“Yes. You can.”
“I can what?” I asked.
She huffed, clearly annoyed. Her almond eyes narrowed at me as she crossed her arms. “You can take a picture of me.”
A cheeky grin spread across my face. I lifted my phone, and she came into the screen. She looked a bit afraid. She uncrossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, giving me a coy look full of innocence. I snapped the picture right then and set it as my background. “Perfect.”
“Now, do you want pizza, Chinese, Thai? My personal favorite is Indian food. I love Indian food.”
“If you like it, I want to try it,” she said. “I’ll eat your scraps.”
I paused what I was doing, looking up the number to the Thai place and it hit me then that she hadn’t had a good meal in about a year, minus the sandwich she had the other day. I sat on the bed and took her hand in mine, rubbing the ridges of her knuckles. “Abigail, with me, you never have to eat scraps. You’re going to get
your own meal. Your own drink. You never have to be hungry again, not while you’re with me.” Not ever. Even if she didn’t want to be with me, I’d make sure she would be taken care of. I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and settled in next to her. “Here, we can look at the menu together. You can get whatever you want.”
Her brows did a cute curve in the middle as she knitted them together, and as she leaned into me, I did the one thing that felt natural.
I put my arm around her. Maria’s name took that moment to pop up on my screen in a text that said, “We need to talk.” I knew Abigail saw it, but she didn’t say anything, she continued to look at the menu. I slid the message away. Maria had this innate ability to grab anyone’s attention, and while that used to be the case with me, I knew now that the only thing I ever felt about Maria was lust. The way I felt about Abigail was a million times more than what I felt with Maria.
“That,” Abigail said, pointing to the chicken vindaloo. “And that,” she slid her finger across the screen, and it scrolled up really fast. She jerked her hand away and stared at me with wide eyes. “It moved,” she said.
Fuck, she couldn’t even remember cell phones. I bet she had one too. No way she didn’t.
“It’s a touch screen. Here.” I grabbed her hand and took her index finger to slide across the screen. “It isn’t familiar? They have been out for a while.”
She shook her head, and by the way her mouth frowned, I knew I had upset her. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Not you,” she said. “Memory,” Abigail pointed to her head. “Frustrating.”
“I could imagine. I’ll teach you whatever you want to know about the phone, okay? Let’s order food and put on a movie and just enjoy the rest of our night? What do you want?”
She grinned, smiling as she pointed to a few different things. I got them all for her, a piece of chocolate cake, and a few Cokes and bottles of water. I put it all on my debit card, and now all we had to do was wait.
“If you eat all of that, I’ll give you a treat, and I’ll be really impressed.” I didn’t tell her, but we ordered around one hundred bucks worth of food. I had the money. It wasn’t a big deal, but she ordered like four entrees and three appetizers.
“What kind of treat?” she asked and tucked her legs under her butt.
“I don’t know, whatever you want. Candy, a beer,” I chuckled. Shit, was she even old enough to drink? Fuck, was she old enough to be in this room with me? Was she legal? Panic bubbled up in my chest at the thought of lusting after someone underage.
“A kiss,” she whispered so low, it sounded more like the sound a breeze carries.
“How old are you?” I asked, nervous to know the answer to the question.
“Maybe twenty-one? Can’t remember birthday,” she said, breaking my fucking heart. “I remembered being twenty.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and my cock agreed. Thank fuck. “And you want a kiss if you finish all your food?”
She nodded eagerly and then sat crossed legged, smiling. “I never kissed anybody before, not that I can remember.”
Abigail was using her words more. I was so fucking proud of her, even if it was just a short amount of time, it was progress. “So, I’d be your first?” I asked. My previous thought of her being a virgin might not be wrong then. But maybe she had a high school boyfriend, and they had sex, and she couldn’t remember. I didn’t judge her at all, I wasn’t a virgin, but the selfish and possessive bastard in me wanted her to be untouched.
All for me.
“After the accident, yes. Before,” she shrugged. “I don’t feel I did.”
“Feelings tell a lot. Instincts are usually right.”
“I remember nothing, but…” she groaned in frustration. “The word,” Abigail pressed her palms against her eyes. “Don’t know the word.”