by Nalini Singh
“Give me till the baby comes,” he bargained. “If you don’t think we’ll make it at that point, I’ll agree to whatever you want. We’ll be friends, co-parent, nothing more.”
Sarah’s fingers curled against his chest. “I don’t know if I can,” she said at last, the words falling like rocks on his hopes. “I was so alone, Abe. I waited for you to call me after that night, to come for me. You never did. You left me all alone.”
He heard the tears she was trying not to shed. They eviscerated him. “I’ve got no excuse for that.” Sarah had no family in the city, no one to whom she could’ve turned. “I didn’t do it on purpose, that much I can say.”
Dark eyes met his, stark knowledge in their depths. “Did you take drugs after I left that night?”
“I took a bunch before we ever spoke.”
Her pupils dilated. “What? You weren’t sober when we fought?”
Abe could’ve taken advantage of that fact to play Sarah’s soft heart, but he wasn’t that guy, wouldn’t ever use her. “Doesn’t excuse what I did,” he said flatly. “And yes, I took more after you left, a shitload of them. And I kept doing it for weeks, chasing it down with the hardest liquor I could find.”
“The others—”
“—were all out of town.”
She lifted a hand to her mouth, horror a bleak shadow across her beauty. “You were alone that entire time? You could’ve—”
“Killed myself?” Abe nodded. “Yeah, I know.” Another ugly truth he’d had to accept, stop hiding from. “Noah’s the one who eventually found me. I was messed up and fucked up.” No way to pretty that up. “He called the others, waited until I passed out at a club, then they hauled me into rehab.”
“I’m glad.” Relief sent a tremor through her. “But the fact you didn’t think to call me once you came out of the drug haze… it proves my point.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Muscles bunching, Abe sat up with his elbows braced on his knees, the sheet pooling around his waist.
He rubbed his face with his hands, felt the harsh stubble already forming on his skin though he’d shaved before picking up Sarah. Then he admitted the worst of it. “I was angry at you,” he said, one hand gripping the wrist of the other. “Out of it or sober, I woke up thinking about you, only you, every single day, and I was so goddamn angry with you.”
He heard the rustle of sheets as Sarah sat up beside him. “Because I touched the piano?”
“Because you made me feel.” He squeezed his wrist hard enough to cut off the blood flow. “Before you, I could self-medicate with drugs, numb myself to the extent that nothing mattered and I could forget that I’d buried my baby sister when she was only eight. A baby sister who looked to me as her hero—but I could do nothing when the cancer began to eat at her. Nothing.” His demons howled, dark and twisted inside him, and suddenly all he wanted was the numb nothingness of drugs, the false ecstasy that shut out the agony of brutal reality.
Shoving off the sheets, he got out of bed and pulled on his boxer briefs. Then he dropped to the floor and began to do push-ups, making sure to keep his form viciously straight. If Sarah thought him mad, she didn’t say so, remaining silent as he fought the clawing darkness that wanted to haul him back into the abyss.
Abe wasn’t about to go. Never again.
He spoke on an upward push. “But no matter how many drugs I took,” he said, “as soon as you walked into a room or even if I suddenly thought of you—and I thought of you a hell of a lot, especially when we were apart—my heart would wake up, start to beat your name, and part of me hated you for it. For having the power to call me back, to keep me from drowning in numbness.” He went down, his nose almost to the carpet, pushed up again, repeated the movement, waited for Sarah to speak.
“I didn’t know you felt anything for me.” Her voice shook. “Even before you said what you did that night, deep inside I thought I was just a convenient sex partner. Forgotten as soon as I was out of your sight.”
“Never that.” He did three more push-ups before he had the emotional control to continue speaking. “I wanted you from the instant you told that silly knock-knock joke at the party where we met. You laughed so hard at your own joke and there was such joy in you… I wanted that for myself. I wanted you to look at me with that open delight.”
SARAH STARED AT ABE’S MUSCLED BODY as he continued his punishingly strict movements, not a single part of his body out of alignment. “I didn’t tell you the joke,” she whispered, the events from that night unspooling in her mind like a film reel in full color.
She’d crashed the Beverly Hills party with a girlfriend she’d met at the minimum wage job she’d been working at the time, her earnings barely enough to cover her tiny room in a terrible part of town. Graffitied hallways redolent with the smell of alcohol and other noxious substances, gunfights in the street, screaming matches between couples and family members that came right through the paper-thin walls, that had been her reality.
It had still been safer than her childhood home.
However, determined to better herself and not scared of working hard, she’d kept putting on her cheap but neat “interview suit” and applying for jobs that paid a little more. That day she’d had one rejection too many—and the interviewer had leered so hard at her she’d had to go home and shower before her shift at work. The asshole had all but licked his lips as he spoke to her chest.
So when her work colleague said she had a contact who could get them into a fancy party, Sarah had said, “What the hell. At least they might have some nice finger food to eat—I can save a few bucks on groceries.”
Sarah had dolled up in a little black dress, figuring most people wouldn’t be able to tell at a glance that it was a knockoff of a knockoff—and black dresses fit in everywhere in LA. That much she’d learned in her time in the city.
Her colleague had been as good as her word; she’d gotten them into the party courtesy of a friend who was on the catering staff. But the other woman had disappeared with an older man not long into the party, leaving Sarah alone and feeling out of place and not sure how she’d get back home since her friend was the one with the car and they were outside the public transport area she knew well.
She’d decided to wait, see if the other girl came back.
Feeling stupid hiding in a corner, she’d made herself approach a group of people who didn’t look too snotty, told them the silliest knock-knock joke. And when one of the women had laughed, she’d laughed too, so happy and relieved that she wasn’t being rejected.
Abe hadn’t been in that group.
“I know,” Abe said, his muscles rigid as he held himself in position using only one arm, his other one folded over his back. “I was standing behind you at the time.”
Sarah frowned; she hadn’t met Abe until almost fifteen minutes later. They’d run into one another at the bar when she’d gone to get a glass of water after the group with which she’d interacted had all separated to see other people. Men had come on to her once they realized she’d been separated from the herd, invitations in their eyes, but Sarah had never been into meaningless sexual encounters. She’d always been looking for her man. For home.
Then Abe had asked her if he could buy her a drink sometime, and boom. “Did we meet by chance?” she asked, her heart thundering.
Abe did two more push-ups before angling his head to shoot her a heartbreaker grin. “Of course not. I stalked you.”
That racing heart of hers, it turned all gooey inside her. Never, not once during their relationship, had Abe given any indication that he’d chosen her, wanted her. Part of her had always believed that it was pure luck she had the right to call this gorgeous rock star her husband, that she’d just had the right timing.
To know that he’d deliberately sought her out at a party filled with beautiful, sophisticated women… It changed the dynamic of their entire past.
Sarah tried to think past the rushing in her ears, the heat in her cheeks. “Why did you do that i
f you didn’t want to feel?” It made no sense.
“Because I couldn’t stay away from you, couldn’t stop watching you from the instant I first caught sight of you.” Abe finally stopped the push-ups and sat down on the carpet, his hands braced behind him and his body right there for her to ogle, the tiger tattoo prowling up the side of his rib cage making her want to trace the lines of it with a fingertip. “The idea of anyone else laying a finger on you infuriated me.”
She just stared at him, her entire understanding of their past in pieces. “You never said anything.”
“I married you.” His eyes held hers, refusing to let her look away. “And I held on to you even when I knew I was screwing you up, messing with your head.” He clenched his jaw, his abdominal muscles an iron-hard wall. “By the time I got clean, got over being angry with you, and came to haul you home, you were with that fucker Vance.”
She heard the whip of anger, felt her own fury bristle to life. “I was in a bad place, Abe. My husband had abandoned me after all but calling me a gold-digging slut.”
Abe flinched but Sarah carried on, so angry at him. That anger had been growing inside her since the day she first realized he wasn’t coming for her. “I never intended to get into a relationship with Jeremy.” Hadn’t wanted to be in a relationship with anyone but Abe. “He just happened to come by the night I saw pictures of you painting the town red with half-naked groupies. You had your goddamn hand on a woman’s ass, her tits almost falling into your face! What was I supposed to think?”
“Fuck.” Abe didn’t talk again until he’d completed ten more push-ups. “I don’t remember most of that night.” Another push-up. “I only saw the photos after rehab, after I had the poison out of my system.”
Sarah’s anger turned into the crushing pain of knowing she could’ve lost him forever during that binge. Then, because Abe had stripped away his own shields, she did the same with part of hers. “All my life, I figured my body was the only thing of value I had. I don’t mean that in a mercenary way.” She tried to find the right words. “I thought my body made people like me, so that’s how I tried to form relationships.”
Sometimes she wanted to go back to the naive, needy, romantic girl she’d been and just hug her, tell her she had far more to offer the world—and that the boys who took advantage of her desperate hunger to be loved weren’t worth her emotions or her heartbreak.
“Even you only seemed to really like me during sex.” She swallowed. “So when Jeremy came on to me while I was numb from seeing those tabloid shots, imagining you with those groupies in our bed, I thought, what did it matter? Even if you’d rejected the only thing I had to offer, at least he wanted it.” She hugged her knees, unable to add the rest: that she’d already been vulnerable because of her screaming aloneness. The tabloid images had been the last straw.
Loneliness was her greatest fear.
She’d never told Abe why, never told anyone. Today she found herself wondering if she should… but keeping secrets tended to harden them to stone inside a person. Her chest ached with breathlessness, the pain an old one. She’d hidden her origins for so long, telling people as little as possible.
“One thing we have in common,” she said. “I don’t remember most of that night either.” She’d gone away inside her head, woken to find a naked Jeremy asleep beside her.
Abe’s jaw worked, his hand fisting on the carpet. “I got clean before coming to get you,” he ground out. “And I shot up the day I realized you were with Vance.”
She was the one who flinched this time.
“No, Sarah, I’m not blaming you.” Abe rubbed his hands over his head. “Cocaine is my demon. Alcohol was my crutch. All I’m saying is that you meant enough to me to break me.”
The declaration threatened to break her.
“Let me show you,” Abe said in that voice that held nothing back, that stripped him bare. “Give me a chance to be the man you deserve.”
Sarah was so scared. Not just for herself but for her baby. She didn’t want to be a single mom, but she’d far rather be that than be with a man who didn’t value her. Her mother had done that, allowed her “boyfriends” to beat her up, use her up, until one day one had gone too far. Sarah had repeated that pattern with Jeremy and with Abe.
Abe had never been violent, not physically, but the emotional wounds he’d inflicted still bled. Never again would she put herself in that position. She didn’t want the nightmare that had scarred her to mark a third generation.
She looked at the tattooed and pierced rock star who’d once been her husband. In many ways, the man he’d become since their divorce was a stranger to her, one who’d taken her on a midnight dessert date and who looked at her with eyes filled with what she wanted to believe was love. What if it wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy? What if Abe had changed? What if he did truly love her? What if he could be a wonderful father?
It was the last that swayed her most. Sarah wouldn’t protect her heart at the cost of stealing her child’s chance to have a father full time.
“All right.” She trembled within, terror and hope colliding to create myriad fractures. “But if things aren’t working by the time the baby is born…”
“Then we act like adults and make an agreement to look after our kid the best way we can while not being together.”
Sarah nodded.
Rising from the floor, Abe walked to the bed, looked down at her. “You want me to go home today?”
Sarah thought of all the lonely nights she’d spent aching for Abe, of all the lonely nights that might yet be in her future. “No.” She got up out of bed, found her robe. “Stay.”
Touching her fingers to his jaw, she smiled through the fear and the hope that was a flight of butterflies in her stomach. “You can go tire out Flossie while I put together some dinner. I’m starving.”
Abe smiled, kissed her fingertips. And it felt good, felt right.
CHAPTER 24
SARAH WOKE THE NEXT MORNING FACING AWAY FROM ABE, her body curved into the muscled warmth of his. He had one arm under her head, had thrown the other over her waist. It was a heavy weight, but one that made her feel safe, protected. His other arm though, it had to be numb. Still, she didn’t move, not wanting to ruin this moment.
Sunlight arced through a gap in the curtains, fine dust motes sparkling in the air. It was early enough that she could hear the birds tweeting loudly as they went about their business, no car sounds to break the peace. And she was all wrapped up in Abe.
Her eyes threatened to sting.
This had been one of her favorite fantasies during her marriage to Abe: just lying in bed with him on a Sunday morning, lazy and warm and with nowhere in particular to be. It had rarely happened though.
No more living in the past. Live in today. It was an order to herself. This would never work if she allowed herself to be held hostage to their painful history.
“Mmm.” A rumbling sound from Abe before he cuddled her even closer, pushing his thigh up between her legs.
Naked as they both were, she could feel his morning arousal hot and demanding against her back, but he wasn’t pushing for sex. He was just… holding her. And the tears, they came ever closer to the surface. She swallowed them in mute desperation.
Abe settled again.
Sarah barely breathed until it became clear he was still asleep. Relaxing, she allowed herself to wallow in this moment when a romantic fantasy had finally come true. Her lips curved a little shakily. Finally that teenage girl who’d haunted the romance novels section of the library and who’d believed in true love was having her faith justified.
At least for this moment.
That moment lasted for over half an hour. Abe apparently woke up in stages when he was sober and in no hurry to be anywhere else. He nuzzled and cuddled her, never releasing her from his grip. When she said a smiling, “Good morning,” all she got was another rumble from his chest.
It was over five minutes later—according to her cute little
bedside clock with its old-fashioned bells atop a round face—that he pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck and said, “Morning, beautiful.”
That teenage girl, she just melted. Sarah the adult attempted to stay firm, but it was near impossible with Abe sounding so lazy and drowsy. Maybe—a sudden stab of worry—he didn’t even know who it was he was snuggling.
“Sarah.” He rubbed his bristly chin against her shoulder at the same time that he ran his hand down the curve of her waist and over her hip. “God, you’re sexy in the morning.”
She laughed because a smooth operator, Abe wasn’t. “And you’re clearly in the mood for something.” His erection felt like hot stone against her back.
He nibbled on her shoulder at the same time that he cupped her between the legs. That quickly, her laughter turned into a moan. He knew her far too well; he used his fingers to play lazily with her clit until she moved restlessly and parted her thighs in a silent invitation. Taking it, he lifted her thigh higher and entered her from behind in a slow, deep slide that made a throaty moan emerge from her mouth.
Pushing home, Abe gripped her hip and nuzzled at her as he moved in tiny increments, less thrusting than rocking.
A thousand emotions twisted around and inside her, building and building. Somehow this lazy morning intimacy felt far more powerful than the wild passion of the previous day. Maybe because he was holding her, maybe because…
Sarah didn’t have the words or the thoughts for it. She just knew she’d shatter if he didn’t… do something.
“What do you want?” It was an erotic question in her ear, but even as he spoke, he was touching her again, using one big finger to stroke her clit exactly the way she liked. Then he began kissing her throat.
Pleasure broke through her in small, pulsing explosions. Like little fireworks going off inside her. When Abe rolled her over onto her front without breaking their intimate connection, she went, let him cover her, his hands sliding under her body to cup her breasts while he moved lazily in and out of her.