It’s hot, dark, dusty, and every step crunches—old picks, bottle caps, maybe bones. Cables snake across the floor, waitin’ to trip her. And there’s a couch that’s seen more action than the moon.
She reaches up and tugs the pull-chain. The bulb flickers to life—buzzin’, swingin’, spillin’ yellow all over the mess.
Andrew crashes into the couch. He ain’t got bones no more, long legs stretched out, head tossed back, sweat glintin’ down his hairline. “Got fifteen minutes. Still half a set to go,” he mutters. “This is the part where I fake a burst of energy.”
At first she stands there, holdin' her breath, starin’ at him like a deer with a crush.
Andrew Harding. Right there.
And she’s alone with him.
She don’t got a clue what she’s doin’.
But she knows if she don’t move now, nothin’ll happen at all.
She swings a leg over, straddlin' him real smooth, ‘til panic smacks her straight in the brain:Lord have mercy, what if I just cracked his damn femur in half?
His hands are flyin’ up, startled, laughter shootin’ outta him.
That surprised laugh that slips out before you think.
“Damn,” he says, a smile hangin’ around after the laughter dies. “Outta all the options to park, you went straight for the guy half-dead, huh?” His brow lifts.
She grabs hold of his shoulders, fingers shakin’ bad. “Took every bit’a guts I got just to talk to you,” she says. “Don’t care what kinda shape you’re in.”
Ain’t no shame in admitting it any longer.
Not when you’ve imagined it ‘til you’re blue in the heart.
His body heat soaks through her hands, her thighs, her whole damn chest. She leans back, smilin’ through the panic. But he takes her wrist, pulls her arm ‘round his neck, and sinks into the couch.
She don’t think twice and leans in, kissin’ his neck.
Salt. Sweat. Skin tastin’ like heat.
“Let me wake you up,” she breathes, lips barely leavin’ his throat. “I’ll give you that burst of energy you’re lookin’ for.”
Who is she and how does she know to talk like this?
He flinches, tensing, then exhales hard, a door shuttin’.
Abigail freezes, stomach droppin’, brain spinnin’.
Oh Lord. That’s it. Messed it all up.
Came on too strong, too much, too desperate.
He’s gonna push her off. He’s gonna tell her to back off.
“Hey…” His voice cuts through her panic before it takes root. “You don’t gotta give me nothin’.” His hands travel up her thighs, his grin hittin' her ear. “You got me real fuckin’ awake now.”
Her whole body goesholy-shitstill.
She wants to say somethin’—thank youordon’t let this be a dream—but all she can do is breathe. She wonders if that’s how it works. If you throw yourself at a guy, he’ll catch you. He don't gotta like you, or even know your name. Just gotta make sure nobody’s watchin’.
A pussy’s just a pussy if the lights are off.
She lets out a shaky laugh, cheeks burnin’.
