The feeling should have been disgusting, but it wasn’t.
After going to the restroom and cleaning herself up, she brought a washcloth back to bed for Abe. His face was turned to the side, his right arm and leg hanging off the bed. His breathing was even and heavy with sleep. He looked how he did when she thought he was passed out. There was a small twinge of hurt and disappointment that settled within her at the fact that he had fallen right to sleep.
Climbing in bed she pulled the covers over them and closed her eyes. Her dreams wouldn’t be just dreams anymore, but reality.
She just prayed to God that in the morning things weren’t royally fucked up.8Fuck.
The room was spinning when Abe peeled his eyes open. The sun was to his back, and he was thankful for small fucking miracles. At least it wasn’t blinding the shit out of him and further increasing the sledgehammer that was doing construction right behind his damn eyes.
Closing said eyes again, he breathed through the wave of nausea that assaulted him. When his stomach settled, he pushed himself up on the bed and covered his head with his hands. He didn’t just feel like shit. He felt like a big pile of fucking steaming shit. It was then that he felt the chill in the air and pulled his head out of his hands to look down at his lower half.
He was naked. Buck-fucking-naked. He tried to recall what in the hell happened last night and how he got in his bed, but the last memory that surfaced was him almost beating the shit out of some punk at the bar.
How in the hell did I get home?
He spotted his clothes strewn all over the damn place and picked up his underwear to slide them on. The bathroom seemed fucking miles away, but he stumbled forward. After taking a piss, washing his face, and brushing the stale taste out of his mouth, he had every intention of falling face-first back in bed, but the sound of cupboards banging in his kitchen had him looking at the clock.
Seven in the fucking morning. Why in the hell did Kid have to come so damn early?
He didn’t bother putting anything else on, just headed out of his room and into the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon had his stomach cramping, but he tamped that shit down. Damn, he drank way too much yesterday, but then again, he always drank too much, especially when he was reliving memories that hurt. If Abe did anything, it sure as fuck wasn’t half-assed.
He rounded the corner and saw Kid standing in front of the stove. Her clothes looked rumpled as hell, and her long black hair, which she normally wore down, was piled high atop her head in a messy knot. When she turned around and started piling eggs and bacon on the two plates at the island, he was struck by how beautiful she was. Little wisps of black hair came undone from her knot and fell around her face.
He stood in the doorway, just watching her, reveling in the idea she still thought she was alone and he could take all the time he wanted just watching her. How many fucking years had he sat and watched her whilst she was unaware? A whole lot. Yeah. It was creepy as fuck, but when a man had a girl like Sophia Kidd by his side, and she had that kind of beauty, it was hard not to get sucked into it.
Their relationship had started out as friends, but as the years progressed, he started noticing her as a hell of a lot more than just the girl who tagged along with him to the lake. She was his best friend and he loved her, but the love he felt for her was far stronger than what was appropriate.
There could never be anything between them, not if he hoped to keep her in his life, and he definitely wanted to keep her in his life for as long as she’d have him. He was fucked up, something he could honestly admit, and a girl like Sophia was far too good for the likes of him.
Abe could never give her what she deserved. Hell, he couldn’t even promise himself that he wouldn’t drink. The alcohol was becoming a problem, as was the fighting. Getting sloshed to help ease his pain and anger helped at first, but it was requiring more and more liquor to get peace from the nightmares that haunted him about his parents’ deaths.
How many nights had he woken in a cold sweat because he heard his mother scream for help, heard his father calling out for him? Too many to fucking count. The only person he could depend on was the beautiful woman in front of him who put up with his shit day after day.