Page 18 of Don’t You Dare Marry Me (Love in Massachusetts #3)

thirteen

“We need to talk.” Abagail slapped some papers down on the kitchen counter, startling Nicola from the bowl of cereal that she was eating.

She’d convinced Cal to take her to the grocery store that day so she could get some junk food to snack on.

She still had Abagail’s credit card in her purse, and Abagail hadn’t asked for it back yet.

Nicola finished her bite of Fruit Loops and eyed Abagail over the counter, waiting to see what she would say next.

But there seemed to be judgement in her gaze.

“I tried to send you money today.”

Right. That was today. Nicola tensed at just the thought.

She needed that money immediately to get the rehabilitation facility off her back.

The only reason they hadn’t annoyed her the last few days was because Alanna was still in the hospital, though she was being transferred back tomorrow morning.

“But your account is frozen.”

Nicola’s brow furrowed. It shouldn’t be frozen. She’d left a whole eight pennies in there to make sure that she still had money so it wouldn’t get closed down or anything. She shoved a full spoonful of cereal between her lips and whipped out her phone.

She logged into her account, and sure enough, Abagail was right.

Everything was frozen. The savings account that had zero dollars in it, the checking account that was now at a negative balance.

What the hell had been taken out that she hadn’t thought about?

And the credit card that had maxed out its limit. Fuck, she was so screwed.

“I’ll figure it out,” Nicola muttered before popping another bite of cereal between her lips. This wasn’t anything she hadn’t dealt with before. She could just open up a new bank account to get those funds from Abagail. “I’ll let you know in the morning.”

Abagail’s lips pursed, the lines deep around them. “How am I supposed to pay you for your services if you don’t have an active bank account?”

“There are other ways to pay me,” Nicola mumbled.

She’d used those ways many times over the years, different websites to transfer money where she could hold it for a period of time before needing it in a bank account.

Abagail was probably too rich to even be aware of them.

She’d never need them, or she’d just have someone else do her dirty work for them.

Dirty.

That word rang through Nicola’s brain. She dropped her spoon into her bowl, suddenly losing her appetite.

This entire conversation was making her feel dirty.

She’d genuinely enjoyed the sex they’d had, and she’d mostly enjoyed the time they’d spent together—conversations like this aside—but that didn’t make what they were doing right, did it?

“What ways?” Abagail asked, coming closer and leaning against the counter, effectively blocking Nicola onto the stool she was sitting at, her side pressed into the marble.

“Different websites.” Nicola shook her head, already distracted by the strength in Abagail’s stance, in the confidence that moved from her into the world around her. Nicola would never have that. “I’ll check into the bank and have a solution for you in the morning.”

Abagail snagged Nicola’s chin, forcing Nicola to turn her head upward and look deep into Abagail’s eyes.

Her heart stuttered. Was there more there than simply being annoyed that she couldn’t pay her?

Nicola found herself leaning forward. Abagail’s hand dropped from her chin, sliding around the side of her neck to the back of her neck.

Nicola’s heart thudded wildly, the tension in her shoulders almost disappearing as she moved in and captured Abagail’s lips.

The kiss wasn’t heated, which surprised her.

But it was warm and comforting. Abagail had no idea what was going on in the back of Nicola’s mind, all the worries and stresses that she was facing, but that didn’t mean anything in this moment.

Abagail was concerned about her, about how she could be supported. Wasn’t she?

Abagail hummed, pressing in a little deeper. She curled her hand around Nicola’s side and pressed her palm fully against the middle of Nicola’s back and pulled her in so they were closer. Nicola’s eyes fluttered shut as she deepened the kiss.

She wasn’t mistaking this simple attraction for something else, was she?

Abagail had never said anything about feelings being involved or not, but Nicola was damn sure they weren’t supposed to be feeling anything for each other. At least nothing more than mere attraction and perhaps some kind of affection akin to friendship.

Abagail jerked back suddenly. She stepped out of the circle of Nicola’s grasp and reached for the envelopes she’d slapped down onto the counter earlier. Her face was drawn, her eyes narrowed. “I had a visit from Warren today.”

“Really?” Nicola squeaked out the word. “What the hell did he want?”

“The ring.” Abagail flicked her gaze toward Nicola.

“Oh.” Nicola’s heart sank. She’d tried her damnedest not to think about that ring.

She still felt the weight of it on her finger sometimes.

It wasn’t the ring itself that she didn’t want to be reminded of.

It was the fact that Warren was gone, that the relationship they’d spent years building had been ripped out from under her in one brief second and she’d never fully understood why he’d done it.

His explanation had been shit, and the reason that Abagail had hated her didn’t quite seem to fit anymore.

“I thought we were doing this for revenge.” Abagail was looking directly at her. “But you haven’t told him.”

No, she hadn’t. She hadn’t found the time to even mention it to Warren, mostly because she’d wanted to avoid him.

But there was something sacred about what she and Abagail were doing, and she wanted to keep that for herself.

It wasn’t just about revenge anymore—that much had been clear since the morning she’d woken up in Abagail’s house after their first night of romping.

Nicola took her bowl and moved toward the sink to dump what was left into the disposal.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Abagail asked, her tone a lot harsher and more demanding than it had been just minutes ago.

Was it the physical distance that did that?

“I haven’t talked to him.” Nicola rinsed out the bowl and set it in the dishwasher. “That’s why.”

“And the bank account?”

Nicola sighed harshly. “I told you, I’ll fix it or I’ll have an alternative solution to you by the morning.”

“That’s not the point,” Abagail snapped.

“Then what is the point?” Nicola threw her hands out to the side. The uncomfortable feeling that had taken root during that kiss—or rather as soon as it ended—grew even more. She hated it. It didn’t feel right. And that word bounced through her brain again.

Dirty.

This wasn’t right, was it? What they were doing?

They should stop it immediately. Nicola ran her sweaty palms over her thighs.

This was a bad idea. It had all been a mistake, because now she didn’t feel right about it.

She’d been drunk when she’d first fucked Abagail, and to be fair, it wasn’t the fucking that she regretted.

No.

It was this.

Whatever this was.

“The point is that you should have a working bank account. How are you supposed to pay for things if you don’t?” Abagail wouldn’t even look at her.

Nicola’s face pinched in confusion. “This is about my bank account? Jesus. Just write me a check or give me some cash. My bank account isn’t your business.”

Abagail sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling on the ends briefly before she turned on Nicola.

Their eyes locked in a battle for control and power.

Nicola would never win this one, she knew that.

In every scenario that involved the two of them, she would be the one to lose out.

And it’d be better for her to accept that now than later.

She was broke.

She had no home.

She was living in Abagail’s house only because she provided sex.

She had no job.

“You have to take care of yourself,” Abagail said with another sigh. “It’s important.”

“I do take care of myself, thank you.” Nicola’s voice was low, almost a growl.

She really didn’t want this to turn into a pissing match, but she wasn’t going to let Abagail insult her either.

She was fully aware of just how screwed up her life had become since the car accident that ruined every fucking thing possible.

She wasn’t the happy-go-lucky girl she used to be.

Nope.

Never again.

Abagail grunted and stared down at the letters in her hand again, but she didn’t look to actually be reading them. “You’re not taking care of yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Nicola said, her voice bursting through the room.

“You’re not.” Abagail looked up at her then. “Where do you live, Nicola?”

“I…” Nicola’s jaw dropped. “What does it even matter to you? I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your wife. You have no say over where I live or where I don’t live.”

Abagail’s lips thinned impossibly, disappearing into her mouth before they popped back up. “You’re homeless.”

“So what?” Nicola put her hands on her hips, anger rising in her chest and filling every empty space that was there before. “I don’t need a big empty house to satisfy my needs.”

Abagail guffawed, the sound ricocheting through the kitchen and straight into Nicola’s heart. Was she actually laughing at her?

“I don’t have a complex issue,” Nicola added under her breath.

“No, you have a money issue.” Abagail reached out, gripping onto Nicola’s wrist. Her fingers wrapped firmly around, painfully so, her nails biting into Nicola’s flesh. “You shouldn’t be in this situation.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t.” Nicola stared at her, that anger building more and more.

Warren had this same entitled attitude about him.

He’d hated the fact that Nicola had been broke and poor, that she’d struggled to make ends meet, and that she’d never been able to get ahead on her bills.

Never. “But it’s absolutely none of your business that I am. ”

Abagail’s lips parted like she was going to say something and then stopped herself.

“When will my car be ready?”

“It’s in the garage.” Abagail seemed taken aback by that.

Nicola twisted her wrist from Abagail’s grasp and took a step back. “Perfect. You won’t have to deal with my miserable life any longer.”

Stepping past Abagail, Nicola made to leave the room. She was stopped suddenly when Abagail grabbed her arm hard and twisted her back around, pushing her into the counter that they’d just been sucking face against.

“You don’t walk out on me,” Abagail threatened.

“I don’t?” Nicola was on fire tonight. She wasn’t going to let Abagail ruin her life or run it any more.

This had all been a mistake. The worst part of the mistake was letting her heart enter into the conversation when she’d repeatedly told it not to.

That wasn’t the purpose of their arrangement. “You don’t own me.”

Abagail staggered a step backward.

“Don’t mistake paying me to fuck you as ownership. Ever.” Nicola pushed her way beyond Abagail. “Don’t ever fucking think that I’m someone who can be controlled.”

Without another word, she stomped out of the kitchen. She went straight up to the room where she’d been staying, grabbed the clothes she’d shown up in and dropped Abagail’s credit card on the nightstand.

Fuck her.

Nicola was done.

She snagged her purse and stalked back down the stairs toward the garage. She was ready to be out of there. It was fun while it lasted but that was all this was. Nothing more.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Abagail’s voice rang down the hallway.

Nicola spun around, her hands clenching tightly. She shook her head, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Warren. If this was all for revenge, why didn’t you tell him?”

Nicola clenched her jaw hard, her heart racing.

She hadn’t told him. After that first night together, she’d known for a fact that this was more than mere revenge.

It may have started that way, but it quickly turned into something else.

Nicola had enjoyed herself too much to let Warren take that from her.

And she respected Abagail far too much to cheapen what they had by calling it revenge.

“I haven’t seen him or talked to him.”

“But why not?” Abagail walked closer, her shoes loud on the hardwood floors, forcing waves of impending danger to race through Nicola’s spine. This wasn’t good. “If that’s all this was.”

“It’s not…” Nicola’s voice broke, and her head was shaking before she could make it stop. “It’s not all this was.”

“No, it’s not.” Abagail was so close.

If Nicola gave in and moved beyond the anger, they could kiss. They could fuck. Nicola could push her against the wall and fuck her right here just like she’d done in the library but with a taste of victory in it all.

“I’m not yours to keep,” Nicola countered.

“I never said you were.” Abagail stared at her, hands in her pockets. She looked so calm right now. Nicola wished she could be in that space with her, but she didn’t want to be at the same time. “I just want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Nicola’s shoulders tightened, pulling her entire body together in the last burst of anger she could possibly hold within her. “I don’t need your money.” She spat the last word out with every ounce of force she had left, and then she turned on her heels and walked away.

She couldn’t stand there any longer.

She couldn’t allow herself to be belittled like that.

“But you do,” Abagail said, loudly and gently at the same time. None of the anger of their argument was there. None of the control. It was acceptance and understanding.

But Nicola refused to believe it.

She took the door directly to the garage and slid behind the wheel of her car.

Then she cursed when she realized the garage door was still closed and got back out to open it.

Fuck this life. She wasn’t built for it.

She should have realized that when she and Warren had broken up.

She was never going to be accepted into a world that she hadn’t been born into.

Screeching out of the garage and squealing her tires as she pulled onto the street. Nicola left. She was so damn good at that, wasn’t she?

Couldn’t she ever just make the right decision the first time?