Summer's Loss

Chapter 15

Abigail

Her uncle was very drunk. He was stumbling to get out of his seat and she had a growing concern about the almost hour long drive to get home in the dark. She looked around the table desperately. Jose had left and she hadn't even noticed, Jared lived here in town and had planned on his wife picking him up. That left her, her uncle and Brice.

"Abby you should," He hiccuped, "you should drive hun." She stopped where she was.

"What? Uncle Tom I don't know the way home from here." She stuttered.

"I can, I'll give you directions, it'll be fine." He looked half asleep where he was standing. She knew the moment he got in the truck he'd be out like a light.

"Abigail," It was Brice who spoke up, now standing next to her, "do you know the address? You can put it in your phone."

"I thought about it, but," she held up her phone and pressed the home button. Nothing happened. "The battery is dead."

"Shit." Brice let out under his breath. He stepped towards her uncle but his foot caught on the leg of her chair and he stumbled, barley catching himself on the table.

"Brice are you sure your ok to drive?" Abigail asked, concerned for him now too.

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm good." He smiled and waved a dismissive hand. But she had seen how much he drank and knew that he was not.

"You should call Annie to pick you up." She suggested. He shook his head and waved a hand again.

"She's out of town, family stuff." He slurred.

Who lets them go out alone she said to herself. "Ok well I have an idea. Brice you're riding with us, I'm driving. You can stay on the couch. I need your directions plus you definitely can't drive the way you are now. We can give you a ride to your car tomorrow morning."

Brice only stared at her for a long moment. He was almost perfectly still besides the occasional sway. There was that intensity in his eyes again. Except this time it was like there was something uncapped in it. Something he couldn't or didn't have the will to hold back right now. Her stomach flipped at the feeling it gave her.

"Ok." Was all he said.
~
It was dark and they didn't pass many cars on the drive. Just like she thought, her uncle passed out in the passenger seat. Next to her, Brice had squeezed into the middle of the bench seat, his leg was pressed against hers and his hands were held together in his lap.

He gave her directions to Tom's well enough for a drunk man and managed to stay awake the whole drive. It was almost 11pm by the time they got back to the house. Brice helped Abigail wake up her uncle enough to get him inside and in his bed, where he prominently passed out once again. She shut the door to his room the walked to the living room closet where she remembered her uncle mentioning blankets there before.  She pulled out an old quilt and walked to set it on the couch. 

"Let me get you a pillow, I have an extra one in my room and I didn't see one in the closet."  She made to go down the short hallway. Brice stood by the hallway entrance and she had to walk particularly close to get past him.  She could almost feel heat radiating off him as she went. 

She slipped into her room and headed straight for the bed to grab one of her many pillows.  Behind her she heard a rustle that made her turn. Brice stood leaned against the doorframe. His figure took up the entirety of the area.  His gaze wandered the bare room with clothes half unpacked laying around. Her unmade bed and unkept room caused her to feel self conscious.  The only light on was her bedside lamp, casting shadows across the wall.

"Here," she stood and walked across the room to give him the pillow, "I just washed the pillow case for this one the other day so it's pretty clean." He took the pillow but his eyes never left her.

She stood awkwardly in front of him waiting for him to say something but he just looked at her. "What?" She finally asked.

"You." Was all he said. He cocked his head to the side so it rested against the doorframe. "You're something else, you know that?" He reached up and flicked his thumb across her chin.

Heat rose to her face at his touch, like wildfire in a field of dry grass it spread all throughout her body. She froze, unable to look away from him. "You should go lay down, it's late." She whispered, as her eyes drifted down his face.

"I don't want to yet." He said, taking another step closer to her. He was only inches away from her now. She could smell the alcohol on his breath but beneath it was the scent of oak and pine. "Even if I did, I wouldn't get any sleep." He swept his knuckles against her cheek. His hands were rough against her skin but his touch was light and gentle. "You're always in my head. Even when you're gone all I see is you. All I think about." His words were so quiet now even she could barley hear him, even with their close proximity. His eyes weren't meeting hers anymore, instead they were locked on her mouth, it was slightly open, just enough for her to breath from it. Lord knew she needed all the air she could get right now to sustain the erratic beat of her heart.

"Brice," she whispered, her voice didn't even sound like her own, what was he saying right now? None of it made sense, "you're drunk, you should go lay down." Something inside her was screaming the exact opposite and it startled her to realize she wished she had the courage to follow that voice.

His eyes slowly, achingly slowly, slid back up to hers. There was a fire in them that she'd never seen in anyone before. A need that she was intimidated by, but curious of at the same time.

"Let me help you get to the couch." With all her will power she slipped away from his touch and stepped around him. He followed her closely. She took hold of his arm and began walking him towards the living room. When they reached the couch he plopped down on it in a very drunken way. "There we go." She helped him get his shoes off, "all comfy." She propped his head up and slip the pillow under his head.

She stood to leave him there, but he caught her hand lightly. Her heart was still beating so hard she thought there was no way he couldn't hear it. She looked back at him as he slowly raised her hand to his lips and held it there. She wanted to freeze and stay in that moment. The warmth of his lips against her knuckles sent electric waves up her arm and all through her body. Then just like that he let her go. "Goodnight Abby."

She only stared at him as he leaned back into the pillow and pulled the blanket over his shoulder, his drunken tiredness getting the best of him. "Goodnight Brice." She whispered. She made her way down the hallway to her room but it was difficult with the way her head was swimming in thought. What he had said to her, what did it mean? Did he feel that same feeling she did? What was he saying? All I think about. It played over and over in her head. She changed into an oversized T and put on her fuzzy shorts. She placed her glasses on the nightstand and climbed into bed. She knew sleep wouldn't come soon, not tonight. So she stayed there and stared at the ceiling until finally her eyelids were so heavy sleep overtook her at last. Abby, she thought before she slipped out of conscious thought, he called me Abby.