to take it slowly. Maybe it’s the hardest challenge I’ve come across in a long time. I want to spend an eternity tasting her lips and loving her as she comes undone in my arms.

She gasps for air, her eyes shining with lust. My dick gets harder as she licks her full lips and stares at my crotch. Down boy. I take a deep breath, staring at the ceiling for a few beats.

“That was impressive,” she says with a throaty voice. “You’re a good kisser, Ahern. I might want you to show me your skills more often.”

“At your service, my lady.” I wink at her.

She smiles, her eyes brighten, and my heart beats fast. I brush some strands of hair away from her face and kiss the tip of her nose. It’s clear that she’s doing better. Her eyes look rested; her shoulders aren’t stiff. It’s been a good day so far. After she ate her sandwich, we swam a few laps in the pool and went out for a walk with Terry. Abby took a second nap while I worked for a couple of hours. When she woke up, she prepared a pitcher of blackberry mint daiquiris and a platter of strawberries.

“Tahoe agrees with you,” I say, staring into her beautiful eyes.

“We should live here,” she suggests, batting her eyelashes.

She says it lightly, but I can tell there’s some truth behind her request. This is her favorite spot in the entire world.

“If we did, what would we do for a living?”

“Anything. The sky is the limit.” She tilts her head slightly toward the horizon. “You could develop games, and I’ll be your bookkeeper. We can work here by the dock, or even here on the terrace. Wear shorts, eat strawberries all day, and drink daiquiris too. Even adopt a dog.”

“It gets cold during winter,” I remind her.

“You’re no fun, Ahern.” She scrunches her nose at my computer. “Are you done for the day?”

I nod but go back to my computer to check my email one last time. I print the reports I received from the Ava Stanley deal and close my laptop.

“My guy came through. I have the information you asked for,” I announce.

She tilts her head, sucking on her lower lip. “I didn’t know you had a guy.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Is he cute?”

“How much have you drank, Abbs?”

“I’m tipsy.” She shrugs. “What are you talking about?”

“The police reports. Do you want to read them?”

“Nah, I’m not drunk enough to read his lies or take a walk down memory lane,” she says and gasps, clamping her lips shut.

The comment makes my fingers itch. I want to grab the report and read it from beginning to end until I can piece together the puzzle that is Abigail’s past.

“We should take a break from all that,” she says, absently.

Her forehead wrinkles and she grabs her quartz bracelet. “What are we doing tonight?”

“It’s date night. Go out for dinner and come back to watch a movie, like we do every Friday,” I tell her, taking her hand and leading her toward the office that’s next to the master bedroom.

“Hmm.” She snatches her hand away from my grip and eyes me suspiciously. “We’re not counting all those years as dating, Ahern. You’re not telling our grandchildren that we’ve been together since my sophomore year of college.”

The straps of her flouncy top fall off her shoulders, distracting me from her comment. Our grandchildren. I can only focus on the fabric that barely covers the areolas of her plump breasts. My dick hardens with the thought of sucking the tips of those beautiful tits. Fuck. My pants shrink as my cock thickens pressing against the zipper.

“Are you okay, Ahern?”

“Never been better,” I say, fixing her top. “Why don’t you get ready?”

“We could stay home and eat on the terrace.”

Though I love the idea of staying home, I’d rather not be anywhere near a bed with this beauty. My self-control is running thin.

“Be ready in an hour, Lyons,” I say, picking up the documents from the printer and then heading to my bedroom.

“Bossy!” she yells. She then walks away.

“You love it when I’m bossy.”

“No, but I accept you the way you are, Ahern.” She blows me a kiss and goes into her room.