Page 30 of Love in Pieces

“Why?” she asks, but I don’t understand the question.

“Why what?” I ask softly.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

I sigh, taking in the question. I turn to face her, hoping she will do the same. “Hey, look at me.” I wait for her to turn toward me. After a second of hesitation, she spins on her chair, our knees almost touching. She looks up. “You deserve kindness. You deserve happiness. You deserve love, but in the right way. This ‘love’ Sam has been giving you? That’s not love. That’s torture. No one deserves that. And, to be honest, I have no reason not to be nice to you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

I don’t know how, in such a short amount of time, I have developed such a need to protect this woman. She piques my curiosity in a way I’ve never experienced.

Abby looks down, picking at her fingers. “Okay,” is all she says.

“Do you trust me? Do you believe me?” I ask, hoping she will match my gaze again.

She doesn’t look up, but she manages to say, “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask. I promise you I will keep you safe. You can stay here. I’d rather you stay here. You can keep sleeping in my room and I’ll take the couch until we can get another bed put in the third bedroom. You should know, I do have a roommate. His name is Logan. He’s my best friend. But you can trust him, too.” She glances at the closed door down the hall. “He’s not here this weekend. He’s visiting his family.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I hope you do.” I stand up and put both mugs in the sink. “I have to get ready for work. You are welcome to stay here, but if you have things to do, please be careful.”

“Where do you work?” she asks, finally looking at me.

“I’m a bartender at Landry’s. It’s a bar downtown. Have you been there?”

My mind eases when I hear a chuckle leave her mouth. “A college guyanda bartender that doesn’t drink. You really are a bizarre specimen. But yeah, I’ve been there a few times.”

I laugh, the comment a nice reprieve from the tense discussion a moment ago. “Indeed, I am. I’m going to get dressed. Holler if you need anything.” I leave her in the kitchen and change into my work uniform. Just as I’m pulling my belt through the final loop, a knock sounds on my door. “Yeah? You can come in. I’m dressed.” I clasp the belt together as the door slowly opens. Abby peers around the edge before pushing the door open completely.

“Sorry. Do you think I ... Could I, um ...” she stutters, but finally asks her question. She runs a hand through her messy hair. “Could I come with you? Or would that be too much of an inconvenience? I just don’t think I’m ready to be alone yet. I could stay here if I need to. Sorry. I’ll just stay here. Or go back to my apartment if—”

“Abby,” I cut off her rambling. “You are more than welcome to come with. Today shouldn't be too busy.”

The relief that coats her face is the best expression I’ve seen from her all morning. My nerves relax a little at the thought. “Why don’t you get dressed? I have to leave in about ten minutes. Is that enough time for you to get ready?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly high maintenance.”

She’s right. She’s not high maintenance. She was dressed in a minute and threw on some makeup in five. She grabbed her backpack and waited by the door for me to finish packing my things.

When we arrive, I tell her to sit anywhere. She chooses a small booth in the back corner, but she makes sure she places herself in a direct line of sight to my position at the bar.

As I prep for the day, I keep an eye on Abby. She pulls out her laptop and gets to work on whatever it is she needs to get done. Customers trickle in slowly; there’s usually a small rush of the Sunday morning churchgoers. Once I catch up on drinks for a large group table, I wander over to Abby with a glass of water in hand.

“You want anything to eat or drink?” I ask, setting the water down.

“No, I’m okay for now.” She smiles when she looks up.

“Okay. Let me know if you want anything. I’ll put it on my tab.” I head back to the bar, getting started on a beer order. Aubrey has the day off, thank God. Who knows how she’d react to me bringing another girl here? I don’t need her permission, but I don’t think she’d take it well.

Just before the lunch rush, a loud group of guys walks in. Laughter echoes through the mostly empty bar where they barely pay attention to the hostess who gets them a table. They all order the same light beer. All talls, so I get started filling glasses. They are seated near Abby’s booth and when I look past the group to her, she looks petrified. I set down their glasses and quickly place myself between her and the group, blocking her view. Her eyes remain wide.

“I know them. They were at the party on Friday. One of them is Sam’s friend. We had a bit of a ...” she trails off.

“It’s okay. I’ll move them to a different area. Just keep your head down for a second.” I head off to the group and give them a bogus excuse as to why we need to move their table. They don’t question it and move out of Abby’s sight to the new table. “Okay. I moved them. They shouldn’t bother you. I’ll keep an eye on them just in case.”

As the sun shifts in the sky, it slowly illuminates Abby’s face. She’s been shifting between her computer, and a couple of books, periodically jotting down notes in a notebook since I clocked in. Her face remains neutral though she’s put on a pair of what I’m assuming are reading glasses. The frames are clear and suit her face beautifully. And my God, my dick twitches at the sight, forcing me to take in a sharp breath and focus on something else.

When it’s finally time for my break, I tentatively approach Abby, who is still deeply focused on whatever she’s reading. A plate of mozzarella sticks seems like enough of an excuse. “Mind if I join you?”

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