CHAPTER TWELVE
ABIGAIL
“I don't know why I got my hopes up. It was stupid. Really, really stupid,” I said, sniffling as I spoke to Kirby on the phone. “I mean, we made it clear what we were to each other. We were nothing more than friends with benefits. It was what we agreed upon. And yet – here I am, crying and brokenhearted anyway. This is why I don't get involved with guys, Kirbs. It never ends well for me.”
The poor taxi driver didn't say a word as I had my meltdown in his back seat. I'd managed to flag him down before he left, thankfully. But I was in tears when I climbed into his car. He simply looked at me and then looked away, waiting for me to tell him where to take me.
“I'm sorry, girl,” she said softly on the other end of the line. “I shouldn't have encouraged you to go over after dinner tonight. You just seemed so excited to talk about him and – well, yeah, that was a bad idea. I'm sorry, sweetie.”
“Not your fault,” I said. “I'm the one who got hung up on him even though I said I wouldn't. Even though I knew I shouldn't. It's not your fault, and hell, it's not even his fault. It's my fault. I should have known this was a bad idea. I never should have gotten involved with him in the first place. I know me and I should have known better. I'm an idiot.”
My phone buzzed with an incoming call. I looked and sure enough, it was Harry. I declined and went back to talking to Kirby. The last thing I wanted or needed in that moment was to talk to him.
“He's trying to call me now,” I said. “Ugh. I know I have no right to be mad at him, but I am..”
“Well, at least you finally got laid,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “So, at least something good thing came from it.”
“I suppose,” I said.
Yeah, I got laid – and I didn't realize how badly I'd needed to get laid until sleeping with him. But now it only made me want him more. The amazing chemistry, that connection with him – it had been incredible. And now, to know that for my sake, I needed to step away, and never get more than that small, simple taste of pleasure was going to kill me.
“This is why people need to leave me the hell alone and let me work,” I said.
My phone buzzed again. This time, a text message asking me to call him and saying, “It's not what it looks like.”
Come on, I've heard that one before. Did he think I was an idiot? Hell, maybe I was. I did talk myself into getting involved with him in the first place. I got off the phone with Kirby as the driver pulled up to my house. As I got out of the car, I saw a familiar face sitting on my porch.
Harry. Because my night wasn't fucked up enough as it was.
“What are you doing here? How did you even find out where I lived?” I asked him, walking up to my porch. “Don't you have a party going on over at your place?”
He stood up, towering over me now. “It wasn't a party. It was a stupid idea my friend had, and I wasn't into it. At all. I invited them over for him, Abigail. I wasn't doing anything with anybody. I swear it to you.”
“How did you find out where I lived?” I repeated.
Harry shrugged, then looked past me as if he wanted to avoid the question. It said something when he would rather talk about the naked girls at his house than answering a simple question like that. It was actually kind of amusing.
“Come on, tell me,” I said, feeling an awkward smile stretching across my face.
“I called your mom,” he muttered. “I asked her where you lived, told her you hadn't let me come over to your place yet and I had a surprise for you.”
“You have my mom's number?”
“She gave it to me when you were using the bathroom when they came over for dinner,” he said. “Said if I ever needed help with you, to call her. Said you sometimes liked to ruin perfectly good relationships. I told her that made two of us.”
“You went through all that trouble for me?”
He nodded. “I did, yes,” he said. “Because when I saw you leave, my heart hurt, Abigail. I wanted nothing more than to run after you and explain what happened. Explain that I was trying to be a good friend to Tom. To tell you that I was thinking about you the whole time and how I couldn't wait to get them out of my house.”
“You don't have to lie to me, Harry. I know we're not that serious –”
He cut me off with a kiss.
“Maybe we're not right now,” he said. “But maybe I want to be.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, my heart racing as I stared into his gorgeous, gray eyes.
“It means – well, as much as I hate to admit it, Abigail, you're the first woman I've met who I can't stop thinking about. You're the first woman who's ever made me think, 'Geez, I'd rather spend time with Abigail than sleep with this blonde model wannabe. .' You have managed to turn my world upside down.”
“I guess I should be flattered?” I said.
“Maybe I didn't phrase it the right way,” he said. “I'm bad at romance. I've never been very smooth or suave. But what I'm trying to say is that I like you, Abigail, a whole lot more than I ever intended to. You're so much more to me than just a friend with benefits. And believe me, nobody was more surprised than me to realize that.”
I raised up onto my toes and crushed my mouth against his. It was as if I could feel the tension leaving his body in that moment.
“So, you forgive me?” he asked.
“Yeah, even though there’s really nothing to forgive,” I said.
“But there is. I’m the idiot that let you leave the other night after we slept together instead of convincing you to stay like I wanted. I’m the idiot that let my friend bring two naked girls back to my place when all I wanted was you. I’m the idiot that wants to make this right, to make it real,” he said.
I never, in a million years, would have expected for him to suggest that we take our fake-relationship and make it real .
I wasn't sure if I was ready for this. My emotions were everywhere. If he was bad at romance, I was a goddamn train wreck at it.
“What's wrong, Abigail?” he asked me, lifting my head to make me look him in the eye.
“I'm scared, Harry,” I said. “I'm scared of ending up with another broken heart.”
“You know what I do for a living, right?” he teased. “I can't promise you that I will never hurt you. That's impossible, and let's be honest, I'm kind of a douchebag at times. I know that. But I want to be better, Abigail. You make me want to be better. We're both career-driven, smart people. I think we could work well together. All I need is for you to give me a chance.”
“Maybe so,” I said.
“So, is that a yes to giving it a shot?” Harry asked, a smile on his lips.
I gave him a small smile and a nod. “Yes,” I said, feeling as if I might burst with joy.
For once in my life, I could finally see things going my way.
The End