Page 19 of Pregnancy Scandal
She took another swig, slammed the bottle down hard on the counter, then glowered at me.
“You…” Abby pointed and shook her head. “I’m hardly the ugliest woman you’ve ever been with. But you treat me like a leprechaun. No not that…I mean a leper. Yes that’s right. A leper with my skin falling off. There was that girl last month who followed you around like a dog. A groupie. I know you slept with her.”
I was ashamed to admit I didn’t know who she meant, because that could have been any of the sea of admirers I’d had last month. It didn’t take much for Abby to call someone ugly, and that was either because they were—which I never liked to say—or because she thought they were prettier than her.
Only God could count the amount of times she’d called Giselle ugly. She didn’t know how Victoria’s Secret decided to allow everyone through the door, and she all but boycotted Chanel when Giselle got her contract.
“Abby, you know my decision was not based on how you look.” I tried to explain.
She picked up the glass and walked around to me, once again holding it out for me to take.
“Drink it.” She shoved the glass in my chest. “Drink it! Damn it… don’t say no.”
God… what the hell was I going to do with her tonight?
I took the drink and sipped it, of course, because it was super strong. I didn’t expect anything less from Grandpa Cartwright. That man was something else. I saw him tonight drinking his heart out. The man even left with a woman more than half his age. He was in his mid-eighties and acting like he was in the prime of his life. He’d done his grieving for a whole five years when Abby’s grandmother passed, then it was like he became something else. The sugar daddy who flashed around his wealth and riches and bought authentic, unusual drinks from all around the world.
Shit, this rum was so strong it burned the back of my throat, and the little sip I had seemed to hit my mind straightaway.
“Drink more,” she ordered.
Another sip was all I had, and that was it. I was over that line and hanging on to the edge of logic.
I chuckled even though I didn’t know why I was laughing, then set the glass back on the counter. No more, no matter what she said.
“Abby, I need to go…home. It’s been a long night.”
“You said we should talk.” She frowned. “You want me to wait another day when we haven’t spoken in days?”
I didn’t know how she was managing to be so coherent, because my brain wasn’t working. It felt like mushed up peas.
“Not tonight. I can’t.”
“It’s me, isn’t it. That’s the answer.” She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears. “Just tell me. It would be easier for you to be with someone else. I’m not your type. You think I’m ugly and gross. I’m not the Victoria’s Secret model or the beautiful groupies you always have on your arm. I’m so stupid. I already knew all of that, so why would I ask you something so outrageous?”
I reached out and cupped her face. “It’s not you. Abby, you’re beautiful.”
Through the drink-filled haze of intoxication, something sparkled in her eyes and brightened her face.
“You told me that once, right before you kissed me. At least I think you kissed me.”
I widened my eyes and stared at her. She was talking about that moment over ten years ago. She was talking about it now. She nodded and placed her forefinger to her bottom lip.
“It was here and probably no more than a second, but it felt like… fire.” She nodded. “Fire. Like a jolt of fire washed over me and burned my soul.”
“Fire…” I said mindlessly.
“Fire from a one-second kiss. I’d never been kissed like that before.”
Her words seeped into me. Right into my mind and deep inside me to that part of me I didn’t realize I’d suppressed until now.
She held my gaze, looking at me with those beautiful eyes of hers. Her skin felt so soft against my hands. I took advantage of the moment and ran my finger over the edge of her jaw and loved the way she closed her eyes, savoring the touch.
When her eyes fluttered open, she reached up to my jaw and ran her fingers across my beard and over to the top of my lip.
“I’m going to kiss you, now.” She nodded. “And, just to be clear, it’s not going to be the way a friend should kiss another. I’m going to kiss you because I want you, Gilman Hawkins, the sexiest man alive.”
Even if I weren’t drunk, there would have been no fucking way I would have said no to that.
