by Lyssa Layne
''I might scare you.'' I think about my tattoos and piercings – she doesn't seem like the type of woman who would be into them.
''Why would you scare me?'' She raises one eyebrow curiously.
''I’ve been told sometimes that I intimidate people.'' Well, maybe not Abbie, if her calm appraisal of me is any indication. I take off my shirt and let it fall to the floor. She’s watching me with those gorgeous green eyes and I know she sees right through me. And she’s not fazed in the slightest. Tattoos cover not only my arms, but my entire torso and back.
''You don’t scare me, Presley. But that,” she nods toward my nipples. “I mean come on, the tattoos I get, but piercing your nipples? That must have hurt like hell.''
''Yeah, it did.'' I repress a shudder when I remember the pain I went through, having it done. ''I thought I was going to pass out. Joshua, my brother, almost did.''
''Mmm hmm...'' she mumbles sleepily.
I start to slip off my jeans. ''Go to sleep, Abbie, we’ll talk more in the morning.'' I stare down at her and feel so guilty that my actions have caused this. I can't stop looking at her, she is so damn perfect.
After an hour of thinking and staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, Abbie rolls closer to me. She settles her head on my chest and intertwines her legs with mine. I didn’t expect it, and I’m certain she doesn’t realize what she’s doing. Despite how turned on it’s making me, I don't care; I’m loving every second of it. I place an arm around her shoulders and kiss her forehead tenderly, careful not to touch her swollen cheek.
I can’t fall asleep; I can’t stop myself from staring at her. She is so beautiful but filled with so much hurt. I hope she makes a full recovery from the abuse that bastard has inflicted on her, not only physically but mentally. My sister, Joy-Anna is always talking about love at first sight. When she first met Derek, she said she fell in love with him instantly. She felt her whole life being connected to his, told me that she had absolutely no control over it. That's how I feel about Abbie. I’ve only known her for a few hours but my heart and soul both seem to need her. On the other hand, there's an inner voice warning me to relax and take it easy, that I’ll come back to my senses in the morning.
I'm still watching her, studying her lips, her long eyelashes, and her perfect skin when I feel my eyelids getting heavier. I love the idea of falling asleep looking at an angel. I'm only praying she's not a broken one. Regardless of what happens, I want to help her regain her footing.
***
I really, really need to take a piss, but I don't want to risk waking her up. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold it though. I’ve been awake for a while now, watching her. The photographer in me notices every curve of her body. I could make her look divine in a photo shoot, and I have an image in my head of the tattoo I wish I could see on her skin. I’m only daydreaming. I wouldn’t ask her to change a thing about herself.
I could so easily fall in love with her. It’s too soon, Presley.
She's starting to move, stretching her limbs. I watch her slowly opening her eyes. She seems uncertain, a little anxious. Actually, she looks a little pale—I hope she’s not going to be sick again. She’s peeking at me with those amazing green eyes, and definitely blushing. I’m sure she didn’t plan to wake up and find herself wrapped around my body. I think it’s hilarious, but I try not to laugh.
''Are you alright, Abbie?''
She rubs her eyes sleepily, and then frowns as if she’s in pain. Her cheek is swollen and bruised this morning.
''If I were you, I’d put the frozen peas on it again.'' I wait for her to respond, to say something but she remains silent. I turn on my side and lean my head on my fist, staring down at her. ''Are you okay, Abbie? Do you want me to leave? Say something, anything – please?''
At last, she speaks. ''I’m fine, honestly. I’m just surprised by how hot you look when you wake up.'' She grins, seemingly pleased with her joke.
''Wow... okay...” Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. “I didn’t expect that, but thanks... you look good, too.''
She slaps my shoulder. ''Shut up Presley. I look like shit. Half my face is swollen, and I don't even think I can smile. ''
''Ice. I'm going to get you some ice.'' I pull the sheets back and get out of bed. I can feel her watching me. I’m only wearing boxers and I know I’m a reasonably toned guy, but her avid attention is making me nervous.
''Presley?'' She sounds as if she’s going to ask me something, and for some reason, that makes me even more fucking nervous. ''Thank you... for everything,'' she says. She’s sitting in the middle of the bed with the worst case of bed head I’ve ever seen, and even looking like she does—no makeup, black and blue cheek, hair all crazy—she’s seducing me as no other woman ever has.
''No problem, love.'' Love? Really, Presley? You are such a loser.
I walk out of the bedroom, and all I can think about is how badly I need to use the bathroom and how turned on I am. I could have gone to her bathroom, but it would have felt weird. There has to be another one. I take a quick tour of the apartment and find it. I’m astonished to see the quantity of books Abbie owns. It’s incredible. I’m having a hard time believing that she could have possibly read all of them… there must be hundreds. I find everything from Shakespeare to Nora Roberts, Nicholas Sparks, Frances Day, and Nathan Patterson. She has quite the collection, and doesn’t seem to have a particular genre. I get the impression she reads anything that can be read. I grab some ice before I return to the bedroom.
''There you go. Hold this against your cheek.'' I hand her a bag of ice, wrapped in a dishtowel. ''I know it’s none of my business, but I think you should probably call the police and file a report.'' For a moment I think she’s stopped breathing. She's watching me with tears trickling down her cheeks.
''I think I should too,” she agrees quietly. “That’s what my dad would’ve suggested I do.''
I get the impression her dad isn’t around anymore. I recall the words Dean said last night “You're nothing without me! You have no friends, no family. You only have your job and this fucking place. You never go out; you're a hermit, a loner. I'm all you have, Abbie!” Fear is visible in her expression, she’s scared. Her ex is obviously a total ass: possessive and jealous.
''Maybe you should apply for a restraining order, Abbie. It would be safer for you.''
I‘ve only just met her, I don’t even know if we have a future together. I want to believe we do, but I have no clue what the future holds. One thing I do know—I want her to be safe, and as long as Dean’s around, I fear she won't be.
''I’m not exactly what you were hoping for, huh? Go on, admit it'' she says, without meeting my gaze. “Bet you never thought I would be this complicated, huh?” I can hear the shame in her voice and the concern. She’s obviously under the impression that I’ll ditch her – decide she’s not worth the hassle. She’s dead wrong.
''You are exactly what I thought you would be, Abbie. You’re smart; I can tell just by seeing all the books you own.'' I touch her hand, trying to get her attention. I want her to look at me and be proud of who she is. ''You’re sweet, and you’re sensitive, and you’re beautiful. Probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.'' I take a few seconds to watch her reaction, pleased when she attempts a tiny smile. ''You have a one of a kind smile and when I saw you again last night, when I touched you at the concert, I felt something. You're an incredible person, never doubt yourself.''
She's blushing again, and I love it so damn much. Her cheeks turn the perfect shade of red and it only adds to her cuteness.
There she goes, biting her lip again. I have to turn away before I’m tempted to kiss her, because if I do, it won’t be pretty this time, and it certainly won’t be gentle. The next time I kiss her, I may not be able to control myself.
Alicia
I haven’t heard from Presley since I saw him at Lucky 13 last night. I didn’t hear him come home either. I have to admit that I’m worried.
Since the Kelly situation, he's been acting differently. That bitch totally used him. She needed a career boost and she only had to get him to take a few shots of her to get it. As soon as she got her photographs, she was gone, never to be heard from again. With Presley’s connections, he could have easily destroyed her career if he’d been vindictive. He isn’t that type of person though, he isn't nearly mean enough. I would have done it, that’s for sure.
Josh is watching a football game on the flat screen. I'd prefer not to distract him during the game, but I need to know if he’s heard any news from Presley. I scratch my fingers through the hair at the back of his head. He loves that. ''Josh, have you heard from Presley since last night?''
''Hmmm? Nah, I haven’t. I didn’t even hear him come in last night. I was up until 4am, and he wasn’t home by then. Do you want me to call him?''
''No, it's okay.'' I can’t hide my concern. It’s just the three of us, for now. Derek and Joy-Anna are away on vacation. Maybe I should text him; he's normally pretty good at responding. It seems to be my only option for now.
Alicia: Presley, where are you? Are you OK?
I wait impatiently... Ding!
Presley: I'm OK. I’m with Abbie. She had a rough night. Her ex is a total ass.
Thank God, he's fine. Presley's like a brother to me and I worry about him.
Alicia: Just be careful, OK? I don't want you getting hurt or anything.
Abbie seems like a sweet girl, but her boyfriend looked like a psycho. The way he pulled her away from me was creepy and I didn’t like the possessive way he acted with her.
Presley: Yeah, don’t worry too much, Ali. I’m at Abbie’s place now trying to sort out some stuff.
That doesn’t sound very promising, but I’ll trust him. Presley’s old enough to deal with his own problems. I have to stop trying to protect him. Josh doesn't understand why I’m so protective of his brother. I’ve known Presley since we were five, and he's always been too nice to people. I think everyone tries to take advantage of him. I know he looks tough, but that’s just an exterior image.
The relationship Presley had with his father was never easy. Josh was always the ‘good son’; he did well in school and after finishing college, he bought a number of businesses, which have been very successful. Joy-Anna was the little sister; she got everything she wanted because she was Daddy’s little princess. But Presley was the artistic type; he didn’t fit their father’s mold of success. From tattoo artist, to painter, to photographer, no matter what Presley did, it was never up to his dad’s standards. Presley would never admit it, but I know it's been tough on him. I know he felt like he was a disappointment to his father for a very long time. He hid behind his art and has always excelled at everything he tried. He’s a true artist and he seems to be at peace now with his past.
From what Josh has told me, their mother was exactly like Presley. I don’t know the circumstances, but one day, she apparently decided she’d had enough of their dad. She just left the family home and never came back. They never heard from her again.
A few years later, their dad received a letter from an Italian law firm, saying their mother had been killed in a car accident in Italy. She had remarried to an Italian man after leaving them. Joshua was upset, but Presley, he didn’t say anything at all. He just went out and got a huge portrait of her tattooed on his chest.
Consequently, I’ve always looked out for Presley and been a little overprotective of the guy who seemed to miss out on his father’s love. Plus, I owe him my life. He saved me... and for that, I will be forever grateful.
Abbie
I know I have to file a report. Dean hit me and he had no right to do that. It’s what my Dad would want me to do. He would have never accepted any man behaving like that towards me, or any other woman, for that matter. Never. Besides, I have a witness. It'll be alright, Presley will be at my side. I keep repeating that in my head.
I called the police twenty minutes ago; they should arrive any minute now. Presley's holding my hand. He hasn’t kissed me since the night of the concert. I wish he would, but I think he’s trying to be good for now. I’m sure he will try before the end of the day; I can be very persuasive.
''Don’t worry about it, Abbie; you're doing the right thing. You need to be safe. I need you to be safe. I can’t help but think of what might have happened last night if I hadn't stopped him.'' He rubs his hands over his face in frustration. “He's such an asshole, hitting someone who’s so defenseless. He’s... I don't know, Abbie... but I'm so fucking happy that I threw him out.''
''I’m sorry you had to deal with that.'' I keep checking my watch. ''You probably have time to take a shower if you want. I’ll have to explain to them what happened last night first, so I should be fine if they arrive before you’re done.''
Presley nods and stands up. ''A shower sounds pretty fucking good right now.''
He follows me to the master bathroom and I give him a towel and everything else I think he might need. It feels awkward because we are strangers still, and yet, I feel like I know him somehow.
''Wait a second, beautiful.'' He stops me before I can leave the bathroom and I turn back to him wondering what's wrong. ''Come here, Abbie,'' he murmurs and the expression in his grey eyes is soft and warm.
I do as he requests, and he wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly against him. I know he's watching me, waiting for me to look back at him. I raise my eyes to meet his, and my heart starts to melt. I’m not sure yet where I see Presley in my life. Savior? Lover? A friend? I just don't know.
He frames my face delicately with his hands and his lips meet mine. This is the most romantic kiss I’ve had in a very long time. The kiss at the concert was all about raw need, sexual tension. This kiss is smoother, tender, and so delicious. I kiss Presley back, knowing it’s too soon, but I want so much more. I need to regain some control. I hold on to him by the belt around his jeans, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not unbuckle his belt and unzip him. Trying to concentrate on the kiss and nothing else, I gently bite his bottom lip, and he goes wild. He brushes his tongue against mine, touching and twirling and tasting. God, I don’t want this to end. He tastes so sweet. I slip a hand underneath his t-shirt, desperate to touch his skin. He's so warm and he smells so good. I caress his abs and he groans. I deepen the kiss, taking control.
''Jesus, please, stop, Abbie,” he whispers in my ear. “We don’t have enough time for this, but believe me, I want you so fucking bad.”
''I know... sorry...'' I try to catch my breath. ''My fault.'' What on earth was that anyway, Abbie?
He leans his forehead against mine, and I can feel his heart stampeding beneath my fingers. ''Shit, I need a cold shower now.'' He's smiling and it’s so beautiful. Geez, I don't even know him, but I’m ready to break every rule. This is so unlike me. With an apologetic smile, I slip out of the bathroom and leave him alone.
I try to keep busy while he's in the shower. I make coffee, not even knowing if he drinks it. I hope so, otherwise, I’ll have some to offer the police. I should probably offer him something to eat, but I don’t think I can eat right now. I’m way too nervous, I won't be able to keep anything down. I don't want to vomit in front of him for a second time. I’ve been humiliated enough already in the past twenty four hours.
He strides out my room, shirtless and super-hot. I can’t help but stare at the huge portrait he has inked onto his chest. It's a classic woman, and the tattoo so realistic, it looks like a photograph. He slips his shirt on before I have a chance to ask about it. I offer him coffee, which he accepts, and we sit at my kitchen table. He seems to sense that I'm nervous, but he doesn’t say much.
''You smell like a girl, so cute,'' I announce suddenly.
He grins. ''Are you making fun of me? There wasn’t anything manly in your bathroom, so I had to use some of your stuff.''
“I might be,” I admit and I’m not sorry in the slightest.
There’s a knock, and it makes me jump. They’re
here. I'm so nervous I can’t move; every muscle in my body suddenly frozen. Presley pats my arm, and goes to answer the door for me.
They explain the procedure for making the report, pressing charges and requesting a restraining order. I’m more than a little shaken by the surrealness of the situation, and tears well in my eyes. Presley is totally supportive and holds my hand throughout the whole ordeal. All I keep remembering is Dean, and how crazy he looked. I’d never seen him behave like that before. I had seen him mad, but this was batshit crazy. Presley does most of the talking. I explain my part, and Presley explains what happened when he came into the apartment.
They talk and talk and I’m beginning to think this is never going to end. I have a headache, and I’m sure I can’t stand another minute of this. Presley asks about a restraining order, but I protest. I’m not convinced it will be necessary, and I’m hoping Dean got the message to stay away last night.
The police officer gives Presley the form we need to fill out for a restraining order, just in case I change my mind. I’m certain the assault report will be enough to scare the shit out of Dean. I don’t think he will try to contact me again. The officers finally leave, after taking photographs of my bruised and swollen face.
We're quiet for a few minutes, and I feel terrible about involving Presley in this mess. He saved me, and I’ll be forever grateful, but he shouldn't have to deal with this. We're cuddling on the couch. It feels like it’s too soon to reach this level of intimacy, but so good at the same time. I can’t think straight when I’m around him, but right now, with his arms wrapped around me, I don’t particularly care.
CHAPTER SIX
Presley
Abbie promised she would call me if she needed anything. I told her to lock her apartment door and keep it locked, unless she's certain of who's on the other side. My hope now is that she follows through with her promise.