Motion(Laws of Physics #1)(44)

“Of course.” Crap. I was going to need to be more careful with my questions. “From your perspective, though, what happened next?”

He sent me a questioning glare as he readjusted his hands on the wheel. “Gabby and Leo showed up, you were mostly awake by then, climbing all over me. I was trying to keep you from hurting yourself, but also . . . ” He paused and shook his head, making a face of intense irritation.

“Oh no.” I covered my face and peeked at him from between my fingers, frustration and anger nearly choking me. “I groped you, didn’t I?”

He shrugged, not looking at me, but there was a palpable mood shift. He suddenly felt very distant, faraway. “Anyway, I wasn’t too happy. Gabby and I got into it. Leo carried you to your room. Gabby left. The end.”

With more force than necessary, Abram flipped the turn blinker and made a right onto our street while I sat perfectly still. I felt so . . . so . . .

ANGRY.

How could he forgive her? What was wrong with him? He should have-should have- I don’t know. But he should have done something.

Wordlessly, he parked in front of the house, turned off the headlights, and cut the engine, all the while staring forward. I let my hands drop from my face to my lap and also stared forward, now nauseous.

But then, just as the stillness and silence settled around us, he faced me, drawing my eyes to his, Abram’s features now mostly in shadow. “Can we just forget about that? Can we just pretend it didn’t happen? I mean, what did happen? Nothing happened.”

Nothing happened.

A bubble of laughter erupted from between my lips and I shook my head, closing my eyes. I sighed.

“Lisa.” He placed his hand over mine.

I didn’t yank it, but I did slide it away and turned to open the door. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Exiting the car, I took a moment to fix my skirt before walking to the keypad and punching in the code. I heard Abram’s door close behind me and he opened the gate just as it unlocked and buzzed. I walked through it and we climbed the stairs side by side, his hands in his pockets, my arms crossed over my chest.

When we reached the top stair, he side-stepped, cutting me off, stopping directly in front of me, and forcing my eyes to his.

“Listen, I was pissed at the time. But I’m not upset anymore.”

“If the roles had been reversed, if I’d found you, an unknown person, naked in my bed. And then you groped me? Should I forgive you so easily? Should I not be upset?”

He frowned, looking frustrated. “I’m not saying what you did was okay, and I’m really glad—I mean, really fucking glad—you feel remorse about it. You apologized. I forgive you.”

I scoffed, shaking my head.

His tone turned stern. “No. I get to decide what and who I forgive, and I forgive you. But, fine, forget about that for a minute. There’s one fundamental difference between what happened that night and the hypothetical, role reversal situation you’re proposing.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I lifted my chin a notch.

“At no point was I afraid of you.” His gaze seemed to narrow, as though watching my reaction very carefully, and he added slowly, “But I’m guessing, whatever happened to you, was scary as hell.”

I didn’t flinch. But holding his eyes, I felt mine sting. A searing numbness settled in my stomach and I found I had to swallow before I could speak.

“Nothing happened.” I parroted his own words, my voice gravelly, and then stepped around him, walking calmly to the front door.

I remembered I didn’t have any keys just as I spotted two slips of paper tucked into the door jam. Retrieving them, I read the first,

Hey you,

I stopped by. Wanted to see how you were doing. I found this postal service slip just inside the gate on the cement so I brought it up to the door.

I’ll be by tomorrow. Maybe we can have breakfast and catch up.

Love ya, Gabby

I handed her note to Abram when I finished and glanced at the second slip. Sure enough, it was one of those orange United States Postal Service slips.

Sorry we missed you! We tried to deliver your package. It is now being held for you at Wicker Park Commons on N Ashland Ave. Please stop by with a photo ID to collect your package.

“Must be your cell phone and stuff,” he said.

I turned my head and found him at my shoulder, reading the postal service slip.

“Yeah. Must be.” I handed it to him as well and stepped to the side so he could unlock the door.

Abram shoved the notes in his back pocket and retrieved the keys, his eyes on me the whole time, his features mostly clear of expression. But he didn’t unlock the door.

“Hey,” he said.

“Yes?” I said.

“So, can we forget it happened?” He took a shuffling step toward me, dipping his chin.

“Are you going to unlock the door?”

“Can we forget about it? Start over?”

I didn’t have to think much about his request, because the only logical path forward was obvious. “No. We’re not going to forget about it. You’re going to hold that grudge.”

He exhaled a frustrated-sounding breath even as his lips tugged to the side. “Oh yeah? Why would I do that?”

I told him the truth, “Because you never know when that Lisa might come back.”