Summer Ever After

“Roman, that’s exactly what love is.”

“It’s like a sickness. The fucking flu.” I flick through the mail on my counter, tossing most of the junk.

“Now who is being dramatic?” Clucking, Maddie goes about my kitchen doing her thing.

“It sucks; that’s all I know,” I say, grumping, and grabbing a fork to dig into my pie. The heavy ceramic plate is like a brick of happiness-laden calories. My mouth waters with the chocolate and caramel pecan goodness awaiting me in the oatmeal cookie crust.

Maddie slaps my hand before I can stick my fork into the pie. “Being miserable doesn’t give you carte blanche to eat like a Neanderthal.” Shaking her head, she opens a drawer, pulling out a pie cutter I didn’t know I even owned.

“Huh. Did you sneak this into my kitchen?” I pick up the pie cutter, examining the foreign kitchen utensil.

Smirking, she looks me over. “No, Roman, the calorie elves did. You want to keep your trim figure for your fancy girl in LA, don’t you?” Teasing me, she pinches the taut skin of my abs through my T-shirt.

“Oww,” I complain, rubbing my abused stomach. “Abby loves me just the way I am.” I cut myself an extra-large piece of pie and wonder where I put my pair of sneakers somewhere in the house. A run on the beach before I drive to LA might be needed, you know… to clear my head and all.

“Exactly, my dear. Sleep well, Roman.” Maddie pats my cheek affectionately and kisses me before leaving. “Come on, Bella. I’ve got to call Darrell to come pick you up, you hussy.” Bella lifts her head from the floor, whining before following Maddie out of my house and along the rocky path back to her own. Just one more day until I see her. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to sleep tonight. I look back over to the pie, fantasizing about the rich treat. The only thing better than pie would be an entirely different sort of treat that only my girl could give me, but not tonight. Sighing deeply, I shake the thoughts off and cup myself, hoping to calm the physical response. I will seriously never get to sleep now with thoughts like this coupled with the sugar coursing through my veins from the decadent pie.

* * * * *

Morning proves to be a slight balm. I wake before the sun is up and grabbed a pair of sweats left in my dresser drawer. Sneakers are in my closet, luckily, so I grab them, making my way outside to the beach. The tide is low this morning as I run close to the water’s edge, sand slapping against the soles of my sneakers with each step on the wet, hard-packed surface. I likely won’t be back in Gold Beach for a while if I’m taking care of Abby in LA. Luckily, my business can be run just about anywhere I am with a few exceptions needing my personal attention. I plan to just fly home for those things and then back to be where Abby needs me most.

Frothy waves push against the sand grains, gaining ground on the beach, but don’t hinder my stride. I let myself cover three solid miles up the beach as the sun crests the ocean skyline. Oranges and early morning golds catch reflections off clouds on the surface of the water. Heading back to my house, pushing harder, I need this to ground me as Abby tests my resolve. My hope is the girl who let me in to get to know her is still there. None of this will be real if she becomes some flashy version corrupted by work and superficial influences. I make quick work of things in the shower before packing up some of Maddie’s food in a cooler to bring with me. I’m not leaving a half-eaten turtle pie alone in my fridge to die a cold death.

Maddie leaves Abby’s car keys on her counter, so I jog over to the house is an easy trip, grabbing her car and driving it back to get my things. Packing is easy, another duffle bag and then I set out on the road. I’ve never actually been to LA before, so I don’t know what to expect driving down the coastal highway watching the landscape slowly change. It’s interesting to find myself sitting inside Abby’s car taking the route back that she had originally taken to meet me. I have hours of driving to think non-stop before the city looms before me. I haven’t bothered to text or call Abby, because I want to surprise her. Our past phone conversations ha

ven’t been the best and we need to remedy that quick.

I don’t drive straight to Abby’s condo like I originally planned. Vinnie keeps me up to date on where she is, not because I’m a creepy boyfriend. I just feel better knowing what kind of long hours she’s pulling between work and taking care of her sister.

I know she is working today at her dad’s office before visiting her sister as she does daily. Knowing she’s there and hurting emotionally gives me a sense of her frame of mind when I call her at night. I want to get a lay of the land first, scope out my competition, although really there is none that I’m going to allow to get between us. I drive past her dad’s office building. It’s as pretentious as I figured it would be. Next I drive past her sister’s condo. It’s just as pretentious, but has an element of cool detachment, which is how Abby described Leah from the beginning.

I park the car across the street and watch Vinnie pull up to the curb. He waits for Abby to exit her sister’s condo and I watch their heartfelt exchange, along with Lucas, the douche-canoe, say goodbye to her. Her arms are loaded with her briefcase and files she carries to the car. A tired expression mars her beautiful face and I feel guilt waiting to take her in my arms to relive her of her burdens just yet. Vinnie helps her in and drives toward her condo. I followed them at a sedate pace when my phone chimes with a text.

Vinnie: Sir, would like me to pull over so you may collect your precious cargo?

Vinnie has an eloquent way with words given he was an ex-boxer and bodyguard from Chicago with a past drug and alcohol addiction.

No, but if you text me again while driving, I might have to let you go.?

Vinnie doesn’t reply and I’m grateful he’s keeping an eye on the road. I stop the car up the street from where her condo is and wait for Abby to get inside before meeting Vinnie on the curb.

“Mr. Winters.” Vinnie nods and I shake his hand. “It’s been a pleasure driving Miss Abby.”

“Thank you for taking care of her. I’ll make sure a bonus is deposited into your account tomorrow.” I’m grateful I was able to make sure she was taken care of in our temporary separation.

“She’s a special girl. Take care now, and if you ever need my services again, you can always reach me at my number.” Vinnie drives off in his car and I walk up to her door, nervous as hell. She is more than just a special girl. She’s the woman I’ve been pining for weeks to see again. I leave everything in my car, even the remaining Turtle pie because she’s that much more important. I’ll be back for that later.

Ringing her doorbell, I hear her inside. “Just a minute.” I cover the peephole with my hand because I’m still a little bit of a jerk, and she opens the door a crack. “Who…?” Her tentative voice changes the moment her recognition clicks.

“Special delivery.” I jingle her car keys in front of the door crack before she sees me. I watch her eyes grow big and she shuts the door, squealing and scrambling to get it open. I can tell she fumbles the lock a few times when I hear an indelicate curse through the door, which makes me laugh.

“Oh, my god! Roman, you’re here!” Abby jumps up into my arms like a tree-hugging monkey. Her affection is as desperate as mine.

“I told you I was always with you, Hollywood.” I hold her in my arms, walking her back into the house and kicking the door shut with my foot.

“Shut up and kiss me. God, I’ve missed you so much.” Abby grabs me by my hair and starts kissing me all over. My hands are occupied cupping her ass and I’m holding her tightly as I take in the braless tank top and long sleep pants with pink flowers on them. A cute pink matching bandana covers most of her hair. I want to take it off, but my hands are occupied elsewhere. I want to pull her pants down her legs and take her, but she’s got other ideas, mauling my mouth with her delicious lips.

“Abby,” I say between peppered kisses and bites. “Abby.” I swing our bodies around and fiddle with the door until I’m satisfied it’s locked and bolted, even though her neighborhood looks nice, I’m not about to invite strangers inside. I walk with her legs wrapped around me until we’re bumping into walls, each bruise worth the bang. I drop her keys on a table somewhere, smacking my hip on the corner. Abby whacks her elbow and shoulder on the wall, grunting unladylike expletives, and I’m pretty sure we’re both going to have purple marks everywhere by tomorrow.