“I’ll help.”
“Nah. I got this. Go upstairs with Abbott.”
“Fucking hell,” I hiss under my breath, but Logan catches it. He looks over at me, his eyes clear and firm. “I decided what was best for you and implemented the plan. It’s called a taste of your own medicine.”
I blink. His tone isn’t malicious and he winks and gives me a small smile to prove he’s just trying to lighten the mood. I sigh and look back over at Abbott. He’s carrying his bag and moving toward the stairs. I follow, each step feeling like I’m walking a plank. And to heighten that horrible feeling, as we reach the top of the stairs, Jake emerges from a bedroom on the left at the end of the hall. He’s grinning like he won the lottery.
“I took the master of course, which has the most killer walk-in shower I’ve ever seen,” he announces, chest puffed out like he’s proud of himself. “The room across on the right has bunk beds so that’s for you two. Unless you want to share a bed because the other two have queen beds.”
“What?” My chest is suddenly tight.
“You told them we would share a room,” Abbott’s voice is monotone and resigned.
Oh fuck. Yes. I did that. I am a fucking idiot of the grandest scale. Of all the millions of mistakes I’ve made, this suddenly feels like the biggest of all. I’m standing frozen in the hall, drowning in existential dread as Abbott slips past me and disappears into the room Jake pointed at.
And then I do the only thing I can do. I follow Abbott into the bedroom. The room has walls in a regal rich green and a knotty pine ceiling. The bed is one of the bunks that has a double on the bottom and a single up top. Other than that, there’s a tall boy dresser and a thick, white rug shaped like a polar bear skin but it’s synthetic. Abbott has already tossed his bag on the top bunk because he knows I hate top bunks. I once fell out of one at Bible camp in the middle of the night when we were twelve and gave myself a wicked shiner and a sprained wrist.
“Can you shut the door so we can talk a second, please?” Abbott asks softly. He looks so good with his puppy dog stare and that plain heather blue t-shirt pulling against his muscular chest and making the darker flecks in his eyes pop.
“No,” I say despite that pull I always have for him. The incessant need to give him whatever he wants over all else is still there. I make a mental note to ask Sean if there’s a medication that quells that, because if there is, he better write me a lifelong prescription.
“If we can just talk, this weekend might not be so awkward.”
“Talk about what? Nothing has changed,” I reply in a heated whisper as I toss my bag on the bottom bunk. “And even if you’re having second thoughts, it’s too late. The damage is done. I’m not giving you my heart again. I can’t. It’s futile. So, let’s just agree to avoid each other as much and as subtly as possible. Also, I’m sleeping on the couch downstairs.”
I turn and leave the room without waiting to see how he reacts.
* * *
We last five entire hours.Five hours of exploring the house, walking through town, going for a sunset surf. Abbott and I have somehow morphed into Academy Award winning actors, laughing at jokes, adding to the jovial, frivolous conversation. We even manage to stand side-by-side at the grill on the back part of the deck, overseeing the cooking of the chicken and ribs. And we manage to get through the eating of said chicken and ribs sitting side-by-side at a table — knees bumping and hands crossing as we reach for napkins or condiments — and we never give a single clue we’re in the aftermath of breaking each other’s hearts.
I’m about to sigh in relief as I grab a pillow and a blanket and some pajama bottoms I brought with me and turn to leave the bedroom when Abbott walks in. He changed in the bathroom while he was brushing his teeth and is in nothing but his boxer briefs now. He closes the door behind him after he enters and leans on it. “Finn is in the bathroom now. If you leave, he’ll catch you in the hall, sneaking downstairs.”
I frown but stand still. Abbott stays where he is, leaning against the closed door. His hands are behind his back, his head cocked up a little as he looks at me. His eyes roam slowly over my face. I try not to do the same back. Looking at him makes me weak. Makes me want him. Makes me sad. I’ve lost not just the love of my life but my best and oldest friend too. This sucks on so many levels that it will take me years to get through all the shitty feelings.
“I read somewhere that hope is the last thing ever lost,” I say quietly. I don’t know why. I should just shut my stupid mouth and wait for Finn to go to bed so I can crash on the couch. We’re all getting up at five for a sunrise surf. “I just didn’t realize you could lose it repeatedly, over the same person and the same situation. It feels like hope and I are in our own personal Groundhog’s Day.”
“I read once that true love can’t be found where it doesn’t exit, nor can it be denied where it does,” Abbott tells me after a minute of painful silence.
“Where did you read that?”
“A fortune cookie.” He smiles sheepishly. “My rookie year, after a night of way too much tequila. But even with a hangover cloud muddling my brain, my first thought was you.”
“Ironic, considering you’ve always done a stellar job of denying me,” I mutter and move toward the door, taking just a couple steps before I realize he isn’t moving out of my way. So I stop before I get too close. Before I’m within touching distance. If he touches me, I’m fucked.
“I’m dying under the weight of my obligations,” Abbott says. His voice is different than I’ve ever heard it. It’s weak and trembling. He sounds broken. “The coach lost his mind after I punched Ronan. He warned me that if I cause one more ripple in the media, do one more thing that puts a spotlight on my dirty laundry, I’m done. He’ll toss me on waivers and he’s convinced not a single team will pick me up. And I know he’s right. This contract is for five million, but there’s a clause. It drops down to entry level rookie pay if I get dropped to the minors.”
“And you’d rather be rich than be with me?” I might be angrier than a cornered crab right now but I also know he’s not that guy. Abbott doesn’t care about money more than all else.
“Who am I if I can’t help the people I love?” he croaks out, his voice still soft and uneven. “I owe you. I owe Aspen. You guys helped me survive when things were really hard. You always let me tell you anything and you showed me what real love is. Aspy… she walked away from our entire family just to stand by my side.”
“Yeah, we were there for you because we love you not because we want your money.” I hear a door open in the hall and then another one close. Finn must have gone to his room. I could leave but… “You need to give yourself some credit and then maybe you can find the balls you need to be yourself.”
I take a couple more steps towards the door and he moves out of the way but then he says three words that glue my feet to the ground again. “Take me back.”
When I don’t respond he keeps talking. “Take me back. I’ll come out. At the Cup Day. Just like I wanted. And it is what I want, Deck. To just be with you, like a normal couple. Because you deserve that and I want it more than I want anything. And the thought that this… that I’ve lost you. For good. That is eating me alive. Tell me you’ll take me back.”
“Oh God, I wish I could say yes.”
