Would Abby lie about being pregnant?
No. She can be a menace, but that’s not something she would do. There’s no reason for it. In fact, there is a lot of hesitationon her part. As though she doesn’t like the idea of accepting anything from me.
When we finish up and the kitchen is clean, awkwardness settles over us. I clear my throat and then jut my thumb toward the door. “I should go.”
“Can you stay for a bit?” She shudders as if it physically pains her to ask me. “Please? I just…I don’t want to be alone right now. We can watch a movie or something.”
I told Angela I’d come by to see her, but that can wait for a little while.
“Sure,” I grunt.
We settle on the couch. I sit on one end and she lays across it, putting her feet on my lap. Since I fixed up her blisters the other day, I figure this is a good opportunity to check on them. She watches me intently as I untie her laces and pull off her shoes. Her socks that say, “I love cats,” get discarded next. I notice she’s painted her toenails since the last time. They’re black and match her fingernails.
“Blisters healed up,” I say as I carefully inspect each foot.
“Guess I can go to work after all.”
“Where?”
“The bar near that diner,” she says with a shrug. “The guy keeps calling. I told him I didn’t have a ride. Today he said he’d come pick me up, but he’s kind of a creep so I don’t know if I feel comfortable with him knowing where I live.” Then she curses. “Ouch.”
I realize I’ve started absently massaging her foot and with vigor. “Sorry.” I gently push her feet out of my lap because this all feels too intimate. “Tell that guy you’re not working there. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
She fishes her phone out of her pocket and her fingers fly over the screen as she texts. For dramatic effect, she reads italoud as she types. “Sorry, dude. My baby daddy says I can’t work. Thanks anyway.”
“Glad we got that sorted,” I grumble. “Find us something to watch, woman.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she hisses back, but snatches the remote. “Funny or scary?”
“I need to laugh,” I tell her honestly. “I’m a little stressed lately.”
“Same.” She pushes her feet back into my lap. “Make yourself useful.”
I wake with a pain in my neck and my phone buzzing. It’s dark outside. What the fuck? I’m slumped over on the couch on my side, arm slung over the tiny woman beside me.
When I shift, she makes a moaning sound that has my cock coming alive.
“Abby,” I grumble. “We fell asleep.”
“Stop moving,” she complains. “You’re going to make me puke.”
I’m going to puke because there’s no doubt in my mind Angela has been blasting my phone wondering where I’m at. When I pull out my phone, I’m met with several missed calls and texts.
Angela: I thought you were coming over.
Angela: Are you okay?
Angela: Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?
Angela: I’m starting to worry that you’ve been in an accident. Call me back please.
Angela: If you’re alive and still want to be with me, we should consider sharing our location because this is stressful, Rhett.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I have to call her,” I rasp out to Abby. “Just…don’t say anything.”
I dial Angela and she answers on the first ring.
