To Fall (The To Fall Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

9

Abby

Dark hair had pasted to his forehead that was creased with concern. Droplets of water fell off him and onto my face, forcing me to blink. He was breathtakingly gorgeous and the exact image from my dream. My heart quickened again at the sight of him. He must have felt it beneath his long, tanned fingers.

“It’s okay. You’re out of the water,” a low, husky voice said. Was this another dream? Was I still at the bottom of the pool dying?

My breathing slowed down and my heart relaxed into its normal rhythm again.
How was that possible
? I should need a pill, but I didn’t.

His hand was still under my shirt, between and on top of my breasts, and it didn’t seem like he intended to move it.

Shooting my eyes to my chest, his cheeks reddened and dragged his hand away, leaving the skin behind warmer than the rest of me. I didn’t want to take my eyes off him out of fear I was hallucinating. If I looked away, he would turn into someone else and this wouldn’t be real.

Murmurs broke out around me, snapping me back to reality.

I choked out a rough, “Thank you.” Wasn’t my best, but considering I was brought back from the Reaper’s grip, it would do.

“Oh my gosh! Abby! Abby! Abby! You scared the hell outta me!” Melanie shrilled. Falling to my side, she yanked me into a hug. The smell of alcohol overpowered the chlorine and her words slurred. So much for her driving me home tonight. Mel grabbed the purse wrapped around my shoulder and looked for my pills.

Beth appeared and held my hand. She looked sober, thank goodness.

I put my hand on Mel’s. “Mel, I’m okay. I don’t need it. Thanks to him.”

All eyes shot to my savior.

He held his hand out for me. “Alexander Wright.”

“Abigail Miller.” As my hand touched his, tingles shot from my fingertips to down my arm. His hand was firm and warm, wrapping around mine. Almost twenty years had passed and I never had a name for him.
Alexander Wright
.

His eyes didn’t stray from me. “Do you think you can stand, Abigail?” His voice alone was enough to qualify him super-sexy, but I certainly didn’t mind the rest of him.

“Abby, please. Everyone calls me Abby. Yes, I’m okay, surprisingly.”

He didn’t let go of my hand; in fact, I felt his other hand grasp my hip and he lifted me in a liquid movement that I wasn’t capable of. Once steady on my feet, he let me go, but something flashed in his eyes when he did.

Facing me, I had another opportunity to examine Alexander, compare him to my dream. “You should go home. That was some hit. Did you drive here to the party?” His hazel eyes pierced into mine, tilting his head, and I stared at the water dripping off his strong jaw.

With a shake of my head, I said, “No. Melanie drove.”

Looking at her sway, we both knew she couldn’t drive.

Alexander frowned. “Uh, I don’t—”

“I’ll drive,” Beth offered.

Closing his mouth, Alexander gave her a curt nod.

I didn’t want to go home, but he was right, I should. I
should be
in the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital or a black bag with a zipper, but somehow, I was okay. Did he do something to me like in my dream? No, that wasn’t possible, but neither was he.

“Please excuse me a moment.” Alexander strode away and I watched. Muscles swelled underneath his wet clothes, sticking to him like a second skin. His back rippled with the simple movement of walking, and even the outlines of his calves were sexy.

Beth and Mel pulled me away from gawking and mouthed at the same time,
HE’S HOT!

I agreed with a gaping nod. I’d never seen a man this good looking in person.

A deep, gruff voice spoke behind us, forcing me to turn from staring at Alexander again. “Uh, hey. I’m sorry I almost killed you, and left you for dead.” Greg’s brown eyes were bloodshot, dark skin paled in the dim lighting, and his large frame wobbled. Greg clutched the football to his bare chest as though it had magical powers to keep him upright.

I put my hand on his arm, shocked to feel him trembling. “Greg, I know it was an accident. It’s okay, really.”

“This is a reminder.” Greg thrust the ball at me. “Don’t stand by the pool when drunk idiots are playing football, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Greg.” I slugged him on the arm, doubtful he even felt it.

Alexander appeared and he handed me a towel; our fingers grazed. Flushing, I looked away. My heart raced all over again and my legs didn’t feel like they had bones anymore. Yep, all of that from a skim of his finger.

“Um, I’m going to excuse myself a moment.” I needed to step away before I said or did anything even more embarrassing. No guy had ever made me this nervous.

Handing the football to Beth, I wrapped the towel around myself. Luckily, the bathroom was empty and didn’t smell like vomit yet. I guess it was earlier than I thought. I dried off as best I could. My braid was unraveling and makeup a bit smudged. I cleaned up and returned to the yard. The girls were where I left them, but Alexander was gone. Did he leave? Panic surged through me.

I whispered, “Where did Xander go?”
Xander
? That kinda flew out of my mouth. I wondered if he would mind the nickname, or if he preferred Alexander or Alex.

They pointed with goofy grins to across the yard.

Alexander stood near the pool, his back turned to us, drying off. He only had shorts on, wringing his shirt of water. The slight movement of his hands sent an undulating effect to each muscle in his upper body. Turning in the dim light, I caught a glimmer on his skin. Two thick, iridescent lines stretched along the length of his back, starting at each shoulder and stopping just inches above his pelvis, tapered to a point at each end. Had I not been staring at him, I would have missed them. If it hadn’t been for those strange marks, his skin would have been flawless.

He turned to face my direction and my mouth went dry, air left my lungs. Cast like a sculpture, his carved chest led into broad shoulders and his arms were bulky and defined. I hated the fact those arms were around me and I didn’t fully appreciate them. My eyes drew down to his abs, a washboard more-than-I-could-count-pack, and cut hips. Etched muscles plunged beneath the low-hung shorts. Good Heavens.

The wet shirt stretched back over his torso, covering up my last glimpse of that hard stomach. As his eyes met mine, he gave me a warm smile. My first smile from him. A bunch of butterflies took off in my stomach. He walked back toward me and the girls left; I would have to thank them later.

The smooth skin around his eyes creased. “I like ‘Xander,’ by the way.”

Any hint of a smile on my face fell away. How did he hear me from across the yard? I had whispered, didn’t I? I was certain I did.

He said, “You should get going soon, so you can rest. Are you feeling all right?”

I nodded, incapable of forming words. Thank goodness the part of my brain in control of motor function was working. I was staring at him again, but I could totally blame that on the near death experience, lack of oxygen to my brain.

Beth and Mel saved me before drool trickled out of my mouth. Mel grumbled that things were just getting good with Tyler, and I mumbled an apology.

Xander followed us out front to the car. Beth and Mel shot me looks of approval, and my stomach churned with nerves. He reached the passenger side before me and opened the door. Guys still did that? Xander waited for me to slip into the car. He grabbed the seatbelt, drew it out, and handed it to me to click in. Our fingers touched again.

Somehow, I found the English language in the recesses of my brain. “Xander, thank you for tonight. I don’t know what you say when someone saves your life other than, thank you.”

He smiled, revealing two rows of straight, bright teeth. His hand encompassed mine and lifted it to his mouth. Soft, full lips kissed my hand.
He kissed my hand
! Forget the butterflies. A flock of birds took off.

Returning my hand to my lap, those hazel eyes sparkled. “It’s a pleasure to
finally
meet you, Abby.” Closing the door, he waited for Beth to pull away and didn’t take his gaze off mine.

Did I hear him right? He said it was a pleasure to
finally
meet me.

Finally
.

10

Abby

“Holy hot guy, Batman!” Mel squealed from the backseat.

Beth grinned behind the wheel. “Yeah, he was so hot he was on fire! I would totally give up my no-boy rule for those muscles.”

I nodded.

“What’s wrong, Abby? Hot boy got your tongue?”

I rolled my eyes at Mel. “He didn’t ask for my number. He must think I’m a spaz.”

“No way, Abby. Did you not see the way he was looking at you? No one else existed. He was intense.” Beth pulled her eyes off the road long enough to make sure I heard her.

Mel’s blood alcohol level made her louder than normal. “And he kissed your hand goodnight! That was even hotter!”

“Mel, he was being polite,” I said, trying to downplay their excitement. Nothing good could come from reading too much into pecking the back of my hand.

“I’m telling you, Abby. He has a thing for you.” Beth sounded sure of herself.

Mel gripped the back of my seat. “Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.”

I shrugged. “Maybe Tyler’s neighbor or relative?”

The girls agreed.

“By the way,” Mel announced, “you two are coming to another party next week.”

This time, Beth cursed.

I had Beth drop me off at the curb. Since Mel was still three sheets to Captain Morgan, Beth would take her home and spend the night. When I stepped inside my house, everyone was huddled on the sofa, watching a movie.

Dad burst out into laughter, and it took me much too long to realize that I was the comedic relief. “You should have brought a bathing suit, Abby.”

I peeled the damp shirt from my stomach. “Ha, ha. I fell in.” Okay, yes, kind of a lie.

He composed himself but poorly. “Are you okay?”

“Just a bruised ego from mortifying embarrassment. I’m gonna get in the shower and go to bed.”

Everyone muttered goodnight.

As I washed the chlorine off me, thoughts bounced through my head. How did I know Xander existed? Who was he? Did he stay at the party and get another girl’s number? A girl that didn’t look like a drowned rat? For a brief moment, I considered not washing the hand that touched his lips, and then threw it under the hot water.

During the night, I tossed, turned, and had my nightmare once. I tried reading a book for a while, but it didn’t help. Xander invaded my thoughts, but it was a welcome invasion. How could I dream of a man my entire life and he appeared looking exactly like I had dreamed him? It just wasn’t possible. This went way beyond déjà vu. Maybe one of my heart attacks gave me psychic powers. Yeah, right.

Popping my earbuds in, I drifted off.

Monday morning, Dad was at work, Mom took the girls to their classes, and Margaret stepped out to the grocery store. Bozo lay on the cool tile by the back door with his puppy dog eyes gazing out. He looked like I felt: cooped up and bored. His eyes wore me down, and I decided to take Bozo for a walk. Even though I didn’t run, I did own a running outfit. After throwing my hair up into a ponytail, I couldn’t resist a touch of lip-gloss to keep the dry, hot air from my lips.

Normally, I had my cell phone on me, but Mom went to get me a new one today since mine met a watery death. I grabbed my emergency pill bottle and stuck it in my front pocket. The sun burned my skin as the temperature was already in the high nineties. “Sorry, Bozo, this is gonna be a short one today.”

He wagged his tail at me and let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth.

The morning sun gleamed off windows and cars, blinding me. I pulled the brim of my hat down and pushed my sunglasses up. Down the street, lawn mowers and leaf blowers sparked to life, manicuring neighbors’ lawns. I couldn’t imagine having a job outside in the summer. Within minutes, my skin was tacky, my already tight clothes adhered to me, and Bozo’s thick hairs stuck to my legs as his tail rubbed up against them.

Bozo pulled too hard on his leash. I had to keep yanking him back and disciplining him as though he understood human. My parents took him running, because speed was the one way to keep him from noticing the neighborhood. When we reached the park, Bozo spotted a few neighborhood kids and dragged me; I tugged his leash the opposite way. There was a canal behind the subdivision, which would be quieter. We strolled along the rocky trail that was usually occupied by runners and bikers. I kept us clear of the holes dug from burrowing animals and away from thick brush that a snake could hide in.

The stagnant brown canal water was littered with wilted leaves from the sparse desert trees and bushes. Surrounding our community were fields and farms that used the water for irrigation. Where I lived was a strange mixture of the city, suburbs, rural farms, and desert. Travel one mile in any direction and you were bound to be in a different division. A half a mile from my house was a dairy farm; the faint odor of manure filled the air as we neared it. Hot manure smell. Gross.

Bozo earned his name today. He sniffed and picked up everything in our path. I didn’t have the strength or endurance to stop him each time. I should have known better and left him at home. Bozo’s body tensed with his nose in the air, signaling me he was onto something. Before I could yank him back, he pulled hard on the leash and I stumbled forward. My eyes caught what had his attention—a quail sprinted in front of us. Bozo jerked against the leash again; I planted my feet and held my ground.

Bozo flipped his body backward, the collar slipped off, and the leash went slack. I groaned. I guess he could be smart when he wanted to be. I was going to have to go after him because if Bozo ran back into the neighborhood, a car could hit him. I was already winded from the exercise and the heat, but he wasn’t too far away. Twenty feet? I could catch him.

A slight jog ought to do it. I was close to grabbing his scruff, but he sprinted off again, another twenty feet away. My heart pounded behind my chest wall and my breaths came hard and fast. The hot air was harsh in my throat.

Pushing myself to close the distance, my legs moved faster this time. A few feet from Bozo, tightness clamped around my heart and a chill ran through my limbs. I was in trouble. Clutching my chest, I could only swallow shallow puffs, lungs burning for a full breath. My legs wobbled beneath me, hands tingled, and pain screamed through as though a saguaro landed on my heart.

My knees and hands hit the hard dirt, and rough gravel dug into my flesh. Moving my hand to my pocket, I cursed. No cell phone. I should try to get to the street so someone could help me, but my body was failing.

Gripping my pill bottle, my eyesight blurred and focus would have been awesome right now, because I couldn’t feel my fingers to lift the plastic lid.

I needed help like yesterday, but I couldn’t muster air to scream. The lub-dub of my heart slowed in my ears. Pain became my focus. What did I have to do again? Whatever was holding me up, gave way. The ground rushed toward me, my shoulder and head hit the hard dirt, and my sunglasses flew off. A plume of dust mixed with the blinding light of the sun filtered over me, and I let my eyes close.

I awoke to a weightless feeling, my body swayed, warm skin embraced mine, and the scent of clouds enveloped me. Blinking, the searing sun filled my vision.

“Welcome back.” My heart raced again to the low, husky voice.