Free A Long Time Coming by Heather Van Fleet Page A

Holy, freaking hell—this wasn’t good.
    “Abigail? Um, are you okay in
there?” The knock on the stall had her entire body jumping out of her skin. She
found herself flat on her ass only seconds later, leaning her head back against
the stall door. She sighed, wiping the wetness from her mouth with her
fingertips, her blonde hair sticking to the dampness of her neck and cheeks.
    Hell no, this wasn’t happening
to her. But she knew, without a doubt, that those two pink lines wouldn’t have
lied. 
    She moaned, lying once more,
“Ugh, I’ve been fighting something for a few days now, not sure what it is.”
She gulped, acid burned in her throat as she shut her eyes. Behind the darkness
of her lids, the room started to flash a neon yellow color, just as the
dizziness accompanied the darkness she was trying not to welcome.
    “Um, are you sure you’re okay
in there? That hit you like, really quick.”
    Abigail sighed, finally
standing up to unlock the door, praying the whole way that her shaking knees
would hold her upright. Her body was still sweating as she stepped in front of
the sink, and she shivered, slipping her shaking hand over the cold water knob.
The flow slowly dripped out, as she gathered a small amount of the liquid in
her palms to splash against her face. She didn’t bother looking over at Harley.
There was no point in accepting the sympathy that was burning across her best
friend’s face. And she certainly didn’t deserve the sympathy either because
Abigail knew exactly what was wrong. And it definitely wasn’t a stomach bug
creeping up on her.
    It’d been eight weeks and
three days since that night she’d spent in the back of her sports car with
David. Eight weeks since they’d gotten drunk on her dad’s vodka to celebrate
his new leg… And eight weeks since they’d finally given in to the emotions and
physical desires David had always been adamant to fight against.
    She reached for a paper towel,
closing her eyes as she pressed the scratchy, brown material down the front of
her face. She blew out a shaky breath, remembering everything about that night,
like it had happened only days ago. Remembering how she was the one who
had climbed on top of him . How she was the one begging him to give in to their mutual desires. Remembering how she’d cried like a psycho
maniac when he’d tried to push her away, denying her and her needs. Remembering
how she’d kissed him first. Remembering his answering groan that she’d
quickly swallowed with her mouth, and then her tongue. Remembering the way his
powerful hands had slipped her shirt off in one, quick, frantic movement…how
his eyes bored into hers with so much intensity, and soulful love, that she’d
become completely lost in them, forgetting everything else in that
moment…including protection.
    Remembering rough fingers,
smooth lips, hot breath…remembering how it had felt just as their bodies
connected. How she’d nuzzled her face into his neck, inhaling his warm skin as
he kissed her face, and touched, and pulled and pushed against her… She grinned
to herself, remembering how they hadn’t even bothered with his shirt or her
shoes for that matter. The only thing that had mattered was the fact
that he’d finally accepted her, finally accepted them …at least that’s
what she had hoped was happening.
    But then when they’d woken up
in a tangle of limbs the next morning, she realized by the stiff ramrod state
of his body as she kissed his neck, that he’d regretted what had happened
between them after all. Neither of them spoke on their way home. Neither of
them seemed to breathe either. And that had been the last time they’d spoken,
or really seen each other…until the party.
    “Um, you okay over there?”
Harley’s warm hand pressed lightly against Abigail’s forearm, causing her to
jump. She stared down at her best friend’s fingers, but didn’t meet her eyes,
at least not right away. She was terrified that Harley would see