A Is for Abstinence (10 page)

She had that pained expression back on her face. She was smiling, but it wasn’t reaching her eyes. I wanted to know what she was upset about, but I didn’t know how to ask.

I looked at her, wishing she would say something, and she watched me, waiting for the same thing. The moment felt almost identical to the last time we’d seen each other. It felt like this sort of hopeless, bittersweet farewell. Saying good-bye felt so inevitable four years ago, but now I couldn’t accept it. I wasn’t going to let her get away so easily this time.

“Val, have dinner with me tonight. Please?”

I heard the desperation in my request, but I couldn’t calm myself. I was slightly panicked that she might turn me down.

She opened her mouth and nothing came out of it.

“I really have missed you,” I said.

I took her hands in mine and squeezed them. She squeezed back and gave me another tragic smile. “I missed you, too.” She glanced across the parking lot to where her parents and birth mom were waiting for her, trying—and failing—to look like they weren’t watching us. “I think my parents and I are going to have dinner with my birth mom tonight.” She paused, torn by indecision. “If you’d like to join us, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

I almost accepted the offer. I wanted to more than anything. I was shocked she’d invited me, and touched that she was willing to include me even if she did seem unsure about it. But she needed privacy while getting to know her birth mom, so, as much as it killed me, I turned her down. “I don’t want to interfere with that. That should be a family thing.”

Val’s tiny sigh of relief was bittersweet. “Thanks.” She took a big breath. “I still can’t really wrap my head around it. My
birth
mom.” She closed her arms around herself as if the idea made her insecure. “She says I have a younger half-brother, too.”

“Wow.”

Val nodded. “Yeah. Wow. I mean I’m happy but…it’s a lot to take in. I think I’m going to need some time to sort out my feelings about everything.”

I didn’t like seeing her so flustered. “I’m sorry they blindsided you like that. And I’m sorry they threw me into the mix on top of it. I couldn’t have made it any easier dropping another song on you.”

I was too nervous to smile. Did she like the song? She still hadn’t said anything about it. Was she upset about seeing me again?

Val shook her head. “I’m glad you were here. It was good seeing you again. I’m sorry we don’t have more time to catch up.”

I finally realized what her sadness was about—she was saying good-bye. She wasn’t planning to keep in touch after this. I had to do something.

“How long are you in town?”

Val’s smile fell again. “I fly back early tomorrow morning. I’ve got work.”

My gut twisted. She was leaving in the morning, and from the way she said it, she definitely considered this the end.
Hey, it was so good to see you again, Kyle. It’s been fun, but my life doesn’t include you anymore, so good-bye, Kyle.

Not knowing what else to do, I pulled one of the remaining CDs out of my bag and scribbled a note on it. I signed it “For the world’s greatest muse. Eternally in your debt, Kyle Hamilton.” Then I wrote, “Call me!” and put my cell number below it. I underlined it several times.

“I mean it,” I said as she read the inscription. “Call me.”

Val nodded, but I had my doubts that she would call. She looked back toward her family and gave me one last miserable smile. “I should go.”

When she turned to leave, my heart pretty much stopped. “Val, wait!”

I grabbed her and crushed her to me in a hug that was likely to suffocate her. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I just couldn’t let her go. I squeezed and squeezed as if that could somehow magically convince her not to walk away from me.

The second our bodies connected, my heart pounded in my chest and my entire body ached. I was alive again, tingling all over with reckless, passionate energy. Having her in my arms like this was right. It was what I needed. She was the part of me that had been missing for so long. I’d loved Adrianna and would have been happy with her, but she’d never made me feel like this. Like I could do anything. Like I deserved everything. Like I was complete, and life just couldn’t get any better.

Val’s chest heaved against mine, her heart pounding, too. I could feel it.

“Val.” It came out a strangled whisper.

I didn’t lose control. When I kissed her, it was deliberate. I wasn’t letting her walk away from me without making sure she understood that things were not finished between us. I threw my mouth on hers as if both of our lives depended on it. And you know what? She. Kissed. Me. Back. Our lips touched and we exploded. We were gasoline and fire. We were years of suppressed desire finally being unleashed. We were hunger, passion, and need.

We were epic.

Val broke away first, gasping for breath. “I should go.”

My arms tightened around her waist. “You should stay.”

“I
have
to go.”

She sounded tortured enough that I knew I’d gotten to her. Our kiss would stay with her long after she walked away from me. Good. She just needed one more for good measure. Okay, maybe it was me who needed one more.

I pushed a strand of her hair that had fallen from its twist behind her ear and lowered my lips to hers again. I kissed her gently this time, reveling in her sweetness now that the passion was out of the way. This kiss was different—more. It was an expression of all the quieter emotions in us; feelings neither of us would acknowledge that refused to stay silent any longer. It was soft and tender. I felt it all the way to my bones.

When I pulled back, her eyes fluttered open as if she were waking from a dream. It made me want to kiss her all over again. “Fine. You have to go,” I said, running my fingertips across her cheek. “But this isn’t good-bye. I’m not letting you walk away this time.”

“Kyle…”

“No. I made that mistake once. I won’t do it again. Good night, Val. Have a good time with your parents. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I walked away before she could argue.

The Not Everybody’s Doing It Foundation
rented out an office the size of a Crackerjack box in a strip mall in Pasadena that had seen better days. I felt depressed just looking at the place, and that was
before
I worked up the nerve to go inside.

I still wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing—my managers thought I was crazy—but I didn’t know how else to get Val’s attention.

It had been over a week since the Connie Parker Show taping, and she’d never called. I wasn’t surprised. I’d been too caught up in the moment to recognize that kiss for what it was until hours later when I was unable to sleep. She’d kissed me all right, but I was pretty sure that for her that kiss had been something we’d never quite managed four years ago: closure.

At first, I was hurt when she didn’t call. How could she want closure after that kiss? How could she stay away? Then I got angry. I didn’t deserve to be blown off. Finally, I decided to just get determined. There was no way the connection I felt between us was one-sided. I’ve been with way too many women in my life not to know that chemistry like ours was real—a tangible, undeniable energy. Hell no. She felt it. I knew she did. And I was going to make her admit it.

Phase one of The Plan was on the other side of the dingy window I sat parked in front of. I tugged my baseball cap low over my eyes and headed inside before someone recognized me. I didn’t need to get mobbed before I was ready to answer questions about what I was doing at an organization that promotes abstinence.

The office looked even smaller on the inside, packed, as it was, with boxes of leaflets and brochures on everything from STD awareness, to avoiding teen pregnancy, to celebrating virtue.

There was an entire table in the front window devoted to V is for Virgin and Val’s abstinence challenge. There was a computer there so that people could browse the website and sign up for the challenge. Above the desk and all over the walls there were pictures of people with their name and their pledge to abstain from sex.

I sort of understood now—a little—why someone would make the choice to wait to have sex, but why did all these people look so damn happy about it? I might be abstaining from meaningless casual sex now, but I wasn’t jumping for joy over my newfound celibacy. In fact, it pretty much sucked.

“Kyle Hamilton?”

I managed not to jump at the unexpected voice, but I still felt like an idiot just for being here. “Uh, yeah.” I took my hat off and ran my fingers through my hair. “I guess I need to speak to the person in charge?”

“That would be Darla. She’s already gone for the day. Is there anything I can help you with?”

I was about to say no and use this as an excuse to leave when I recognized the woman standing in front of me. “You were at the taping last week.”

She nodded. “I was there.”

The woman, whose belly looked as if it were ready to burst, looked me over with a mixture of wariness and amusement that could only mean she knew me. Well, knew me by reputation, and not just my celebrity status. I’d bet money that this woman knew Val personally, and therefore knew my history with Val.

“Have we met?” We probably had, and I felt stupid again for not knowing who she was.

The woman smirked. “I don’t know that we’ve ever been formally introduced, but we’ve met on several occasions, yes.” She held out a fat, swollen hand. “I’m Robin. I’ve known Val since high school.”

A vague recollection of a younger, less pregnant girl with soft brown hair and a light smattering of freckles hunched over a computer jumped into my mind. “That’s right. You were her friend who did all of her website stuff.”

Shock washed over the woman, but she quickly smirked to cover it up. “I’m surprised you remember.”

She might not be as feisty as Cara or Val, but I could see why she was her friend. “Contrary to what Val might have told you,” I teased, “I
am
capable of paying attention to more than just myself.”

She raised a questioning brow that made me laugh. Busted. “It happens on rare occasions,” I admitted. “When it’s important.”

“If you say so.” She still seemed skeptical.

She suddenly hunched over and grabbed her stomach as she forced out a long, slow breath.

When I realized what was happening, I panicked. “Are you having a
baby
?”

I don’t know why she thought my question was so funny, but she laughed, waving off my concern as I helped her into a nearby chair. “Should I call an ambulance or something?”

She laughed again. “It’s fine, Kyle, just a mild contraction. I’ve been on my feet too much today.”

“Don’t contractions mean it’s time to have a baby? I can drive you to the hospital, if you need. Is there, like, a baby daddy you need me to call?”

“You mean my husband?” She kicked off her shoes and rubbed her feet—which looked twice the size they should have. “Relax,” she said. “This baby’s not coming for almost two months, I promise. Mild contractions are completely normal once you’re in the third trimester.”

I pointed to her ankles. “
That
doesn’t look normal. I really think I should take you to a doctor.”

She laughed at my horrified gaze and finally loosened up. The edge of wariness she’d had since I walked in dissolved into something I could almost mistake for affection. “I can understand what she sees in you,” she said suddenly.

The burst of pride I felt at her praise was unexpected. I generally didn’t care what anyone thought of me, but this woman was a friend of Val’s. Her approval meant something. And maybe if I could win her over, she would help me with Val.

“So what can the Not Everybody’s Doing It Foundation do for you, Kyle?”

I startled at the question. The whole pregnant-woman-having-contractions scare made me forget all about where I was and what I was doing here.

“Have you finally come to take Val’s challenge? Here to pledge your abstinence?”

If that’s what it took…

I pulled my shoulders back and puffed out my chest. I refused to let this woman see how nervous I was about this. “As a matter of fact, I am.” I dangled my bracelet for Robin to see. “I wasn’t lying last week. I’ve already been abstinent for eight months. I thought Val would like it if I made it official.”