Page 28 of Freak
A new thought pushed into her head—or really, a very old and unwelcome one, which she’d dug out long ago. This intruder suggested that no one like Mel could truly be attracted to someone like her. In addition to being ruggedly, conventionally handsome, Mel was Horde. That club had a ‘horde’ of beautiful women who made themselves available for sex. He probably had a different woman every day of the week, whereas she’d had sex exactly twice in her life, more than twenty years ago. Even when she’d wanted romance, few men had ever shown the slightest interest. And that had been decades ago, when she was young.
She was too old, too plump, too inexperienced, too ...dowdyto be attractive to a man like Mel, the intruder in her head insisted.
Wait just one minute.
Abigail had exiled that self-defeating way of thinking long ago. She knew her worth. She also knew that there were many ways to be beautiful—and that, moreover, physical beauty had nothing whatsoever to do with one’s worth as a person.
It had been many years since she’d worried about her looks or considered herself less-than because she didn’t look like a Hollywood superstar. Why on earth, at her age, with all her experiences, with the wisdom for which people sought her help, would she allow such negativity into her head now?
Mel had told her he found her beautiful. Either she believed him, or she thought he was a liar.
He was not a liar.
So she ended her spoken thought with, “If we want to be together, I’d mean it seriously. Right from the start. That’s a lot, I know, but ... I just can’t imagine straddling this fence.”
He grinned broadly like he’d had a funny thought, and shook that off before he replied, “It’s been a long time since I was serious with a girl, but I can’t imagine being anything less with you. I don’t want to make too many promises before anything happens, I don’t know the future, but yeah, Abs. I wouldn’t make this move just to fuck you. I want more than that, too. When I’m not around you, I want to be. When I am around you, I never want to be anywhere else.”
Fuckwas such a harsh, ugly word. Abigail disliked it deeply—but his use of it brought another important point home. “I’d want to move slow, Mel, with the physical part. It’s been ... a really, really long time.” What would he think to know how long ago, and how few, her experiences had been? What would he think to know that kind of intimacy scared her?
She’d tell him, but not quite yet. This conversation was already so full it threatened to burst.
His hand was still on her neck; he leaned in again and set his forehead to hers.
It was the most intimate, romantic touch Abigail had ever in her life experienced, somehow even more intimate and romantic than their two kisses—not to mention anything any other man had done. That chaste, gentle touch conveyed his care and patience perfectly. With him, she was safe, and she was cared for.
“As long as you need, Abs. You’re worth the wait.”
Chapter Nine
At the insistence ofhis alarm, Mel pried his eyelids up and groaned at the punishing brightness. Either his bedroom had been relocated to the surface of the sun while he’d slept, or he’d forgotten to close his curtains. Slamming his eyes shut again, he flung an arm out, found his phone in the blankets, and slapped at it until it shut up. Then he grabbed it and rolled to his side, crafted a shelter of his pillows, and opened his eyes again, now in the shade he’d created.
Three messages awaited him; one from Badger, one from Kellen, and—the reason he’d gone looking—one from Abigail. With some persistent cajoling, he’d convinced her to try texting for casual conversation when they weren’t together. Once she’d started, she’d taken to it readily, making little stories of her activities throughout the day.
He opened hers first, of course.
Morning, sunshine! I hope you slept great.
