Leaning on the massive oak bar surrounded by glass hutches, Echo, Beth, and Haley laugh at something Ethan says causing their guys to glance over at the group. The three girls are giving Ethan dating advice. I’ve snorted at over half of it, thinking it sounds insane, but I’d bet girls know better than me what another girl is looking for in a good first date.

A real first date... I pause. I need to take Abby out on one of those. Guess I should start taking notes.

The game on the TV continues, but I don’t miss how Noah’s gaze lingers on Echo. She’s been studying art in Colorado since late August. Noah and I have gotten to know each other better over the past few months. Both of us missing the girls we love.

But Echo is back in town for the Christmas break and the two of them have plans to be married when they graduate from college in two years, and Abby is back in the real world with me. Life has a way of working out.

Abby finishes her food, sets the empty plate on the table, and then scoots closer to me, easing her legs over my lap. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her since she walked in. It’s Abby. Her chestnut hair is longer, her hazel eyes a bit more hesitant, she’s lost some weight, looks like she could sleep for a year, but it’s her. Still gorgeous. Still dangerous. Still Abby.

It’s like she’s a dream and I’m scared to move too quickly or say too much or then she’ll vanish.

“Not really sure what the make-out rule is here,” she admits.

We both look over to the other side of the basement where Isaiah is on another couch with Rachel wrapped around him. Lights are off in that direction and I’d bet their kissing.

“Seems rather loose,” I say.

“All the same,” she says. “I don’t want to mess this one up.”

“You okay if I hold you?” I ask.

Abby releases that heart-stopping smile and slides until she fits perfectly onto my lap. But the moment she settles into me, she jumps and I grab hold of her before she can retreat. I know what she’s thinking, have an idea of what she might have felt.

I permit her to edge away just enough so I can pull up my shirt and expose the pump strapped to my stomach. It’s a few weeks old to me, but other than through email, new to her.

Abby delicately brushes her fingertips against the skin near the insulin pump. “Does it hurt?”

I shake my head, but her touch is burning me up. Going from a few months of not touching her at all to having her scent surrounding me and her warmth teasing me might kill me.

“Did it hurt when they did the procedure?” she asks.

“No.”

“Do you like it?” Abby’s forehead furrows as she studies the buttons, the screen, and then the tube that connects the pump to inside my body. Abby’s aware this was a tough choice for me and I can tell she’s trying to be careful with the conversation and her exploration.

“Some days yes. Some days no. More days I like it than not.”

“Fair enough.” Abby’s caress leaves the general area of my insulin pump and wanders to my chest.

“What happened to playing it safe?” I ask.

She laughs. “You’re the one that lifted your shirt.”

I lower it, she scowls, and I kiss her lips. Not long, but long enough that I miss her taste when I pull away. Long enough that I’m already thinking of kissing her again.

Her eyebrows rise and that mischievous glint that I’ve missed lights up in her eyes. “What happens to the pump when we make out? Like when we ditch here and we can seriously kiss like we’re supposed to?”

Those words hit me straight like a defibrillator and conjure up images of my hands on Abby’s skin. “If it gets in the way, I can remove it.”

“Is that hard to do?” she asks.

“No. Can do it now if you want.”

“Will that mess up your insulin?”

“Could.”

“Then no.” Abby sags and it’s not in a bad way. It’s the way that says the turkey just caught up to her. Possibly the past six months have caught up to her. “Will you take me to see my Grams?”

First place I planned on taking her was the cemetery. Figured that’s where she’d want to go. “Yeah.”

Abby flexes her socked toes then meets my eyes. “Do you mind if I go to sleep?”

I go to move so she can head upstairs, but Abby places a hand on my arm. “I mean with you. Do you mind if I fall asleep on you?”

Kissing Abby is heaven. Knowing we’ll be very alone soon is even better, but so is knowing that she’s here with me and I can hold her while she sleeps. Be the first person she sees when she opens her eyes. Life is how it’s supposed to be.

I kick off my shoes, lie on the couch, stretch out my arms and hug Abby tight to me as she cuddles in, closes her eyes, and drifts off to sleep.