Page 52 of Love in Pieces

?CHAPTER 19

Abby

The four of us siton the couch racing each other in Mario Kart. I hate to admit it, but Dallas was the smart one when he decided not to drink. He has won every game so far. The only thing separating Dallas and me is the fabric of his shorts. If I wasn’t so buzzed, I think my heart would be racing right now.

He playfully nudges me with his knee as I pass him going around a turn. “Woah! Woah! Woah!” Dallas shouts as he tries to catch back up.

I hold my fingers to my forehead in an “L” position. “Loooooser,” I joke.

“Hey now, I’ve won every game so far. I think this goes the other way.”

By eleven, Logan is passed out on the couch. Rose had a friend pick her up an hour ago. I stopped drinking after what I think was the third shot around eight and chose water instead, the memory of the morning after Meredith’s birthday poking my brain rather loudly. It’s allowed me enough time to sober up so I’m not waking up hungover for Sam’s dreaded return tomorrow. Dallas and I have shifted to the kitchen counter to play a game of war. We sit next to each other on bar stools. At least with this game, I don’t have to think about it very hard. Normally, I’d be ready to get black-out drunk so I have a reason to momentarily forget about life. Tonight, the desire to remember it is far stronger. The thought scares me a little, but I’m doing my best to welcome it.

“So, have you enjoyed your birthday?” Dallas asks, shuffling the deck.

“Very much so. I needed this. Thank you, Dallas. I truly appreciate it. You have no idea.” I rest my head on his shoulder for a brief second before laying down a card. “Ha!” I say, grabbing the two cards on the counter.

“You realize this game requires zero skill, right?” He laughs and lays down another card. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. It’s nice seeing you so happy.”

“It’s nice to feel it. It’s been a while.” I lay another card down and thinking I won, I slap my hand down on it before it connects in my brain that it’s Dallas’s win. His hand lands on mine but neither of us pulls away. I can feel his eyes on me a moment until I slip my hand out from under his.

I laugh a little to play off the stiff tension in the air. “Uh, that’s yours. My bad.”

He lets out a single laugh before picking up his winning cards and laying another down. I glance at him before laying my own card down and his gaze is intently on mine. I lower my eyes to the cards. His win again.

But he doesn’t move to take the cards. I don’t look up from my hand, but I can still feel his eyes on me, his breath growing heavier as it clings to the friction in the air.

He takes a deep breath, and I watch his legs shift beneath him ever so slightly. The cards in his hand lower until they rest on the counter. He shifts that same hand to my knee, spinning the barstool so we face each other. Finally, I let myself look up. His gaze is fierce, the intent clear in his eyes.

Does he know how much power he holds when he looks at me like that?

His jaw clenches as if he’s trying to hold back from saying something. Or doing something. His hands do the same. It takes everything in me to keep my eyes off his body. I can’t help but let my eyes wander. Each muscle, each vein, and each minuscule movement gives my eyes something else to focus on. As I pretend to ignore his stare, his hand makes its way up my thigh. The touch of his hand on me like this makes my skin buzz. He squeezes hard, but not enough to hurt. A strong breath leaves his lungs, as does one from mine. His jaw clenches again and I lick my lips, imagining what his mouth might taste like. That seems to be enough of a “yes” from me for him to make a move.

He leans in slowly, a hand now on each bare thigh, and his nose brushes mine before a light touch of his lips on mine sends fireworks through my body. Our lips press gently together, but he pulls away slowly. I wrap my fingers around his biceps, pulling, begging for more.

In one fell swoop, he picks me up, gripping my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my feet behind his back. Logan stirs on the couch but doesn’t wake. For a moment, neither of us moves. We watch each other’s eyes, dancing in the dim LED lights of the kitchen. And when Logan doesn’t stir again, Dallas carries me to his room, closing the door behind us with a swift kick, our eyes still locked on each other. He raises his brows as if asking for permission.

I nod slightly before I cover his mouth with mine. Our lips touch with a fury unknown to me. The soft skin of his combined with mine is harsh, yet so delicate. It’s a quick rainstorm with a rainbow after, like he’s worried if he doesn’t taste all of me now, he might never taste me again. I’ve never known as gentle a kiss as this that has so much passion behind it. Our lips move as one with each other. His tongue traces the roof of my mouth before he lightly bites my lower lip. I let out a short sharp yelp that makes him smile against my lips.

The tender caress of his hand slips under my shirt and moves up the length of my spine as he slowly lowers me onto his bed. I sit myself up not wanting to break from his lips, a hand entwined in his hair, the other grabbing a fist full of his shirt. He parts from me, letting the cold air hit my lips as he almost rips his shirt off.

I’ve never let myself stare at his chest or tattoos long, not wanting to draw too much attention to my secret desire to devour every inch of him. I kneel on the bed, tracing a finger down his body, and then to each of his tattoos. He shudders with the touch. The nameColeis inked into his skin across his heart in sharp calligraphy. A cascade of geometric shapes crosses the span of his chest down his right shoulder just enough that it peeked out from under his shirt a moment ago.

“Your brother?” I ask, tracing each letter. He nods, watching my hands carefully. I pull at that shoulder; a gentle ask that he turn around. He pivots slowly, touching his chin to his shoulder. A skull decorates the middle of his back with swirls of smoke encasing it. The back of his bicep depicts four triangles. The third one is filled in. “What’s this one?” I ask, touching each triangle. I place soft kisses down the back of his neck. He shivers at the touch.

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