Page 51 of Abyss

In her oversized men’s blazer, with her lemon-printed umbrella in hand, she’s hard to miss. She crosses the street in front of me, platter in tow.

Where the hell is she going? Why is she walking in the opposite direction of our apartment? Is she . . . is she fucking leaving again?

As soon as the signal changes, I turn my truck in the same direction, slowing to a crawl next to her. She does a double take when she sees me roll down my window, throwing her nose up in the air and increasing her speed the best she can on her still-injured leg.

My teeth grit as I watch her walk. I hate that she wouldn’tlisten to me and let me look at it. What if she’s more hurt than she’s letting me believe? “Where are you going?”

I’m sure to anyone watching, I sound like a creeper, trying to catcall a random girl from my window.

She doesn’t respond, keeping her shoulders back and her head forward, moving her umbrella between us to try to block me out.

“Kavi, where the fuck are you going? Our apartment is the other way.”

She pulls her umbrella back, glaring at me. “It’s notourapartment; it’s yours. And it’s none of your business where I’m going.”

“The day you agreed to live with me, it became your apartment, too,” I yell back. “And yes, it is my business to know where you’re going. Why the hell wouldn’t you call Aaron or just ride with me?”

She doesn’t answer my question, looking down at the platter in her hand. “Is this about your dish? I’m not stealing it. You can have it back.”

Jesus. The woman is certifiable.

“Kavi, get in the truck.”

“And be in an enclosed space with you so you can be an asshole up-close-and-personal again? No, thanks.”

I run a frustrated hand down my face, watching her walk with gusto. Goddamn, the woman is the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.

Giving up, I grab the nearest parking spot on the street a block away from her and amble out of my car. She likely thinks I’ve driven off.

Sounds of tires over the wet streets and the scent of fresh sourdough bread hit my senses as I cover the distance between us, jaunting toward her.

Kavi comes to a stop, eyes wide, when she sees me approaching. “Go home, Hudson!”

A few drops of rain land gently on my face so I bend, getting under her umbrella with her. I take it from her, my hand wrapping around hers before she lets go, so I can lift it to accommodate my height. “It’s precisely what I’m trying to do, but you’re not letting me.”

She glares up at me, the stupid platter between us. Even on this dimly lit sidewalk, her honey-colored eyes sparkle like sunshine. “What do you want?”

God, if only that was a simple question. If only I could tell her exactly what I wanted. I haven’t quite admitted it to myself, but I’m getting there.

“Your forgiveness, for one.”

She turns her head, frustration wrinkling her features. Even so, she’s beautiful.

“We keep coming back to the same place. You say something mean and then ask for forgiveness.”

“I’ll probably do it again, too.” When she huffs, I continue, “But I can tell you one thing. I’ve never asked for forgiveness this many times in less than two weeks.”

She squints at me. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

My lips twitch. “Yes.”

“Yeah, nice try, Mr. Sunshine. I’m over your mood swings.”

She tries to grab her umbrella from my hand, but I’m faster, pulling it back before she can take it from me. “I fucked up, Kav. I saw my brother after almost two years, and then I heard you laughing, and—”

“You heard melaughing?” she repeats, enunciating the word and making me feel even more idiotic than I already do at my admission.

“Yes, I heard you laughing and . . .” I huff, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know, I just thought . . . I thought—”

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