Abbott stares at me for a long time. So long I almost speak again because it’s getting too tense and awkward. But then he says, “You cut your hair.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Why are you here, with Bentley? Instead of meeting me like we planned.”
“Bentley is my lawyer,” Abbott explains.
“As of twenty minutes ago,” Bentley adds, and I think he thinks that information is helpful but Abbott frowns. And I do the math. He was supposed to meet me at my parents’ four and a half hours ago. So Bentley isn’t the reason he didn’t show up.
“Why do you need a lawyer? What happened?” I ask. “Did Ronan sue like he threatened?”
“Is Ronan something I need to take note of?” Bentley asks Abbott.
“No. Not related. And he’s a coward and all talk,” Abbott tells him. “But follow up with Aspen on the details. She’s a better judge of how much of a problem he might be in this situation.”
“Abbott, what the fuck is going on?”
Bentley and Abbott exchange glances again and without a word, Bentley starts packing up the paperwork and placing it in his leather satchel. He closes one of the laptops and puts it in there too. “I’ll be calling first thing in the morning. You’ll have to come by the office.”
Abbott nods and stands up and they hug.
Hug?
Then Bentley nods at me again and then heads out the back door. As soon as it shuts, Abbott sighs. “Why do you need a lawyer?”
“My parents served Aspen.”
“Served her what?” I blurt out before my brain can truly process the words. I had tinkered with the idea of being pre-law. I know what served means. It hits me like a tidal wave. “They want Andie?”
“Shared custody or visitation at the very least,” Abbott admits.
“You were dealing with this when you were supposed to be with me, talking to my parents?” I state the obvious. I walk over to him and pull him into my chest. I hug him, my arms circling his broad shoulders. He wraps his arms around my waist. It’s a position we’ve been in before, but right now it feels… off.
“Yes. Sort of,” Abbott pulls back and his arms are gone from my waist before I can figure out why the feeling wasn’t good. He runs a hand through his hair and then scrubs his face with his palm where his now-absent beard should be. “Aspen called, and I immediately went into big brother mode and called my agent and a lawyer and then went to see her. She’s at Javi’s because the parentals from hell haven’t figured out they’re a thing and she’s worried they’ll show up here again.”
I nod, waiting for the rest of the story. It feels like there’s a shoe waiting to drop. Or an anvil. On my heart. Abbott moves away, walking towards the fridge and then stopping abruptly and walking back. “I was just heading over to get a beer. Fucking bad habits and muscle memory.”
He shakes his head, turns back to the fridge, and pulls out one of Aspen’s Cokes. They’re the glass bottle kind with the real sugar. He offers me one but I shake my head so he puts it back, kicks the fridge door closed, and then walks over to the drawer by the sink to dig out the bottle opener. “I need more details, Abbott. I’m trying not to be pissed you skipped out without a word. You could have texted me or called.”
He finds the bottle opener and opens his Coke. His eyes raise to mine. There’s the kitchen island between us now. Just a few feet of marble and wood. So why does it feel like more? “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“I would have preferred it over getting ghosted.”
“I didn’t ghost you,” Abbott argues. His eyes won’t find mine. He’s looking at the untouched Coke in his hands. He’s looking at the counter. His feet. The fridge. Not me though. Never me. My anger soars and I get that trapped animal panic in my gut.
“Do you always hug your lawyers?”
“No. But Bentley and I…” Abbott sighs. “We had a thing. A couple of times. But it was years ago. I asked my agent for a lawyer rec, someone in family law, and he didn’t know anyone. But then I remembered I did. I hadn’t talked to him in over a year but I was desperate and he was kind enough to help.”
“You dated him?” Yes, my brain sticks on that fact like a mouse sticks to a glue trap. I’m pathetic. This is not the time to be jealous.
“I didn’t say that. I said we had a thing. It was casual. It was always casual, except with you,” Abbott replies and finally takes a sip of the Coke. His face contorts as he swallows, like it’s a particularly strong shot of liquor. I guess sugar will do that to a guy who avoids in like the plague.
“So in the two and a half hours it took your ex bed buddy to get here, you couldn’t swing by and tell me what was going on? Or pop in to talk to my parents like you promised? Or even fucking text?” I spit out. I’m pissed. About everything. Even things I don’t even know about yet. I can feel that shoe dangling over my head. There’s more coming. More bad news. More bullshit. More pain.
“No, I couldn’t see you with your parents because I can’t tell your parents about us anymore, Declan. I didn’t think texting youthatwould be the right move,” Abbott snaps. He places the Coke bottle on the counter next to the sink with a hard thud.
“What? Why not?” I swallow. My throat suddenly feels like I’ve been in the desert for forty days.
“Because it’s too complicated a time for me now,” Abbott replies and sags against the sink behind him. His head hangs and his shoulders drop. “I have to handle this bullshit for Aspen. Bentley says they don’t have a case but if we go to court it’ll take a while. I need to end this without a trial or courts. And the season is about to start so I have to juggle that with this. If this goes to trial, the press is a huge problem for me. And for Aspen, who is trying to start a new career. Going public with my sexuality in the middle of a family lawsuit, after the debacle at the charity game… it would mean the end of my time in the pros. That’s almost a guarantee and I can’t risk it. Not right now.”
