Determinism (Cara & Abel's Story) (5 page)

What are you wearing?
Is he serious? That’s the text he sends me after not talking to him for weeks? I text him back.
You can’t ask your friends things like that. Oh wait. I haven’t talked to you in so long, are we even still friends?

There. That would sure piss him off. Is he crazy? Well, I guess I am talking about Abel and he’s definitely a bit out there.
Sorry, wrong person. I didn’t mean to send that to you. You know this friendship thing works two ways. I haven’t heard from you either.

Ugh, he is so frustrating. Did he really mean to ask someone else what they were wearing? I know I shouldn’t be mad, but that pisses me off.
Go fuck yourself, Abel, and text the right person.

Oh, kitten, how I have missed you. I’m just fucking with you. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.

I forgot how exasperating he is. I should have known better than that; he was just messing with me.

I don’t wear panties.
I hit send before I realize what I’ve typed. Shit, that’s not something you tell your “friend.”

I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist telling me. What else are you not wearing?

I’m not going to respond to him. I’ve made it this long, and pushed away my feelings for him. I get up and go into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and a snack. I lie back down on the couch and look at my phone. There are no more texts. Good, he got my point. Bastard.

I open my box of crackers and pop a few in my mouth. Turning the TV back on, I flip through the channels searching for something to watch. My phone vibrates again, and I grab it. Shit, now he is calling. I chew fast and answer.

“Yes.”

“Kitten, why didn’t you text me back?”

I take a drink of my water. “Because I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

“If that’s really the case, then why did you answer my call?”

Geez, he’s so pushy. “I didn’t look at the screen; I thought it was someone else calling.”

“Right. So you’re telling me that you always answer your phone by saying ‘yes?’”

“Jesus, you’re such a pain in my ass. Just tell me what the hell you want.”

He chuckles. “I want to know what you’re wearing.”

“Fine. If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

“Maybe.”

“In that case, you tell me first.”

“I’m wearing a pair of grey sweatpants.”

“And?”

“That’s it, now it’s your turn, kitten.”

I look down at myself. “I’m wearing grey sweats as well and a red tank top.”

“And?” he whispers.

“That’s it.”

“Do you really not wear underwear?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Fuck,” he mutters and I hear the phone get muffled.

“Where are you?”

“In my bed. Where are you?”

“My couch,” I say and yawn.

“Are you tired?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I’ll let you go then; I don’t want to keep you.”

No, I don’t want to go; I like talking to him. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed him.

“No, it’s okay. Why did you really call?”

He takes a deep breath. “We’re having a BBQ at the station and I wanted to invite you.”

“Like a date?”

“No. Not a date, as friends.”

“When is it?”

“It’s tomorrow afternoon.”

“Can we take your bike?”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll go.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at noon?”

“That works for me.”

“See you tomorrow, kitten.”

“Bye,” I say and hang up.

My phone rings and I scramble to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, how are you?” It’s Alexa.

“Hey, I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good. Vincent is at a conference this weekend and I wanted to see if we could hang out.”

Shit. I don’t want to lie to her, but I look at the clock; it’s ten till noon. I know Abel will be here any minute and I don’t have time to explain what I’m doing right now. “Yeah, that sounds great. I just got called into work, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Okay, that’s perfect. Do you want me to pick you up in the morning and we can grab breakfast?”

“Yeah, that’s great. I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hang up and finish strapping my black wedge sandals. I take one final look at myself in the mirror. I’m dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black tank top. My blonde hair is flowing down my back in soft waves. I have very little makeup on, opting for a more natural look.

The doorbell rings and I fly down the stairs. I open the door and almost melt at the sight of Abel.
Damn, he looks good.
He’s dressed in a pair of jeans, boots, and a leather coat. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him. He has it styled in a messy, sexy way.

“Damn, Cara. Is that really what you want to wear today?” he asks barging into my house.

“Yeah. Why?” I ask, clearly confused.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and says, “Well, for starters I’m not taking you on my bike in those shoes.”

I look down at myself perplexed. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“If we got into an accident, I don’t even want to think about your feet. I was called to a fatal motorcycle accident this week, and it reminded me of how dangerous bikes can be.”

“Okay, I’ll change. Don’t worry.”

I turn to head upstairs, and Abel follows me. We enter my room and I go into my closet in search of a pair of boots. When I come out, he is standing with his hands in his pockets staring at me. I show him my leather knee high boots; they’re the only pair of leather ones I have.

“They’ll do for the ride, but bring your sandals too.”

I nod my head. He’s so bossy, and deep down I love it. I sit on the side of my bed and make quick work of taking off my sandals and putting on my boots. I stand up and then lean back down to pull the leather all the way up. When I look up at him, his jaw is clenched watching me.

“Better?” I ask standing straight and placing my hands on my hips.

“I guess, if that’s all you have.”

“What’s your problem?”

He steps closer and looks intently into my eyes like he is searching for something. “I’m really trying here, okay? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me?”

I shake my head and say, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, let’s get going before we’re late.”

He turns and walks out of my room.
What does he mean?
Today he’s so difficult to read. He needs to remember he was the one who called and invited me. I pick my sandals up off the floor and head downstairs. He’s waiting for me at the front door. I don’t know what to say to him, so I open the closet door to grab a hoodie.

“Don’t bother, I got you something.”

I look at him, surprised. “It’s just a leather jacket. After the accident I saw this week I can’t risk anything happening. That’s why I got so pissed about your shoes.”

“Thank you,” I say, leaning over to give him a hug. He wraps me in his firm grip and I inhale deeply. Closing my eyes, I devour his scent. I know what I’m doing is wrong, but damn it, these feelings are so hard to fight. He pulls away from me and I slowly open my eyes. Ever so gently, he takes his fingers pushing the hair out of my eyes and behind my ear. I swallow hard and want him to kiss me. My body is a mess of raging hormones. He grabs my hand and we walk out of my condo towards his awaiting Harley. His grip is firm and I like how his hand feels around mine. Walking up to his bike, he opens one of the saddlebags and pulls out a cute little black leather jacket. I take it from him in exchange for my shoes, which he places in the bag. I slide the jacket on; it fits perfectly. I zip it up and look to him for approval.

“Damn, you look good in leather.”

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

“Of course. I’m glad it fits; they only had one size small left.”

He hands me my helmet, which I quickly get on, and then wrap my hair into a large bun at the base of my neck.

“Ready?” he asks. I nod my head and we climb on the bike. As he pulls out, I think about lying to Alexa. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell her that I was going with Abel. I guess part of me doesn’t want to hear her motherly lecture. I know it’s coming; I gave it to her when she started seeing Vincent. But what am I talking about? I’m not seeing Abel, nor am I going to. We are two friends going to a BBQ. I’m thinking too hard about all of this and my head hurts already from the mind fuck I’m giving myself. I need a drink; I can tell it’s going to be one of those kinds of days.

I open my eyes but my vision is blurry and my head hurts. I clamp my eyes shut and pull the covers over my head. I realize as I lie there that I have a hangover. Damn it, I hate hangovers. I try again to open my eyes, this time with my head tucked underneath the covers. Once I manage to pull my vision into focus I notice that my sheets are dark gray.
What the hell?
I pull the covers back and blink wildly looking around. I’m not in my room. Shit, where am I? I look next to me and no one else is in the bed. I go to get up and my clothes are thrown all over the floor.

Motherfucker.

Think, Cara, think. What happened? I remember being at the BBQ, and I started taking shots with Troy. I sit up and look around but there is no sign of Abel. Quietly, I get out of bed and leave the bedroom. Once I reach the living room I’m stopped dead in my tracks. Sleeping peacefully on the couch is Abel. He is naked from the waist up and his body is almost covered in tattoos. I thought it was just his arms, but they’re everywhere. I step closer wanting to get a better look at his art when the floor creaks. His sleepy eyes open and he looks at me. I smile shyly at him, not able to remember what happened last night.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

I shake my head, and realize I feel like I’m going to pass out. He sits up and pats the couch next to him. I walk over and sit down. Looking at myself I suddenly realize I’m wearing one of his Denver Fire t-shirts and nothing else. Sitting down, I go to grab a pillow to pull on my lap, but he covers me with the blanket he was using instead.

Abel gets up, and as he walks by, I can’t miss the hard on he has. I look up at him and he puts his hand over it.

“It’s just morning wood, kitten. Don’t worry. Nothing like that happened last night.”

He walks off and goes into what I assume is the bathroom. Holy shit, his dick is huge. Alexa told me Vincent was hung, but I never thought about Abel being big as well. Clearly he is, because I’ve never seen anything like that before. I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my head on them. I close my eyes to try and make my head stop throbbing.

I hear the door open and I look at Abel as he comes out of the bathroom. His hair is wet and I assume that he splashed himself with water.

“Have you thrown up any more?” he asks.

Shit, I threw up?
“No.”

“You’re not a morning person are you?”

“I normally am, but I hate having a hangover. It’s the worst feeling in the world.”

“I know it is. I tried to tell you last night to slow down, but there was no stopping you.”

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

I shake my head and he comes from the kitchen with a glass of water and a handful of pills. “Take these.”

I look at the six pills he hands me and don’t question him in the slightest. I knock them back and slam the entire glass of water.

“I’ll give you the shortened version, okay?”

I nod my head again and an orange tabby cat jumps into his lap. It lies down and he automatically pets it as he speaks. “You and Troy thought it would be a good idea to see who could outdrink who. One thing led to another and after hours of beer pong and I don’t know how many shots, you could barely stand. I obviously couldn’t take you home on the bike, so we walked here since the BBQ was at the station. I planned on taking you home in my truck, but then you started to throw up. After that, let’s just say your hormones kicked in and you pulled out every trick in the book to try and get me into bed with you. Trust me, I wanted you so bad, I wished someone would’ve just killed me. But I wouldn’t do that to you. At least, not until you tell me when you’re clearheaded that you want me.”