Page 10 of Ready, Willing and Abel (Dog Tags #6)

chapter

ten

Esme

Abel cleaned us both up and got us some water to hydrate ‘before our next round’ he said. My head is on his chest, and we’re snuggled up, still naked, but cleaned up. His fingers trace light circles on my back and hip.

This feels so real. Like it means something to him the way it does to me.

“Did you mean what you said at the restaurant?”

“Emphatically. Those were the best fried shrimp I’ve ever had,” I say.

The rumble of his laugh vibrates beneath my ear. “I meant about having a crush on me?”

“You really wanna know?” I ask.

“I think I do.”

Kissing him lightly on his chest, I stand from the bed and walk over to my closet door.

I’ve never been shy about my body. I’m thick.

I have curves. I have fat and rolls and other parts some might deem imperfect, but they’re as much a part of me as my brown hair.

My body is strong, and it lets me do the physical work that keeps what’s left of this little farm running.

I open the door, then lean inside to pull the chain and turn on the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. There, on the back of the door, is the faded poster from his last season in Oliver’s Twist .

He sits up on the bed. “You were serious?”

“Oh yes. Very.” This should probably be embarrassing, but somehow it feels like the perfect thing to discuss. I’m still kind of shocked about his virginity confession. The next step in our—dare I hope—relationship?

“You were my first crush. Saw every episode of the show at least three times. I read every interview. And eventually it wasn’t Oliver I had a crush on, but you. At least the you I conjured in my mind.

“Every night before bed, I’d come kiss your poster goodnight like a giant dork. I doodled my name with yours on all of my notebooks at school. Abel and Esme. Abel loves Esme. Esme Cartwright. So yeah, big time crush.”

“Even when I looked like that?”

I stare at the poster, then look back at him.

“Same stunning grey eyes. Same sweet smile. Your hair is shorter now, and you’re obviously taller.

” I turn and face him. “I know people probably made you feel like you couldn’t keep acting with extra weight on your body.

And whoa, you are off the charts hot now.

But I still see a bit of that boy when I look at you.

My heart still pounds in my ears when you smile. ”

I’m pretty sure I love him, but I don’t dare say that. No doubt he hears that a hundred times a day. Girls sliding into his DM’s, sending him nude photos, tossing their panties at him at movie premieres. He’s got to be inundated with people always wanting his attention.

“Can I make another confession?” he asks.

My heart thunders waiting for his words. I nod.

“I have a crush on Esme Morales.”

I smile so big, it makes my cheeks hurt. “Oh yeah?”

“Definitely.” He kisses my forehead and I think my ovaries melt.

I yawn, and it makes him laugh.

“Sleep, beautiful. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Except he isn’t there when I wake up. The bed is cold next to me. My stomach knots and my heart feels like it folds in on itself.

But I refuse to think the worst.

At least not yet.

I take a quick shower, then get dressed for the day. When I reach my kitchen, I smile at the mason jar of daisies sitting on my little table.

There’s a note stuck to the fridge using a magnet from Bolts Hardware Store.

E,

I had to go take care of something.

Do me a favor and stay off the internet today.

Talk soon.

A.

I flip the note over. That’s it. He was like a damned poet last night with his sweet and tender words, and today it’s stay off the internet?

ME: 9-1-1-!

ME: My house. Now.

MIA: Already on my way.

ME: Already?

MIA: Just figured you might need me this morning.

Shit. That doesn’t sound good.