Over the next few weeks, working and not, I spend more time with Abby. She takes to firing guns and enjoys it. Three weeks after we agree to committing ourselves to each other–in our own way, I decide to take Abby somewhere special, somewhere I haven’t taken anyone or gone on my own.
It’s a place within our territory, but a place I never went. I didn’t want to take the risk of getting hurt, plus who has time to ride mini rollercoasters and rides on a pier. There was never any reason to spend time there when I could be patrolling and taking care of the mafia business.
Luckily, we’re in a lull–other chapters aren’t bothering us and the cartel is behaving so why not take advantage of that and treat Abby to something now that she’s taking weekends off and trying not to work more than ten hours a day?
I show up at her door Saturday evening and knock twice. She opens the door wearing shorts and a cute top that ties under her tits, revealing plenty of cleavage. If there’s a Ferris Wheel, I can’t be sure I won’t pay someone to leave it for ten minutes so I can take advantage of her outfit.
“You should wear skirts more,” I hum, not sure if I’m talking to Abby or myself.
“Hmm?” she asks as she locks the door.
I jerk her against me and kiss her, dragging it out until she fists my shirt in her hand. It’s my favorite response. Like she can’t get enough, doesn’t want to miss out on a thing. I nip her bottom lip and press her back against the wall. She rubs my sides and I draw back, giving her a naughty smile.
“I bet we could get away with some naughty stuff right here,” I tease in her ear. “Who needs a date when we can do that?”
She giggles, her eyes squinting. “You’re determined to make all my neighbors hate me, aren’t you?”
“Oh? Is that what I’m doing or is that just a consequence of making you come every single time I’m with you?” I ask.
She blushes and shoves at me. “You’re so terrible.”
“Then I’ll stop with the orgasms. Got it,”
“No! I just mean-”
“Either you’re fishing for me to use ball gags or you’re going to use your neighbors hating you as an excuse to move in with me,” I chuckle as I lead her down the stairs. “It’s not the worst reason.”
Abby doesn’t sass me or answer until we’re standing by my car. She’s staring at me with her lips parted. We stare at each other and I clear my throat. “What is it?”
“You want me to move in with you?”
“I was ...” Was I joking? I feel like I’ve started saying more than I mean when it comes to Abby. Like I can’t control what comes out of my mouth when I’m around her. I clear my throat and squeeze her wrist. “Maybe?”
“Oh,” she breathes.
I open the car door for her and she slides in. When she doesn’t reach for the seatbelt, I reach in and pull it across her chest, letting my fingers trail over her cleavage. “Does that scare you, cupcake?”
“Maybe,” she breathes.
I shut the door, trying not to slam it since she’s mentioned she doesn’t like that. I get in and put the key in the car, but pause before pulling out. “You know where I keep my gun and my knife at all times. I know where you keep your “swinging skillet”. We’re celebrating your birthday tonight. We’ve been together for over a month ... how long do couples wait before they move in?”
Abby shrugs. “I don’t know. Aaron kind of moved in because his lease with his last roommate was up and then I left him and paid to break the lease before moving into my place. I do need to resign in a month.”
I let that sizzle between us on the way to the pier. When I park, I walk around to open the door, but jump out of the way before Abby hits me with it. I snort. “You never let me be a gentleman.”
“You are one without opening doors,” she says as if it’s simple. “Give me time to think about the moving in question?”
“Sure, it was one of those thoughts that got a little too serious too fast, so there’s no pressure,” I answer with an easy smile.
“I bet your place is spider free, though,” she teases me.
I narrow my eyes at her. “We’re not reliving that.”
“Considering you had to replace my alarm clock because you threw it at the spider, I agree,” she squeezes my hand. “What are we doing here?”
“You’re a closeted thrill seeker, so I decided to see how much of a thrill you can handle,” I motion to the lit up pier. “There’s plenty of food, too.”
Her eyes sparkle, catching the light, and she moves closer to me. “I haven’t been here since I was fourteen!”
With that, she drags me to the pier. I let Abby show off her excitement, dragging me from place to place, until she pauses and bites her lip, looking up at me. “I’m being too much, aren’t I?”
“You’re never too much, Zhizn moya,” I promise, kissing her temple. “It’s a date. If you weren’t this excited, I’d worry that I didn’t choose a good option for us.”
She stands on her toes and kisses me, holding me in place as she teases me with her tongue. “Good, because I’m going to kick your butt in Skee-ball.”
“Sure you are,” I wink.
Abby does kick my ass ruthlessly. She bounces and giggles, but we keep playing arcade games, piling tickets together until I can buy some silly mood ring that would have been cheaper to get online. I pocket it, since Abby’s already run off.
If I hadn’t insisted that she keep a taser in her purse, I’d be frustrated with her. I might be over protective after everything, but I don’t care much about that. I’m in the Mafia, she knows that, and she knows that people have seen us together.
How silly of me to think that wasn’t a kind of commitment back when it first happened. We end up on a few rides, sharing cotton candy even though I hate how sticky it is and how overly-sweet it tastes.
It’s an amazing night. Even just walking around with other normal couples and people would be more than enough with Abby. She leans against me, rubbing my belly. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay after the scrambler?”
“My stomach is made of steel. It doesn’t matter how nauseous I get,” I say with pride.
“Sure,” she pats my stomach until I wince. “So you want to go find some fried food to eat?”
“I’d rather kiss you or ...”
Her cheeks flair pink, proving I can make her blush. I squeeze her hand and lead her to an empty bench. “What else do you want to do?”
“You keep letting me choose. It’s making me anxious. What do you want to do?” she insists.
“I’m with you doing something I’ve wanted to do for years. That’s more than enough ... but we are ending with the Ferris wheel,” I point out.
“Then it sounds like we should go on the slingshot,” she says as she points at a ride.
A second later, people connected to Bungie cords or something are shot into the air and left to drop, bounce, and just fall. My stomach falls into my ass just watching them. I take a slow breath. “You trust that?”
“More than I trust you leaving for work and coming back in one piece.”
She’d been frustrated when I refused to go to the hospital again and came to her bleeding enough to need to use her hair straightener. I did replace it with the best model that Stephanie recommended.
“If it’s a no, that’s fine. I’m not your brothers. I will not make you feel bad,” Abby assures me. “No, is okay.”
I meet her eyes, still blown away by how sweet she is. She could ruin me with my brothers–saying I’m afraid of spiders, clowns, and stupid rides that are almost always fine. Still, I trust her not to. Abby has never made me feel less than when I tell her how I’m feeling, what I’m afraid of, what I enjoy.
Hell, I was so proud I made cookies from scratch for her that Ed gave me shit for sounding ‘smiley’ when he called me over the phone. Abby’s not like that, though. She’s warm and accepting. Her teasing is always gentle, makes me feel seen rather than humiliated.
“Let’s go,” I decide.
“What? No, Danya, you don’t have to do this for me. It’s not fun unless we both enjoy it.”
“Let’s start with the coaster then,” I suggest.
We do just that. Abby holds onto me and screams along with everyone else. I smile at her and enjoy the ride. It’s a nice adrenaline high that I’m going to use to get on the stupid “slingshot”. When we get in line, she bounces.
“I’m excited about this. I’ve seen plenty around, you know. I tried to get my parents to go with me, friends in high school, but everyone called me crazy and said I should go alone,” she admits. “It’s one of those rides I don’t want to do with a stranger.”
“First time together,” I say.
She blinks a few times. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Is this the first time we’re both doing something we haven’t done before? I’ve shared plenty of the things I like with you and you’ve done that with me, but...“
I kiss her and cup the back of her neck in my hand, not caring that whoever’s behind us is clearing their throat since we’re not moving forward right away. When I draw back, I tug Abby forward.
Eventually we’re strapped into the ride and I grip Abby’s hand so tightly, I’m worried I’m going to break her. She doesn’t shake me off, doesn’t tell me to stop, she just holds on, squeezing my hand while taking a deep breath.
“It’ll be even more of a rush than the coaster,” she promises.
Before I can answer, we’re shot into the air. I let out a yell as Abby does the same. I turn to watch her, unwilling to stare at the sky or the ground, just wanting to see her. Her smile is far too big, her eyes squinted as she yells and laughs.
In less than a minute, the ride is over, but I’m still staring at her. Her flushed face, her gorgeous blonde hair a mess, her brown eyes on me, reflecting the stars or the lights of the rides or whatever they’re catching.
I love her. How can I not?
She’s fierce, handles everything in my life with a kind of grace that I can’t fathom, all while still being warm and sweet until she has to be something else. We have plenty to take on in our relationship–her meeting my father; me meeting her parents–and more to figure out, but right now, in this exact moment, it takes every bit of control to keep the words from falling out of my mouth.
“And on to the Ferris wheel?” she guesses as we escape the restraints of the ride.
“We’re going to be doing a lot more than looking at the scenery,” I warn her with a smile, not sure how else to process what I’m feeling.
“I figured that, since we’re going to be alone,” she says with a wink, dragging me toward the last ride like an eager little kid.