Page 6 of The Path to Loving Him
Bower:Come on, just do it. You know you want to.
Gabby:Not happening.
Bower:Chicken.
I grind my teeth together. Bower’s getting on my nerves. She knows me way too damn well to know I hate that term . . . chicken. I hate it with everything in me. Because I am anything but a chicken. I took risks my entire life. I’ve worked tirelessly to keep Bennett and me together—throughout foster care days and beyond.Even if it meant the foster care parents got the government payments without keeping Bennett. I’ve kept us alive. Fed. That took guts.
Strength.
I amnota chicken.
Gabby:Don’t call me that. You know better.
Bower:I know, I’m sorry. But come on, Gabby. You’ve always told me how hot he is. You’ll never see him again . . . ever. Might as well fulfill a fantasy for one night and then leave, head held high. Rock his world and leave him begging for so much more.
I move my lips back and forth. Well, when she puts it like that . . .
Chapter Two
RYLAND
I’m uncomfortable.
And the moment the bartender hands me my drink, I down it in one large gulp, the alcohol stinging all the way down my throat. When I set the glass down and turn toward Abel, I find him holding his drink halfway to his mouth, staring at me with a bewildered look.
“Do that again, and I’m not sure you’re going to get it up to even have some fun.”
I grab a napkin and wipe my mouth.
“Can you keep your fucking voice down?” I whisper.
“Sorry,” he whispers back. “Didn’t know you were so shy.”
“I’m not shy. I just . . . I don’t need people hearing my business.”
“You don’t want people knowing about the possible chance of a flaccid penis tonight?” he says in a controlled, low voice.
My eyes narrow at my friend. “There will be no flaccid penis.”
“Ah, so we’re expecting a full erection. How exciting.”
“Jesus fuck,” I mumble as I press my palm to my eye, trying to rub away the migraine that’s forming from his idiotic plan.
I don’t even know why I followed Abel here.
Pretty sure it wasn’t me that followed and more like my dick that did the walking.
Because fuck, it’s been a while.
A really long time and now that I’m already a few drinks in, I told Aubree I wasn’t driving home tonight because I don’t drink and drive, meaning she can take care of Mac while I can . . . well, I guess I have two choices. I can find someone to hook up with and get Abel off my case while simultaneously solving the issue of my pent-up tension. Or I can go home with Abel tonight, sleep on his couch, and regret going out the following morning.
“You look distressed. Should I get you another drink if you promise to drink it slowly?” Abel asks.
“Sure, and while you’re at it, can you order me a new friend as well?”
He presses his hand to his chest. “You know, when you say things like that, it really hurts.”
I roll my eyes just as there’s a tap on my shoulder.
