by Jude Ouvrard
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.
I'm on my way out to the elevators, and I’m utterly exhausted. I’ve just had the most amazing night of my life. I’m already anticipating the next time I’ll get to see Abbie; there is a connection between us that is incomparable to everything else I’ve known.
I had to stop her when she had latched onto me in the bathroom. As much as I want her, she has to get better, both physically and emotionally. When…and if…we do go further, I’ll want it all. I don't want any part of her to be thinking about that asshole. I intend to have Abbie all to myself…someday.
''Hey, shithead!'' I hear someone yelling behind me as I head into the parking lot. I turn around, wondering who the hell it is.
It’s tie guy, Dean.
Shit. I thought we were done with him. What the hell does he want now? I decide to keep walking, but my fists clench next to my sides, just in case. The last thing I want is more problems with this fucking loser; he's not worth it. By the time he catches up to me, I’ve reached my car and the thought of backing him over is incredibly tempting.
''I bet you fucked her all night. Didn’t it feel weird to fuck her and smell another man’s scent on her sheets?'' His eyes are bloodshot, his hair a complete mess..
Seriously, this guy is fucking mental. We’re standing in a parking lot, random passersby are glancing our way and I just want to leave. ''I didn’t fuck her, as you so charmingly put it. I put some ice on her swollen face and I cared for her all night. We just filed a report on your ass, so if I were you, I would back the fuck up, before you have Seattle’s finest on your ass. Got it?'' I'm so fucking irritated right now. Adrenaline's pumping through my veins and my hands clench into fists. Calm down Presley, he’s not worth it. I have to leave before this gets out of hand, but I know I shouldn’t turn my back on him. He's like a fucking predator; stalking his prey.
As I get towards my car, he hits me.
Fucking Asshole.
''Come on, you’re going to hit me now? Wasn't it enough for you to hit the woman you supposedly love?'' I taunt him, even though it’s probably a lousy idea.
People are staring at him. Even though he's humiliated, he fakes a smile, and pretends he doesn’t give a fuck. I get in my car and leave him standing there like a moron. The adrenaline has kicked into high gear. I’m not the type of person who walks away from a fight. I didn't actually know I had that much self-control.
Sitting in the car, I dial Abbie’s number. ''Abbie, do me a favor and double check that your door is locked,'' I growl when she answers the phone.
''Why?'' she questions nervously, but I can hear her rattling the safety chain on the door and relief floods my chest.
‘‘Dean was in the parking lot. Just be especially careful, okay? Call me if you need me for anything at all. Please stay inside your apartment.'' My hand is shaking when I clench my fingers onto the steering wheel.
''Okay, I will.''
&nb
sp; ''Abbie?'' I wait for her response, wanting to make sure I have her absolute attention.
''Yes, Presley?''
''Be safe, I don’t want you getting hurt. He's dangerous.''
I’m glad she changed the security code on her alarm system this morning. I know she’ll be safe, as long as she stays inside. She's supposed to be having her locks changed later today, so that eases my mind a little bit more.
This is so fucked up. I finally meet the girl I’ve been waiting years for, and she's so loving, so pure, and this asshole is trying to destroy her. I truly hope he hasn’t hit her like that before. There’s no excuse for abusing a woman – ever. Not physically, not emotionally. Dean Hurley is a fucking prick, and I want to rip his fucking head off.
I need to distract myself or I’ll just turn around and go and beat the shit out of him. No doubt Josh’s already gone to work, but Ali's probably home. I’ll stop by her place first. I need to talk to someone.
''Presley Williams, refusing to fight? Did I hear you right?'' Ali makes it obvious she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
''I told you, Ali, this guy's crazy, as in mentally ill crazy. I didn’t want to risk it. It wasn’t like a fight in a bar. This guy wants to choke me with his obnoxious ties. Getting into a fistfight with him just didn’t seem like the smart thing to do.”
She's laughing, which surprises me. ''Well, in less than twenty-four hours this girl has changed you more than I’ve managed to do in the last twenty-four years.'' Ali sighs. “That’s good. It’s nice to hear she has that kind of influence on you.''
''It’s a lot more than influence; I’ve never felt like this about a woman before. It’s almost as if she owns me or something.'' I rub my face, trying to get it clear in my head, but I still don't know what’s going on. It’s all so confusing. I can't wrap my head around it.
''Soulmates?'' she suggests quietly. Her expression is deadly serious, and I know she wants the truth from me.
I smile grimly. ''Something like that.'' Could I already be in love with Abbie? It’s a distinct possibility.
''Will I get to meet her properly soon?''
''I hope so. I have a shoot in New York in two weeks, I’m leaving on Monday... but I hope I see again her before I leave.''
Ali’s eyes light up with excitement. ''Presley, why don't you invite her along?''
Is she crazy? I don’t want to scare Abbie away. Inviting her to go to New York is absolutely out of the question. This is way too fast.
''Nah, it’s too soon, Ali.''
''You should at least ask her,'' Ali insists. “She can always say no.”
''We’ll see.'' I’m not so sure it’s a great idea, though I would love to have Abbie by my side. It's a photo shoot for a magazine; I could probably bring her along with me without too much drama. I have to admit, the idea is appealing...and I could have her all to myself, get to know her better. I decide to give it some more thought, and see how the next few days pan out.
Abbie
The past ten days have been great. I haven't heard anything from Dean, and I've talked to Presley every day. I haven't been able to see him more than twice, but that’s okay. I'm taking things slowly. Presley turns out to be the type of guy who needs to make sure I'm doing fine. I know he’s been worried about me, particularly because of my asshole of an ex-boyfriend, but actually, I'm doing great. I feel free to live my life and now that my face has healed completely, I enjoy going to read in the park or the nearby coffee shop. That sort of thing was always an issue with Dean. He didn’t like it when I spent time alone in public. Jealousy was controlling for both him and me. I'm enjoying my life very much without him in it.
Presley interrupts my Sunday morning reading session with a phone call. I get almost giddy when I see his name show up on the screen of my phone. I love hearing the sound of his sweet voice.
''New York? Are you kidding me?'' I ask. To say I’m surprised by the invitation is an understatement.
''I know it's…hmm. I guess it’s a little too soon, we haven’t known each other long, but I thought you might like the distraction.'' I can hear the hope in his voice. He wants me to go with him. For Presley, it’s a way to make sure I was safe.
''When are you leaving?'' I question. I need to know if I can make a trip to New York work with my schedule.
''Monday. The flight leaves at one am.''
''Geez, Presley, that’s a little last minute, don't you think?'' I exclaim.
''I know... I...''
''Alright.'' I agree before he can continue.
''You’re coming?'' He sounds surprised.
''Yeah.'' I respond with a huge grin on my own face, happy it doesn't hurt when I smile anymore.
''I'll get you a ticket. We’re going to stay at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. Is that alright?”
Is he serious? How can you go wrong with a Marriott hotel? He had already hooked me with ‘New York’. ''It sounds great, Presley.” I chuckle. “I didn’t expect an offer to go to New York when you called.''
''Yeah, well, Ali thought... I... well... I thought it would be good for you to get away for a bit, you know, a little distraction. I'll have to work most of Monday, but I should be done around dinnertime and we can spend all day Tuesday together.''
I’m already nodding, even though he can’t see me. I’ll take what I can get. I love spending time with Presley, even if it's only for thirty seconds at a time. Plus, I like the idea of getting to know him better – it’s important to me.
''Okay, I'm sure I’ll manage to find something to do on Monday. It's New York, there’s got to be something interesting going on somewhere. I could probably spend my day in a bookstore, like the one in that movie ‘You’ve Got Mail’ with Meg Ryan.''
In actual fact, there are so many things I can do in New York. Visit the Statue of Liberty, or the Metropolitan Museum of Art, then there’s MOMA and Central Park! I’m excited about the idea, and I hope we’ll have time for a walk in Central Park – it would be incredibly romantic. Romance with Presley sound like the perfect escape from reality right now.
Presley is laughing. ''Whatever makes you happy, Abbie. If you don’t want to spend the day in the bookstore, you could always spend the day with me. You could be my assistant,” he suggests casually.
Oh! Maybe that was his plan in the first place; maybe he wants to spend the day with me, rather than have me go off sightseeing. I’ll be more than happy to pretend to be his assistant, for as long as he needs me. ''Sure, okay, I can always visit the bookstore later.''
I've never visited New York before; no matter what we end up doing, it should be fun. After disconnecting the extremely long call from Presley, I look around my apartment, already planning what I’m intending to pack. It’s only a one night trip, so I won’t need a lot. I make the decision that packing a backpack will do. I’ve never been the type of person who carries her entire wardrobe when she goes anywhere. I'm a pretty simple girl. Jeans and t-shirts always do the trick for me.
Planes. I truly don't like planes, they make me anxious. My palms sweat like a criminal in church, and I’m anticipating that every announcement is going to be informing us that we’re all going to crash and burn. It’s going to be a long flight and I intend on napping for most of it. Sorry, Mr. Presley! I certainly won't win travel partner of the year!
I'm so tired. It's 11:30pm and Presley has arrived to pick me up. We grab coffee and something to eat on the way to the airport. Once we arrive, we drink our coffees on the bench outside. I guess he doesn’t like eating in his car. Of course, he does have a nice car, and I have to admit he keeps it pretty neat.
After he called and asked me to go to New York with him, we talked on the phone for hours. My ear was hurting by the time we disconnected. Everything about Presley is intriguing, and it only makes me want to know even more about him. He is passionate, protective, artistic – and so freaking hot. The only thing I’ve found strange was his reaction when I suggested meeting him at his place, instead of h
aving him pick me up to go to the airport. He almost sounded panicked... and I don’t understand why. I'm not going to ask him now, but I get the feeling he’s hiding something. While I'm not letting it go, now isn’t the time to bring it up. I’m sure I’ll discover why he didn’t want me to come to his apartment at some stage in the near future, and if not, I’ll pry mercilessly until I figure it out.
The airplane is about to take off and we're sitting side-by-side in our seats. Presley caresses my knee with his fingers, and I lean my head against his shoulder. His cologne is intoxicating, a mix of lemon and various strong spices. I press feather-soft kisses on his neck and goose bumps form on his skin, confirming he likes it.
I don’t know what it is, but around Presley, I always have a need to touch him.
We’re halfway through the flight and I'm extremely tired. My eyes are getting heavy and my vision is blurring. I’ve been reading a lot lately, and I have to complete a report on this book in three days. A seven hundred page contemporary romance; it's been a great read, and I only have a hundred pages left.
I try to stretch out my cramped legs and arms in the confined space. Seeing my discomfort, Presley lifts my legs over his. He places a hand on each side of my face and kisses my lips, deliciously and passionately. Each kiss only serves to heighten my desire and awakens a yearning for him. He's killing me. I want to get closer to him, but sitting in an airplane doesn’t allow much room to manoeuvre. Presley pauses in his assault, gazing into my eyes; I think he’s trying to read me. I’m quite certain all he's going to see in my face is longing, hope and desire. He squeezes my knee gently and he seems nervous. ''You are the prettiest – you know that, right?''
“Mm hmm.''
“Go to sleep, Abbie. It's going to be a long day.”
He puts his arms around my neck and I doze off lying against his chest. What I wouldn’t do, to fall asleep like this every night, without fearing an argument or a battle. Presley is so different from Dean and I don’t feel any fear when I’m with him – he makes me feel safe and important.