Writers Note: As emphatically requested (and many thanks to all those who expressed such desires), here is chapter two in Don't Think, Breath... the story of Jack and Abbey. I hope it's as enjoyed as the first apparently was.
I was losing my mind. It was an undeniable fact.
Perhaps, but isn't it a lovely way to go?
*
I heard Abbey's voice clearly in my mind, and it just further proved the point. It had been a week since we'd seen each other, a week since that incredible night that had completely redefined passion. I smiled as I remembered Abbey's reaction to that bold statement, which I'd made just before the sun began to rise, a week ago.
"So do you mean redefined for you and I, or does one of us need to call Webster's and give them a play by play?
That smart-assed retort had earned her a swift swat on her delectable backside, which she'd exposed as she reached for a glass of water on the night stand. And that playful spank had led to another round of torrential passion flooding the room. We'd made love so many times that night, some of the moments just blended together in my mind. Sometimes we'd just held each other and kissed tenderly for a long time, other times we had been like wild animals, reacting on nothing but basic primal instincts. A few hours after we'd first abandoned the car - where the action had begun - we made love for over an hour, just touching tasting and exploring. Remembering that interchange made it hard to breath, and I'd begun to avoid thinking of that scene, as I had replayed events in my mind over the last week.
It was a fortunate thing that we'd met on a Friday night, because neither of us would've been in any condition to go to work the next morning. We slept late, giving into exhaustion in the wee hours. When I'd finally woken up, it was some time in the afternoon, and I was devastated to see Abbey standing in the bathroom doorway, buttoning up a clean blouse, that was definitely not intended for lounging around bed in. I think I'd have been fine if she'd just had on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, because I could've convinced myself she was just running out to get some lunch, or about to suggest we take a walk to remove the sleep from our eyes, before coming home for another session of exploration. But the professional attire said darker things were at foot. She'd laughed, reading my mind so easily, and I'd begun to realize that I was consciously collecting my scattered thoughts into coherent sentences, to make it easier for her. This thought made her smile brightly.
"I wondered when you'd notice you were doing that. "
She'd been called into work; some kind of problem, that turned out to be a thorn in our sides for days. This work emergency had kept her busy all Saturday, and much of Sunday. We talked on the phone several times throughout the weekend, but she was so exhausted Sunday night, I couldn't bring myself to request an invitation. While having that conversation, I had almost expected her to suddenly realize I was just being self sacrificing, and insist I come over. And that's when I fully realized that proximity mattered, when it came to her remarkable ability to see inside people's heads. When I inquired during a lunch phone conversation (neither of us had corresponding breaks in our meetings that week, which would've allowed us to meet for a meal, or better yet a matinee), she said that she had never tried to listen to someone more than a few feet away.
That had also led her to reveal something I'd wondered about the first night we met. When I'd been coming out of the bar, dedicated to the idea of not letting her run away when she'd accidentally revealed her hidden talent, she had heard every thought I'd had since she left her seat and headed out the door. That was why she had been standing at her car, trying to convince herself to stay, when her every instinct told her to leave and desperately hope I'd just forget her delivering the last line in a movie clip that had been playing in my mind. But my determination to stop her, made her stay. And did I thank every star in the heaven for that bit of luck. She'd never heard someone who was so far away from her, in physical proximity, until that night. She hadn't really ever tried. But somehow the connection we'd formed kept her mind locked on mine, even when I was a good 20 feet from her, and inside a building.
So the week had proceeded by, with one disaster after another keeping us apart. She was taking an evening class, two nights a week, trying to learn Spanish. She admitted that she'd just gotten so used to being able to hear what people thought, that it was frustrating when they were thinking in a language she didn't understand. So she'd decided to start learning some new languages, and Spanish seemed the most realistic starting point. It had seemed that we were finally going to have some time to spend together, as both our schedules were clear on Wednesday night, but a pipe burst at my sister's place, had me helping her with cleanup and hosting a family sleep over that night. My roommate had, at least, been a real sport about it. Knowing that my sister had no other family in the area, he'd graciously spent the night at his parent's house, giving up his bed to the 3 year old twins Chris and Sophie, while my sister had taken my room. Fortunately my couch was fairly comfortable. I had considered just telling my sister that I would spend the night at a "friend's" place, so they weren't so crowded in my tiny apartment. But she'd been so frustrated by the days events, that I couldn't bear to leave her alone with the toddlers. I spent most of the evening entertaining them, while she made calls to get the house cleaned up.
When I talked to Abbey that night, before we went to sleep, she'd been impressed by my consideration with my sister. I counted that at least in my favor, though I was beginning to come apart even then. That night, as I drifted off to sleep, was the first time I'd heard Abbey in my head. The first time it was just her laugh, a lovely little wind chime sound, which I heard while recalling the same movie line that had revealed her secret the other night. But that sound was enough. All night it had been one feverish dream after another. Abbey, naked in all her glory, lying beneath me on a bed of cream colored satin sheets, as I stroked every inch of her body; Abbey, in a sexy teddy, greeting me at the door after a long day at work; Abbey in a long t-shirt, rummaging through the refrigerator in the middle of the night, while I slid up behind her to distract one of her hungers with another.
When I woke up the next morning, I heard her voice again. This time she was snickering and playful.
"Wow Jack, with dreams like those, who needs reality?"
It happened over and over again on Thursday, and I debated mentioning it to Abbey, when we once again shared a quick conversation during lunch breaks. But I kept it to myself. There was a certain satisfaction in her not knowing what was going on my mind, though it wasn't nearly worth how long it had been since I'd been able to touch her. I wondered if she was as frustrated as I was, aching for the moment we could taste each others lips once again. We talked about it casually throughout the week, that it seemed the stars were plotting against us, the fates trying to keep us apart. But we never let the conversations get too heavy. Deep down though, I knew we were both doing it intentionally, storing up all the emotions and desires we had, to only be released when we were face to face.
All day Friday, I was antsy and anxious. I'm quite sure a few coworkers were wondering if I was on something. We hadn't even been able to talk at lunch, her day wall to wall with meetings. But she'd left me a quick voicemail, later in the afternoon, telling me she was having a similar affect on her secretary. I ducked out of work 20 minutes early and headed straight home, to grab a quick shower and change into something slightly more casual. I'd suggested a semi-fancy restaurant, but she'd counter-offered with a local diner just a few blocks from her house. When I considered that meant we were only a few blocks from her bed, I decided her plan was far better. It also meant real food, which was great, since I'd been too anxious to eat much at lunch.
