Hey, let’s do COD tonight. At my place around 8, my sister said she’ll make tacos.
Liam
Your sister will be there? I’m in.
Chase
She lives here you fucking idiot, and if you go anywhere near her, we’ll be using our second string quarterback for the rest of the season.
Nate
Fuck Liam, can you keep it under control for once?
Liam
I need my hands for a lot of things, so I guess I’ll have to try, won’t I?
Under normal circumstances, Liam’s comment wouldn’t get under my skin. With recent events though? I want to break both his hands.
Yeah sounds good.
As I walk into Chase’s apartment, I see Abby’s in the kitchen mashing what looks like guacamole and has a bunch of taco fixings all set up on the counter. She gives me a big smile when she sees me and I can’t help the one that beams on my face in return. It’s a smile that reaches all the way up to her gorgeous green eyes. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that says “nacho business” and I’m sure she has those little bike shorts underneath but you can barely see them. Her hair is flowing down her back as her bare feet shuffle around to get everything out on the table.
“Cute shirt.” I pull at the hem as I walk by to grab myself a drink from the refrigerator.
“You said you weren’t much of a cook, but here you are with a whole taco bar.”
She keeps her distance with the guys playing the game in the next room, but holds out a spoonful of guacamole for me to try.
“I can make like five things. Guacamole is one. The rest of this…” She waves her hand over the counter. “Is basically just browning some beef and opening containers.”
“Where’s my chip? You don’t expect me to eat this by the spoonful, do you?” I’m looking over her shoulder to find a tortilla chip or something to eat with this hunk of avocado she just laid in front of my face.
Abby throws a hand on her hip. “It’s just a taste, I’m not asking you to eat the bowl.” I grab the tortilla chip bag on the counter and pull it open.
“How can you just shove a whole tablespoon of that in your mouth?” Scooping the guacamole off the spoon with a chip, I take a bite.
Damn, it’s pretty fucking good. I don’t even like avocados that much, but whatever she’s got mixed in here is something I’d eat. My head nods in approval as I’m chewing and I walk by her to toss the spoon in the sink.
She leans back towards me once I’m close and I hear her mutter. “I’m good at shoving lots of things in my mouth, Anderson.” Her words stop me dead in my tracks. She can’t be saying shit like that when we’re around everyone, not yet anyway, not when I can’t just throw her over my shoulder and bring her to the bedroom.
“Abby,” I say sternly.
She shrugs her shoulders and bounces around the kitchen as she finishes getting everything out. I turn on my heel to make my way to the living room where Chase, Liam and Nate are, but not before sneaking one more glance at Abby.
After the last couple of weeks with Ford, I’ve realized a lot of things. Many things I probably already knew, but was too scared to admit. Being with Ford feels safe, it feels secure, there is just this overwhelming sense of protection, like he would never ever hurt me. It’s amazing how you can go from one destructive and toxic relationship to the next one feeling the complete opposite. He supports me in ways I didn’t even know I needed or wanted, honestly. And even though this is still a new feeling for me, I know it’s right.
When Chase mentioned that he wanted to have a guys’ night, it was clear Ford would be coming over, so offering to help make some food just flew out of my mouth. Like some kind of sixth sense, I felt Ford’s presence the second he walked into the kitchen. His denim clad thighs waltzed in like he owned the space and I had to remind myself not to lunge into his arms at the sight of him. He looks so good tonight, which isn’t different than any other night, but lately, I’ve been paying even closer attention. He’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt and his face looks freshly shaved. His backwards baseball hat, which I’m convinced he wears just because he knows what it does to me, sat perfectly placed on his head as he crossed his arms over his chest and watched me move around the kitchen.
“Everything’s pretty much done,” I say walking into the living room where the guys are sitting. Ford looks in my direction immediately, but I don’t keep my stare on him for long before I’m heading back to the kitchen to get myself a plate. There are enough tacos loaded on my plate to feed a small village. As I’m sitting down to eat, my phone dings.
Ford
I need you to put some pants on.
Why’s that?
Ford
