Abandon

by Rachel Van Dyken

  He burst out laughing. “Yeah, I can send her a text. Just gotta ask my mom to do it on her phone since she won’t let me have a texting plan.”

  Gee, I wonder why? I smiled as he pulled out his phone and called his mom, then asked if she could send a text for him.

  Coolest kid ever.

  Maybe I should steal him? Save the whole baby poop phase and just have a little badass?

  Kidding.

  Maybe.

  Kidnapping was a crime so…I’d just stay the cool mentor. But really, it made me think about things that friends didn’t think about.

  Like Abigail pregnant with our son or daughter.

  Like us settling down after the tour was done.

  Putting down roots.

  Me wrapping her in my arms and making her coffee in the morning, touching her swelling belly, feeling kicks.

  “All right!” Connor interrupted my daydreaming. “Mom’s gonna do it. Now we have to plan something cool. Got any ideas?”

  “Bro.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Strap in, because we’re getting you a girlfriend.”

  “Not that I need help, though.” He sniffed.

  “Right. I mean, you’ve got this. But why not use me, you know?”

  “Right,” he agreed quickly.

  “Grab your guitar,” I instructed. “I’m going to teach you the song Sweet Caroline.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Abigail

  If living without Ty Cuban for ten years was heartbreaking, then living with him was absolute torture. The man needed more clothes. I had half a mind to burn what tight jeans he did have and toss out all the shirts that showed off his impressive body way too often. He ate like a horse, it wasn’t fair.

  And if I had to see him walk to the fridge and chug orange juice in nothing but that sorry excuse for a towel one more time, I would not be held responsible for my actions.

  I clenched my teeth.

  Today was open mic, which meant I was up with the band, helping the kids with their songs, when all I really wanted was to just see Ty. We’d fallen into this easy friendship where we refused to touch one another unless we were fighting—which was often.

  So the whole no-touch rule really didn’t work with people as explosive as us. If I wasn’t walking by him and tripping him or hitting him in the back of the head, he was stealing my pillow, blankets, or shoving me out of the way and winking.

  See? Torture!

  At least we were getting along.

  We were together.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Together. Just not the way I wanted to be. I wanted more, needed it more than I could even process logically.

  How had I ever walked away that first time? You couldn’t pay me to turn my back on him now.

  Maybe it was the years of maturity.

  Maybe it was knowing the truth about myself, the reality that I’d been young, stupid, afraid, and judging one mistake as if I were perfect.

  I wasn’t.

  Far from it.

  “All right,” Zane said into the microphone. “We have one last late entry before you guys are excused for the day.”

  I tapped my iPad and grinned. I loved playing Sweet Caroline, but what was better was that I saw Connor’s name next to it.

  Good for him.

  Kids started clapping as Connor made his way towards the stage, with Ty following him.

  I gaped as Ty winked at me, slung his guitar over his shoulder, and made his way toward the microphone. “I begged this guy to let me help him with the background vocals.”

  The kids started laughing.

  “Is the house band ready?” Ty turned to me and the rest of the crew. Demetri counted us off while Alec grabbed his electric.

  And then Connor grabbed the microphone like a pro and said, “This is for you, Caroline.”

  I almost died, I was smiling so hard.

  Ty strummed out the first few chords. Connor did a good job of following, and then little man was on the microphone starting off the first few bars. “Where it began, I can’t begin to know.”

  The kid had good vocals, I had to admit that.

  Ty harmonized with him.

  The lyrics affected me, mainly because Ty kept looking at me while he sang. Hands touching hands, touching me, touching you. Oh, sweet God, I was going to combust on stage. He licked his lips and bit down.

  I imagined that bite on my body in front of a ton of kids.

  I was going to hell.

  Connor swung his guitar behind him and grabbed the microphone like a rock star in the making and belted, “Sweet Caroline!”

  We all joined in, laughing.

  The kids jumped to their feet.

  And the girl, the one who must have been Caroline, was shoved forward by her friends. Her eyes were wide, her smile even wider, and she started singing with him, and then all the kids were waving their hands in the air.

  Ty kept playing while Connor sang his heart out. Alec, Demetri, and Zane looked so into it that I wondered if the song would ever end.

  And then Connor turned around, pulled off his shirt, and on his little painted chest were the words Caroline, be mine.

  I laughed until I had tears, and then Ty set down his guitar while Connor sang the last few words and did the exact same thing.

  I was flashed by tight abs, and then in the same writing, I saw, Von Abigail, be mine too?

  I stopped playing.

  Would have dropped my guitar had it not been strapped.

  Kids cheered.

  The song ended, and all of Connor’s friends ran to the stage to pat him on the back. Finally, Caroline hugged him.

  I had tears.

  Maybe for her.

  Perhaps for me.

  Ty started walking toward me—swaggering was more like it—and then he tilted my chin toward him and whispered, “What do you say?”

  “I say I was going to take advantage of you tonight and chase you around until you said yes, so…good timing.”

  I swallowed his laugh with a kiss, throwing my arms around his neck as he deepened it in front of all the kids, only to pull back and give Connor a high-five.

  “See? Told ya it would work. Music transcends.”

  I looked between them, choking on the emotion of how Ty was with Connor, how good of a dad he would be. I nearly lost it again. “Yeah,” I croaked. “It really does transcend.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ty

  Abigail had to stay late for a staff meeting, which meant that I went back to the condo in a cloud of sexual frustration and intense irritation. How long did staff meetings even take?

  I made myself useful and put in some leftovers from the night before, then went and grabbed her favorite wine and uncorked it.

  It still smelled horrible to me, as most alcohol did, but if she wanted it, I was more than happy to provide it.

  It had been over an hour, and all I wanted was to tell her that I wanted her. I wanted her more than anything.

  It wasn’t that it had taken me these last six weeks to realize that.

  I’d realized it ten years ago.

  Time had never been the issue.

  Our maturity was.

  The baggage we carried around just got in the way, and I hated that we both made enough mistakes to be guilty of keeping our love away from one another.

  I opened the balcony door and went outside to watch the waves. Maybe it wasn’t Seaside that I hated, perhaps it was just the rain.

  Because in that moment, hearing the crashing of the waves, I felt my body relax in an unreal way.

  And then hands wrapped around my middle.

  I stiffened and turned. “Meeting done?”

  She didn’t answer me, just stood up on her tiptoes and pulled me down for a kiss. I wasn’t arguing. I kissed her back so hard my mouth would likely be bruised from the pressure. I didn’t care. I just needed her taste.

  She moaned against my tongue, and then literally kicked out a chair, hopped up onto it wi
thout taking her mouth off mine, and jumped into my arms. Her legs wound around my waist.

  I laughed against her mouth. “Cool trick, got any more?”

  “Guess you’ll find out.” She rolled her hips against me.

  I blacked out. Straight-up forgot my own name and then made quick work of pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor.

  She was wearing a black bralette-looking thing that was all delicate lace. I should probably be a gentleman.

  But… Six. Weeks.

  I tugged it over her head and tossed it over the balcony, then slammed her back against the wall of the condo, dipping my tongue into her mouth again, tasting her, drinking her in.

  She arched and then sank down on my leg, squirming against it.

  “Feel good?” I chuckled.

  “I’ve needed you for ten years.” She pulled back, her eyes glassy. “I’ve needed you every single day…and will for the rest of my life.”

  I swallowed the ball of emotion in my throat. “Promise me it’s forever.”

  “It always was,” she said on a sob as tears streamed down her face.

  “Yeah.” I kissed her, peppered her face with more kisses, then said, “It always was.”

  “Hey, guys…” Drew’s voice sounded. “Not to be a total dick, but I’m feeling triggered….”

  “Forgot to tell you. He moved to the condo next door yesterday.” I laughed. “Needed some space.”

  “Space!” he shouted. “Without sexually frustrated musicians!”

  “Sorry!” Abigail called.

  His eyes rounded as she covered her breasts. I may have preened. Was definitely tempted to hit my chest and be like, “What? You like what you see? ALL MINE, BRO! MINE!”

  I didn’t say that.

  But I thought it very aggressively and flipped him off behind her back as I moved us into the house and shut the door.

  “So he saw me half-naked,” Abigail said on a laugh.

  “It probably confused him since it’s been so long…” I joked, pulling the curtains tight across the sliding glass door just in case.

  When I turned around, all I saw was skin.

  Lots and lots of skin.

  A few tattoos.

  Woman.

  My mouth went dry. “So you got out of all your clothes fast.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I wanted to save time.”

  “That’s very responsible of you.” I took a step toward her and peeled my shirt off my body. Her cheeks flushed bright red. I loved that I still did that to her. I moved to my jeans and then stopped. “Did you want me to go slower?”

  “Yes, please, and maybe hum so I have a little bit of dirty music playing while you strip for me?”

  “Humming isn’t dirty.”

  She shrugged. “I guess that depends on what you’re doing while you hum.”

  I tripped on my next step, then jerkily pulled down my jeans and tossed them away, rushing toward her and picking her up in my arms. Our kiss was still chaotic, it was still angry, but the anger wasn’t directed at each other. It was directed at the fact that it had been too long, and we were the only ones standing in the way, using our hurt as a shield, and our hearts as justification.

  “I love you,” I said against her lips.

  Tears streamed down her face. “And I love you, too.”

  “Good answer, you can touch my abs now if you want. I know you’ve been looking,” I teased.

  She smacked me in all the abs and then kissed my chest. “You should probably make sweet love to me now before I change my mind.”

  “I like to savor things…” I said honestly. “So, let me savor holding you for a few minutes before I get you all sweaty and mean.”

  “Mean?”

  I chuckled. “You get mean during sex.”

  “I DO NOT!” she yelled.

  I winced. “Right, okay. Of course, you’re correct, I’m wrong.”

  She smacked me. “I just know what I want when I want it.”

  “A woman who knows her mind…” I leaned down and kissed her head. “Hot.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of being sarcastic with you naked in my arms.”

  She narrowed her eyes then grinned, running her nails down my chest. “You know this means you’re stuck with me, right? The loving, the fighting—”

  “The cooking, the making up,” I finished with a kiss to her neck. “I think I can handle it.” I slapped her ass and then picked her up into my arms and walked her into the closest bedroom.

  The master.

  I tossed her onto the bed and looked my fill, from her hips down her legs, to the tattoos that swirled around her ankle.

  “It’s love, but it’s also part obsession because…damn.” I shook my head. “You’re like the whole pan.”

  “Huh?” She laughed. “What?”

  “I’m getting there.” I crawled over her and could feel the heat of her body, saw the way she bit her swollen bottom lip and waited. Her eyes darted from my mouth to my eyes and then back again. “You’re the whole pan of Rice Krispies.”

  “Ohhh, am I?”

  “Yeah.” I pressed a kiss to her mouth and whispered, “And you know I don’t like sharing…”

  She wiggled beneath me. “Then eat your fill…”

  “I’ve been waiting ten years for you to say that.” I dug my fingers into her thighs and pulled back. “Sex, and then…” I lowered my head and pressed it against her stomach, away from her face. “You and I are going to play.”

  “What are you—?“

  “Could you not?” I hushed her. “I’m having a moment here, all right?”

  “With what?”

  “Ah, she wants a demonstration.” I moved my fingers down her stomach and teased her the way only a good guitarist should. I mean really. Musician…duh.

  She nearly came apart after a few chords. Ha, see what I did there?

  “Ty!” She bunched the sheets in her hands. “I really don’t think I’ll last if you keep doing that.”

  “This?”

  She cursed.

  “Or this?” Damn, she was so hot, so ready for me.

  “Damn it, Ty!” She squeezed my hands with her thighs. “I need you.”

  “We’ll talk later,” I whispered, earning a smack on the back of the head as I returned to her mouth, to her neck, to her perfect breasts.

  “This.” She sighed happily, and then I was getting forcefully turned and pushed onto my back.

  I liked it.

  I liked her on top.

  I liked watching.

  Liked seeing the different emotions that flickered across her face as she touched my skin, as she brazenly grabbed hold of me and put me in my place—quite literally.

  “No take-backs, Abs,” I whispered.

  Her eyes never left mine as she sank onto me. I swore I saw Heaven when she started to move and said, “No take-backs.”

  This was different than before. Different than any other time. It felt like a promise between two broken hearts as they once again merged together and confessed.

  Her head fell back as I ran my hands around her ass and pulled her tighter against me, pumping harder while we got lost in the moment of us.

  She shattered in my arms then, that beautiful face making me breathless. And when I followed, when I finally caught my breath, I realized that things were exactly as they should be.

  Messy.

  Perfect.

  Us.

  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Abigail

  We stayed in bed until it was time to get up in the morning. Both of us still had to teach, but I wanted to call in sick so badly.

  Ty wasn’t any help. Every time I tried to leave the bed, he pulled me back and made me wonder if he was taking some sort of supplement or just making up for lost time. I mean, really, who had sex that much in an eight-hour period?

  He did.

 
; We did, apparently.

  I had such a big smile on my face that I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide it, and since Ty didn’t have a student until around noon, he decided to come with me to camp.

  “Remember,” I said once we got out of the Jeep. “You can’t just ask for sexual favors in front of the kids.”

  He scowled. “I’m not an animal.”

  I gave him a pointed look just as a few middle-schoolers ran past us laughing.

  “Hey, flash me a little boob, just the bottom part,” he said in a low whisper.

  “Oh, God.” I shoved him. “You need therapy.”

  “Sex is my therapy.” His answer. I took a deep breath and tried not to be charmed by his wicked smile and the way he used his hands.

  Dear Lord, that man’s hands.

  Both of them.

  I shivered.

  He leaned in. “Cold?”

  “Shut up,” I grumbled.

  “Bet I could warm you up.”

  “If you say one more sexual—”

  “I meant with my sweatshirt. Tsk, tsk, get your head out of the gutter. Geez, I’m not an animal for your pleasure and your pleasure alone!”

  I sighed. “You done yet?”

  “Meh, I got most of it off my chest.”

  “Good, because we’re walking toward children who look up to you. The last thing we need is for one of them to go home and be like, ‘Hey, Mom, what’s blowjob mean?’”

  Literally, at that exact second, a kid walked by us, one of my students. He was fourteen.

  I would never live this down.

  He gave me an embarrassed look and scurried off.

  I let out a low growl just as Zane made his way over. “You guys make up?”

  I hadn’t even noticed Drew until he answered, “All night. My guess, her mouth is swollen, and I saw her boobs.”

  “Fixate on it some more, why don’t you?” Ty snapped.

  Drew held out his hands as if he were taking a picture and then shook his head. “Sorry, it’s glued in there. If she wasn’t one of my best friends, I could give you a run for your money.”

  “Doubtful.” Ty snorted. “I have these.”

  “Hands? He has hands?” Zane asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

  “Put those away!” I hissed.

  Zane frowned. “We all have those. They aren’t naked. What? He needs gloves?”