Where Words Fail (22 page)

She tried to control the smile that was begging to be on her lips as she mumbled. “Maybe I like my mind in the gutter.”

I stifled a laugh and slid in front of her because I couldn’t say anything. I liked her mind in the gutter too. Pervy Abby was amazing!

Making sure she had the blindfold in place, I pulled her arms around me so she wouldn’t fall off. Her fingers splayed out across my abs and the tips of her fingers dug in. I had to force myself to breath and take off.

Making my way towards the lake I prayed that I got this right and didn’t bring up bad memories again. This surprise was something she always wanted to do when we were teenagers.

Once we arrived at the lake, I took the blindfold off Abby. I watched as her eyes roamed over everything that AJ and Jason had set up for us. It was perfect. My truck was backed down by the lake. The bed of it filled with blankets and pillows, and candles lined the edges of the dock.

Pulling her close, I wrapped my arms around her and buried my nose in her hair. I loved her scent. She hadn’t said anything since I pulled the blindfold off her eyes, and I was seriously doubting myself right now. Finally working up the courage to speak I moved so my lips rested against the shell of her ear.

“Did I get it right?”

“You remembered...” Her voice was small as she spoke. Her head shaking in disbelief.

“I remember everything about you. I just wish I could make up for the nine years we lost.”

“Hey Jameson?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I don’t want to forget about our past. We had something amazing, but.” Shit, she doesn’t want this after all. I try letting go and pulling back. Trying to protect myself but she stops me and spins in my arms. Her eyes pin me to the spot I’m standing in. “But... Can we start over. I mean I just don’t think we can pick up where we left off.”

My heart finally pulls itself out of my throat. I can breathe normally again and a smile spreads across my face. “Absolutely.” I held out my hand to shake hers and she took it, grinning. “I’m Jameson Williams. I promise to never lie to you so I want to tell you something. I’m totally in love with a redheaded rock star.”

Her laugh was a welcome sound to my ears. “Abby Irons... I promise to try not to run away when I’m scared.”

“That’s the best fucking promise I’ve heard in my life.”

She then continued. “Oh and I’m kinda in love with the guitar player of my band.”

“Damn, that lucky son of a bitch Derek.” She slapped at my chest while I laughed.

“Yeah... He is lucky I love him. But I’m not in love with him. Dance with me?”

I pushed away from her and turned the key in my truck back to accessory. Diamond Rio’s
One More Day
came blaring through the speakers. I smiled because I don’t think my luck was going to get any better than it is right now. Pulling her close, she laid her head against my chest, and I marveled at just how much shorter she was than me. Without heels, the top of her head barely met the middle of my chest, but she fit perfectly in my arms.

“I’m glad I finally listened to Alex. I just wish it had been sooner.”

“What do you mean, babe?”

“Remember the day we jumped in the puddles with Izzy?” I nodded. Watching Abby, soaking wet and smiling had been a great day. Until that night when Matt showed up. “Well, before when you were on the porch with Izzy talking...”

“Wait, you heard that?”

“Uh... Yeah... Anyway. Alex was with me and after he heard everything you guys were talking about, he pretty much told me I was stupid for still pushing you away. He reminded me that life didn’t last forever. I was coming to tell you that I wanted more that night... Until... Well, you know.”

“Yeah... I know. Was Alex upset that Izzy asked me that?”

“At first. Yes. Then he heard what you told her and I think it upped the amount of respect he has for you. What you told her was perfect. Thank you.”

I stopped dancing and kissed her. I poured all my feelings into that kiss. My love. My longing for her. How much I never wanted her to leave. All of it.

Abby

“Oh God Tuesday... Why did I agree to go to this thing with him?”

“Because,” she laughed. “You love him and still haven’t given it up to him... So you feel guilty. Seriously Abby, you guys have been dating for weeks. WEEKS! And you have yet to do anything other than make out and sleep. If you were my girl we’d have a problem.”

I laughed. Thank God for Tuesday. I’ve spent the last week trying to talk Jameson out of this damn class reunion but got absolutely nowhere. He was bound and determined to go. He keeps telling me it will be good to show everyone how far we’ve come since high school.

So I caved. It’s not at all that I want to make people think I am better than them. Or that I have more money. Because that’s not me. Other than when I’m on stage, I’d be happier in the background. I’m doing it because I love Jameson. It’s not even my class, it’s the people that were seniors when I was a freshman. The people that started my high school torture. Namely, Collin Mank. I should totally hate him, right? But I’m thinking maybe I should thank him, because without him, I never would have met Jameson that day.

That leaves me here. Sitting in front of the vanity in my bathroom while Tuesday primps me like a prostitute. I swear I’ve been here longer tonight than I usually am when I’m on stage or an award show. It’s crazy but she’s totally outdone herself, and I love her for it.

I had to do a double take when I turned around because I didn’t really recognize myself. She took her time with my hair, giving it soft waves that cascade and fall down to the middle of my back with the front left side pinned back. My eyes were smoky, making the green in them pop more than normal and the black halter dress she handed me should be illegal. I swear it shows off more skin than I know what to do with.

If I hadn’t known it was a black tie event and most of the women there will be dressed to the hilt, I’d probably feel out of place. Who makes a class reunion black tie anyway? Dress up in suits and glamorous dresses just to see people you haven’t seen in ten years.

My theory: If I wanted to see you, I would see you. It’s not going to take a get together to make me think I missed these people. I hated these people then, and I’ll hate them now.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not your girl, now isn’t it?” I laughed at her poor attempt to look mad before she started humping the air. Tuesday has the same dirty mind as I do. It’s one of the things that drew us together. “That boy is lucky I love him, because I despise the people we’re going to see.”

“Why do you hate them so much? I mean, everyone gets bullied during school. Why was yours so bad?”

“You know what my nickname was? WTG. White Trash Ginger. I hadn’t even been there two days before that name came out. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I could have fought back. But if I were to get in trouble, my ass was grass. They made my life hell and it got worse after Jameson left because everything went downhill.”

“Seriously? White trash ginger? That’s ridiculous. Well... Anyway whore muffin, you’ll wow them all tonight. If they have anything to say just stab them with your stiletto.”

I snorted, which made me laugh so hard I snorted again. “So what? I stab them with my shoe because they make fun of me. I wouldn’t just get kicked out of school, I’d probably get sued.”

“I doubt they’ll even recognize you. I mean, you’re Abby Irons now... Not Abigail Jenkins.” I glared at her for using my full name. But when I thought about it, she was right. I wasn’t that broken girl from high school anymore. If anyone recognizes me at all, it’ll be from the music not the hallways. “I get it Abs. I do. Just try to have a good time with your man. Careful though, he might want to rip that dress off you...”

Cocking my eyebrow at her through the mirror, I responded. “Maybe I'll let him. This dress makes me feel like a hooker anyway. Might as well spread my legs.”

“Hey! I spent a long time picking out this dress.” The smack to the back of my shoulder was followed by her pouting. She knew I was kidding though.

Her sulking was interrupted by Jameson hollering up the stairs that we were going to be late and Tuesday screaming back something about his panties being in a twist. She handed my shoes to me, and I slipped my feet into the silver peep toe stilettos. I’m a girl who would rather be in flip flops or barefoot, but I won’t lie and say I didn’t feel totally sexy while rocking a pair of Manolos.

I stood, straightened the black fabric and checked myself in the mirror. This dress, if you can even call it that, was totally open in the back. The top of the dress started just below the dimples on my back and fell about two inches under the bottom of my ass. My boobs looked amazing though. Its scoop neck dipped below the bottom of them, showing off my C’s quite well. If I moved wrong or bent over I’m sure either my ass will show or my chest will fall out. It showed off all my back tattoos and the script below the arches of my breasts and parts of my sides.

I eased my way down the stairs. My eyes drawing up the black slacks to Jameson’s amazing ass. I swear I could stare at it all day. He was bent over the counter talking to Izzy about something. His laugh carrying across the room. Izzy peered around him, eyes wide, as she giggled and told him to turn around.

“You’re pretty Aunnie Abby.”

“Thanks baby girl. Jameson, you look nice.”

Jameson stepped forwards after sliding Izzy off the counter and walked towards me. His eyes skimming over every surface of my body. Drawing me in, his arms wrapped around me, enveloping me in his scent. I slid my hands over the hard planes of his chest and around his neck. My fingers inching over the starched white dress shirt and deep silver tie.

Where my outfit shows most of my ink, his shows none. Every piece of Jameson’s custom art is covered.

“You look amazing... But I don’t think I can let you out of the house like that.” He whispered, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin under my ear making me shiver.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to spend the entire night fending off assholes trying to get you out of it... And wanting to take you home and strip it off you... Slowly and discover the rest of the ink I didn’t know you had.  Hell it’s taking everything in me not to haul you back upstairs.”

“Oh.” I felt the heat climbing up my skin. Jameson’s deep whisper is my undoing and I have no doubt that if there wasn’t a six year old in the room I would drop my soaking panties right now. Pulling myself together, I laughed and swatted his wandering hand away. “Well, if that’s all it takes to not have to go to this thing...”

“Oh no!” Tuesday chimed in. “I did not just spend all that time on you for you to back out now. Jameson, take your dirty pervy hands off her and get out of this house.”

                        
***

One hour and ten minutes with these stuck up snobs and I’ve been ready to leave since I put my name tag on. Jameson has yet to stop touching me, not that I’m complaining. Whether it’s his hand on my lower back, fingers entwined with mine or kissing different places of exposed skin, it wasn’t helping me want to stay here any longer. I wanted to go home and curl up under the blankets with him.

I’ve tried making small talk with some of the people here but usually end up falling flat on my face. Jameson, on the other hand, has been amazing. Introducing me to all his high school friends. Even though I had met most of them before, he thought I needed to be introduced as Abby, his girlfriend, because he knows how much I despise my full name. You would think since I spend the majority of my time doing interviews that I would be better at this whole small talk thing than I am, but I’m not. So he picks up the slack and hasn’t made anything awkward for me.

Mr. Beck approached us and asked us to sing a few songs. I agreed to one and Jameson said he would play one by himself but wouldn’t tell me what song. Just that it was for me. My nerves are now on high alert.

Nobody else has really recognized who I am. Abby Irons or Abigail Jenkins. I’ve had some lingering glances but I can’t figure out if it’s because of my dress, or lack thereof, or if they are trying to figure out who I am. It doesn’t matter as long as nobody calls me...

“WTG? No fucking way!” And there it is. The name that haunts me and makes me feel worthless. The first time Jameson steps away all night, and someone sweeps in for the kill. Makes me wonder how many of them knew but were saving it for when he wasn’t around. He was kind of intimidating in high school.