Chapter 23: The Night

Dad went to my aunt's with Colt and Shelby at ten.

He gave me a kiss on the forehead in the church lot and said, "Go on. I know where I'm sleeping."

I did not ask what he meant.

Abram's truck smelled of dog and coffee.

He drove with both hands on the wheel and did not say a word for six blocks.

"You're quiet," I said.

"I'm trying to remember my rule."

"You have a rule?"

"I gave myself a rule. Ninety days, and I said it again after Saturday."

"It's Saturday."

"It's Saturday night. Technically it isn't over until midnight."

"Abram."

"I want to be sure. You've had a very long day."

I put my hand on the back of his neck.

His whole body jumped.

"I slept on it," I said. "Last night. Nine hours. I'm rested, and I'm not angry, and I'm not tired, and I'm not doing this because of the party."

"Then why?"

"Because I want to."

He pulled into his driveway and cut the engine.

The porch light was on.

His old brown dog stood in the front window, barking.

Abram turned in his seat.

"Say it again."

"I want to."

"Louder."

"I want you, Abram."

He kissed me over the gearshift, hard, with his hand in my hair.

We got as far as the front hall.

He pushed me back against the door and kissed my throat while I got his jacket off his shoulders.

The dog wound himself around our ankles, complaining.

"Dog," Abram said into my skin.

"He can wait."

"He's going to judge us."

"He's going to judge us in the other room."

I shut the dog out of the bedroom, and Abram laughed so hard he had to sit on the edge of the bed.

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