Page 3 of Shark’s Pride

I was grateful she let me sit for a second, reorganizing my thoughts—and getting used to my humility. At last I muttered, “It’s about—” But I paused, not really knowing what to call Abbigail. She was more than a friend, but calling her my girlfriend seemed ridiculous too.

Why is this so difficult?

“Is it the caterer?” Pia cut in. “What is her name again? Abbigail something? Gibbons?”

“Gibson. Yes.” Thank God for sisters with quick brains as well as razor-sharp instincts. “Abbigail Gibson. It—this—regards her.”

“Ahhh, I knew it.”

“Stop.”

“I just had a feeling, that’s all.”

“I said stop. I’m serious, Pia. I need to talk to someone about this, and you’re literally the only person I can think of. The only person I have.”

“Oh, gee. You really know how to make a girl feel special. Are you laying it on this smooth with Ms. Gibson too? Lucky girl.”

“You know what I mean.” I paused a beat. “You do, right?” The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings.

“Okay, tell me what’s going on. What has you so tied up in knots? I can probably count on one hand the times I’ve heard you sound like this—and never over a woman. She must be special.”

During the assertion, her voice had gentled, inflating my lungs with a calming breath.

But Christ, where do I even begin?

“I fucked her before I left on this trip.”

Guess that was as good a place as any—though Pia’s spurt might have been a protest otherwise. “Okay, Bas. You ever heard of TMI?”

“There’s an actual reason I’m telling you that—if you’d just let me finish.” I waved my hand through the air as if she could see my gesticulations. “Maybe this was a mistake, talking to you about this.”

“No, keep going. I’ll be quiet until you say you’re through.” There was a prolonged silence before she finally coaxed, “Bas, I promise. Continue with the story.”

I exhaled long and loud before proceeding. “Well, Abbigail and I have been dancing around our obvious attraction to each other for a while. It’s been building and building.”

“Says the man named the Lothario of LA four years running?”

I ignored that. “It just happened, okay? A little bit each day, when she would come into my office with lunch. And then there was that day I saw her at Vela’s game— Well, shit, you were there…” I trailed off without thinking about it, lost in a few seconds of memory about my sister’s censuring gaze while Abbi and I eye-fucked each other across the soccer field.

“So what happened?” Pia prompted.

“I finally made a move,” I filled in. “That day at the game, as a matter of fact.” And yes, deliberately omitted the details about damn near having to blackmail Abbi into our first date. That was the real TMI here.

“Okaaayy…” she said in a way that urged me to continue.

“Then she shocked the living hell out of me by telling me she was a virgin.”

Pia’s gasp could’ve been heard across the ocean without the phone’s aid. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. That slipped out. But dude, that’s huge.”

“That’s what she said too.”

I chuckled under my breath. She gasped again.

“Oh my God. You did not just go there with me.”

“You lobbed it over the plate, Dub. All I had to do was swing.”

Smack. That was probably her palm against her forehead, adding volume to my chuckle. “Continue with the actual facts of the story, please,” she ordered.