Walking Disaster

face to my lips, and
then I knew.
    “Night, Pidge,” I whispered, turning over, cussing at myself like never before. She was incredibly drunk, though, and I wasn’t going to take advantage. Especially not after
she’d forgiven me for the spectacle I’d made with Megan.
    Abby fidgeted for several minutes before finally taking a breath. “Trav?” She leaned up on her elbow.
    “Yeah?” I said, not moving. I was afraid if I looked into her eyes, all rational thought would go out the window.
    “I know I’m drunk, and we just got into a ginormous fight over this, but . . .”
    “I’m not having sex with you, so quit asking.”
    “What? No!”
    I laughed and turned, looking at her sweet, horrified expression. “What, Pigeon?”
    “This,” she said, laying her head on my chest and stretching her arm across my stomach, hugging me close.
    Not what I was expecting. At all. I held up my hand and froze in place, unsure what the hell to do. “You
are
drunk.”
    “I know,” she said, shameless.
    No matter how pissed she would be in the morning, I couldn’t say no. I relaxed one hand against her back, and the other on her wet hair, and then kissed her forehead. “You are the
most confusing woman I’ve ever met.”
    “It’s the least you can do after scaring off the only guy that approached me tonight.”
    “You mean Ethan the rapist? Yeah,
I
owe
you
for that one.”
    “Never mind,” she said, beginning to pull away.
    My reaction was instantaneous. I held her arm against my stomach. “No, I’m serious. You need to be more careful. If I wasn’t there . . . I don’t even want to think about
it. And now you expect me to apologize for running him off?”
    “I don’t want you to apologize. It’s not even about that.”
    “Then what’s it about?” I asked. I’d never begged for anything in my life, but I was silently begging for her to tell me she wanted me. That she cared about me.
Something. We were so close. It would just take another inch or so for our lips to touch, and it was a mental feat not to give in to that inch.
    She frowned. “I’m drunk, Travis. It’s the only excuse I have.”
    “You just want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”
    She didn’t answer.
    I turned, looking straight into her eyes. “I should say no to prove a point,” I said, my eyebrows pulling together. “But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never
asked me again.”
    She happily nestled her cheek against my chest. With my arms wrapped around her tight, it was hard to keep it together. “You don’t need an excuse, Pigeon. All you have to do is
ask.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Oz
    A BBY PASSED OUT BEFORE I DID. HER BREATHING evened out, and her body relaxed against mine. She was warm, and her nose made
the slightest, sweetest buzzing noise when she inhaled. Her body in my arms felt way too good. It was something I could get used to far too easily. As scared as that made me, I couldn’t
move.
    Knowing Abby, she would wake up and remember she was a hard-ass, and yell at me for letting it happen or, worse, resolve to never let it happen again.
    I wasn’t stupid enough to hope, or strong enough to stop myself from feeling the way I did. Total eye-opener. Not so tough, after all. Not when it came to Abby.
    My breathing slowed, and my body sank into the mattress, but I fought the fatigue that steadily overtook me. I didn’t want to close my eyes and miss even a second of what it felt like to
have Abby so close.
    She stirred, and I froze. Her fingers pressed into my skin, and then she hugged herself up against me once before relaxing again. I kissed her hair, and leaned my cheek against her forehead.
    Closing my eyes for just a moment, I took a breath.
    I opened my eyes again, and it was morning. Fuck. I knew I shouldn’t have.
    Abby was wiggling around, trying to unwedge herself out from under me. My legs were on top of hers, and my arm still held her.
    “Stop it, Pidge. I’m sleepin’,” I said, pulling her closer.
    She pulled her limbs out from under me, one at a time, and then sat on the bed and sighed.
    I slid my hand across the bed, reaching the tips of her small, delicate fingers. Her back was to me, and she didn’t turn around.
    “What’s wrong, Pigeon?”
    “I’m going to get a glass of water. You want anything?”
    I shook my head, and closed my eyes. Either she was going to pretend it didn’t happen, or she was pissed. Neither option a good one.
    Abby walked out, and I lay there