“If you weren’t injured right now, I would have a lot to say about this.”
“A busted arm never stopped you, did it?”
He glances down at my bandaged forearm. “I guess we kind of match now.”
“It’s very cute of us.”
“The cutest.”
I beam up at him as I wind my good arm around his neck, pulling his mouth down to mine. He makes a soft sound when our lips meet, and I feel his hand curve around my hip, his fingersdipping under the hem of my ruined sweater to tease the soft skin there.
“Fuck, Abby,” he breathes. “I really thought I was going to lose you.”
“I really thought I might have let you there for a second.”
“You have to know everything I said yesterday was bullshit. I was just so scared. I was hurting and panicking and I took everything out on you. Can you forgive me?”
“If you can forgive me for leaving you when you needed me,” I tell him.
“We can call it even,” he answers with a smile.
I glance down shyly then, clearing my throat. “I also told my dad not to contact me anymore today.”
“What?” His brows shoot up. “When?”
“Just before the bike clipped me. That’s probably why I wasn’t paying attention.”
“And how did that go?”
“About as well as you’d expect,” I tell him. “He had a lot of shit to say, but I hung up on him. I told him I was blocking his number and that I would get a restraining order if he contacted me again.”
“Abby,” Jack sighs, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m so proud of you.”
“It took me long enough,” I grumble.
Jack shakes his head when he pulls away. “It doesn’t matter how long it took you. Youdidit. That’s all that matters. You did it all on your own.”
“I guess I did,” I admit quietly. “But I couldn’t have done it if I didn’t have you. Not really.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he says.
“You didn’t have to. Just knowing I had something better outthere waiting for me gave me the courage to finally say goodbye to that part of my life. You made me realize that maybe Iamworth more than what I’ve been allowing myself to have.”
“You’re wortheverything,” he assures me. “You deserve every good thing this life has to offer. I just hope that I can be a part of that.”
“I really want you to be,” I tell him softly.
He grins at me—a slow, lazy sort of smile that radiates warmth and happiness and all the good things I’m starting to think I deserve. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulls me in again to slant his mouth across mine, his tongue touching my lower lip, seeking entry. I let my lips part until it slides past to tangle with mine, humming softly into his mouth as I try to press my body closer, climbing into his lap, needing to be as close as I possibly can be after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“It’s killing me not to touch you right now,” he mumbles against my lips.
I nip at his. “Who says you can’t touch me?”
“You’re hurt.”
“So are you.”