Author: Teresa Mummert

“After college are you moving back to Mississippi?”

“I have no idea where I’ll be,” I said, because it was the truth. “Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow, let alone a few years from now?”

There was a bite left in the bowl, and he leaned back in his seat, letting me have it. Abel grabbed the bowl and took it to the sink to wash it out.

“So you and Trish are going out tonight?” I asked, and his hands were still for a moment before he rinsed out the bowl and placed it on a dishtowel on the counter.

“That’s the plan. You think you’ll need to be rescued again?”

“I’m staying in tonight. I can only take so much humiliation.” I pushed myself to my feet and headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Abel leaned against the doorframe as he watched me. I blinked as my reflection appeared to fade and blur before me. I rubbed the heel of my hand over my eye as I groaned.

“I’m never drinking again,” I moaned, as I stuck my toothbrush in my mouth.

“You have an extra one of those?”

I pointed to the door below the sink and stepped out of the way as he pulled it open and grabbed an unopened toothbrush.

He didn’t wait for me to finish as he began to brush his teeth, his large frame taking up all the room in front of the mirror. Toothpaste foamed over my lips, and I used my hand to keep it from dripping as I shoved against him with my hip. He grinned as he held his stance firmly, and I pushed all my weight into his side. He sighed dramatically and stepped out of my way. I bent over and spat, cupping water and using it to rinse my mouth. As I stood up and looked in the mirror, Abel was directly behind me, an entire head and shoulders taller than I was. He grinned, the toothbrush protruding from his mouth as he winked. I watched as my cheeks turned six shades of pink and wondered whether that was what I looked like every time he did something like that.

He tapped my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts, and I stepped to the side so he could finish as I wiped my lips on a hand towel before heading into the living room. I plopped down on the end of the couch and clicked on the television with the remote. Abel came out of the bathroom and sat on the cushion beside me, thigh pressed to thigh, arm against arm.

“You know there’s another cushion.” I clicked through the channels.

“I like this one.”

“Child.”

“Play nice, Kettle.”

I rolled my eyes and fought against the tug of my lips to smile. I clicked; Abel stretched. I clicked, and he slid farther down in his seat. I clicked, and he snatched the remote from my fingers and scrolled through the channels.

“I can’t believe I skipped class to put up with this.”

“Come on. You know this is much more fun.”

Our eyes met, and I looked back at the television with an indifferent shrug. He settled on a movie called Twelve about a drug dealer.

“How appropriate,” I snorted, and he gave me a sideways glance.

“I’ll have you know this is a very deep movie about relationships and loss. Besides, you can’t judge me after that smut you made me watch the other day.”

“Wild Thingsisn’t smut. It’s a deep movie about relationships and loss.” We both laughed, and Abel’s hand fell on the bare skin of my thigh. My giggle died in my throat; I hated and loved having him so close.

“Do you like Trish?” I stared ahead at the movie as I bit my lower lip with my teeth.

“She’s nice.”

“Ha!”

“Come on,” he said. “She isn’t that bad. She’s just looking for fun, nothing serious.”

I knew he was right, but the thought of the two of them together didn’t fit. It was like forcing two puzzle pieces together that clearly didn’t belong because it was easier than looking for the right match.

“You’re not jealous, are you, Lie?”

I glanced at Abel as I felt my cheeks burn under his gaze, and my heart hammered against the inside of my chest.

“You’ll get to see Brock soon, and you’ll get to go out and do all these things with him too.”

I relaxed back in my seat and nodded. I was jealous, but for all of the wrong reasons, and my stomach twisted into knots. Abel’s fingers patted my leg, and then they were gone. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them as I tried to focus on the movie.

After about a half hour of not focusing on the film, I heard my phone ring from my bedroom. I hopped up, dashed to my room, and grabbed it from my dresser, cringing when I saw it was Marie.

“Hello?” I answered, as I stood in the hallway. Abel glanced at me for a second.

“You running again, Delilah?”

“Of course not.” I tried not to sound defensive.

“I went out of my way to see you yesterday.”

“I know you did. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Abel got up from the couch and walked by me into the kitchen. I watched as he pulled open the fridge and bent over. He had a cute butt.

“Did you hear me, Delilah?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

Abel looked over his shoulder and smirked before pulling out two sodas and holding them up. I nodded and looked away as I tried to focus on Marie.

“I won’t be able to see you on Friday,” she said. “My sister is getting married, and she wants me to help her pick out a dress.”

“It’s fine. It’s whatever. I have plans Friday anyway. I was gonna tell you.”

Abel cocked his head to the side as he popped open his soda and took a sip as he slowly walked toward me.

“I don’t want to put you out,” Marie said.

“It’s fine. Really.” I glanced away from Abel’s questioning gaze.

Abel leaned in toward my free ear, his lips brushing over it and his breath tickling me as he whispered, “What are we doing Friday?”

I put my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet and pushed back against his chest.

“Is that him?” he asked.

My eyes widened in warning. He took another drink as I smiled.

“You have company?” Marie asked. “Did I call at a bad time?”

“No. Just my roommate’s boyfriend.” I glared at him, and he headed into the living room and sat down on the center cushion then turned up the volume on the television. “I’ll call you if I need you. I’m fine. I swear.”

“All right. You have my number.” She hung up, and I groaned. Marie was probably the most unprofessional therapist on the planet, but I liked that about her. She didn’t have kids of her own, and she liked to mother me, which was kind of nice, even though it could be annoying as hell. I tossed my phone onto my bed then went to the living room and sat back down on the couch in the same spot I’d occupied before. Abel adjusted himself so that we were once again pressed side to side.

“He has trust issues, huh?”

“Huh?”

“I get it. If there was a guy like me walking around my girl’s house, I probably would lose my mind too.”

It sunk in that he thought I’d been talking to Brock, and I didn’t correct him. What was I supposed to say? That my overbearing therapist likes to call me randomly and tell me about her life?

“And what kind of guy is that?”

Abel ignored me as he picked up the remote and flipped through the movie channels. He stopped on a scary movie that was showing a man getting stabbed in the shoulder as blood sprayed across the screen. I cringed and curled closer into his side.

“You scared?” He smirked as his arm went over my shoulders.

“I’m not a fan of violence.” I tried to focus on the television and not the places where our bodies touched; the closeness sent waves of heat through his shirt, which I still wore.

“Aw…I won’t let them come through the screen and get you,” he replied sarcastically, and I smacked him lightly on the chest as I settled into his side. The killer wiped the blood from his blade on his shirt and set off toward a home in the woods that vaguely reminded me of Abel’s work in progress. He was met by three guys in varsity jackets who challenged him to a fight in their inebriated state. I turned my head, hiding my face against Abel’s neck, my knees turned to the side on his lap.

“What’s happening?” I asked, as I breathed in the scent of his Polo Sport.

“Jock number one took a knife to the jugular,” he said with a laugh, as his free hand fell on my bare knee on his lap. “Number two is putting up a fight, but he’s doing it all wrong. He’s…aw…come on.”

“What happened?”

“I think he just lost his football scholarship. Number three swung and missed. He’s trying to run. Ohhh!” He yelled, causing me to jump. “He didn’t make it.” His thumb tapped against my skin, and my heart beat in time with his absent‐minded touch.

“Can I look?” I started to turn my head, but Abel’s fingers came up and turned my cheek back into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t think you want to see this part.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Abel cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat as his hand went back to my leg. “He’s gonna kill a couple on the couch.”

“What’s happening?” I asked, and I felt his body shiver slightly as my breath blew over his neck.

“They’re making out.” His voice was a quiet whisper as I felt his pulse increase under my fingertips. “He’s…” He cleared his throat. “Sliding his hand up her thigh.” His thumb glided lightly back and forth over the inside of my knee. “The killer is watching from inside the doorway. Her eyes are closed, and the guy’s slipping his hand under her skirt.” His face moved a fraction of an inch until our cheeks were pressed against each other’s and his hot breath blew over my ear. I heard the panting and the quiet moans from the movie, and I contemplated turning to watch, but I was frozen against Abel, oddly enjoying his play by play of the scene and not sure seeing it for myself would do anything to make this situation any less intense. “She likes it,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” I whispered back, my voice coming out breathy.

“Yeah.” His fingers gripped my lower thigh more tightly.

“What are they doing now?” I asked, as my hand slid up from his chest to the side of his neck.

“He’s kissing her.” His face pulled back an inch, putting our mouths closer to each other. “She’s moving against his hand.” He swallowed hard, and I stayed pinned against him, motionless, as I listened to the sounds of lovemaking, their moans deafening in the small space. “He’s taking off her panties and sliding them down her legs.”

My eyes closed as I was entranced by his voice, my mouth suddenly dry. I heard the clicking of the remote as Abel turned down the volume just as the female became more vocal in her pleasure. Abel’s hand slid a few inches up my thigh to the edge of the shorts I was wearing. “She’s spreading her legs for him, and he’s sliding between them. Her hands are undoing his jeans.”

My breathing grew ragged, and my fingers gripped his shirt collar. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” His face angled toward mine, and his breath blew over my lips as our foreheads pressed against each other’s. His hand slipped up and down the outside of my thigh, sending tingles vibrating through my skin with each pass. “And now he’s sliding into her.”

“You’re not even looking at the screen,” I said with a laugh, and my eyes opened as I glanced at the television. The movie was rolling the credits, and I pushed against Abel’s chest to back him away from me as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. “You’re such a liar!”

“You were enjoying yourself. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he joked, and smacked his chest.