Bad Boy (Invertary 5)

Lawrence pulled her tight against him. There were no words for her pain, but he offered what comfort and reassurance he could with the strength of his arms and his silent belief she was able to face the future by his side. No matter what the future held.

27

“I can see the carrot at the end of the tunnel.”

Stuart Pearce, former England national player

“I didn’t sleep with her.” Flynn’s voice sliced through the darkness surrounding Abby as she sat on the porch outside her kitchen door. The sun had long ago disappeared and the cool dark of the night had wrapped her in its intimate cocoon. Flynn sat down on the step near her, not looking at her, instead staring out into the black night. “I didn’t father her kid.”

Abby didn’t speak. Really, what was there to say? Flynn looked up at her as she sat huddled in the corner of the old swing seat, a thin, but soft blanket covering her knees—more as reassurance than for warmth.

“It doesn’t mean there aren’t other women out there,” Flynn said tightly. “It doesn’t mean there haven’t been mistakes. There might be children. I don’t know.”

Abby cleared her throat. “And if there are children?”

“Then I claim ownership. If I have kids, I want to be part of their lives. I don’t want to run from them, Abby.”

“They aren’t dogs, Flynn. You don’t own children.”

“You know what I mean. I wouldn’t turn my back on my kids, no matter how they came into being. This woman, though, she’s lying. Her kid doesn’t belong to me.”

“I know.” Abby let out a sigh. “Jena called and filled me in on the family meeting.”

Flynn looked more serious than she’d ever seen him. “I have a past. It’s not one I’m particularly proud of, it isn’t one I regret either. It just is. I know my past is never going to go away. There will always be fallout from the choices I’ve made. If not this woman, then another. I thought I was careful, but you just don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “It isn’t just the women. I was a he-slut. I get it. Those choices are bound to bite me in the arse. It’s the rest of it, too. My career options are limited because of how I behaved. The weasel over there is out to get me because he thinks I deserve it.” He laughed without mirth. “I probably do deserve it.”

Abby didn’t rush to reassure him. They were about the same age, and while she’d been worrying over the consequences of every decision she made, he’d been doing things without thought for the future. It was almost humorous. She’d grown up before her time, whereas he’d taken too long to grow up.

“I didn’t care,” Flynn said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t care about the future, or if anything I did affected anyone else.”

“And now you do?”

“I care what you think.”

She felt like she’d been hit by lightning. The swing swayed as she leaned towards him, wishing he was closer so she could pet him. The man called to her on a visceral level, making it difficult to shut him out.

“We all make mistakes,” she said. “We all have pasts that made us who we are now. It’s up to you whether you let your past dictate your future, or whether you learn from it and change.”

“You mean, stop screwing up and deal with the consequences like an adult. Be responsible. Be boring.” He ran a hand over his face. “I know. You’re right. I get it. But it sounds so bloody dull.”

“I can’t help you there. I only know how to be boring and responsible. I don’t know how to have fun while I’m being a grownup.”

His eyes sparkled in the low light coming from the kitchen. “Maybe we can help each other. You teach me to be responsible. I’ll teach you how to have fun.”

Everything inside of her jumped up and down with glee at the thought. She tried to squish the feeling, but it wouldn’t stay down.

“Sometimes I feel so very old for twenty-eight,” she confessed.

“Most days I barely feel like an adult. See, we’re a perfect fit.”

Abby couldn’t help laughing at him. “Only in your head, Flynn, only in your head.”

“My head is the only place that matters.”

“And that right there is why you keep getting into trouble.”

He got up on his knees and shuffled until he was kneeling between her thighs. She saw the wince when he manoeuvred on his injured leg and noted his weight was leaning heavily on his good leg. Silly man. He shouldn’t be kneeling at all. Flynn placed his hands on her thighs and stared into her eyes. The intrusion into her personal space was wonderfully intimate.

“I promised myself I’d keep away from you,” she said.