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THE SEVENTH pt2
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Thirty Days THE SEVENTH pt3
My taxi pulls up outside The Roundhouse, and I am amazed at the crowds of people gathered. I feel myself starting to panic, wondering how on earth I am going to find Taylor, when I hear a tap at the window and see the man himself standing there. Taylor pays my fare and then opens the door, offering his hand to help me out, something I am eternally grateful for considering the shoes that are now gracing my feet. “Holy shit, you look hot,” Taylor whispers into my ear before grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the entrance. “What’s going on, Taylor? I checked the website and it said nothing was on tonight, yet look at all these people.” Taylor just winks and pulls me forward. Curiosity has definitely got the cat, so I follow Taylor as fast as my heels will allow. At the entrance, Taylor is greeted by name, and I am starting to feel a little like Alice heading down the rabbit hole. “So are you going to tell me what is going on yet, Taylor?” I plead, desperate to know what on earth
Thirty Days THE SEVENTH pt4
I am grateful that Taylor has parked nearby, and it is only minutes until we are back in the cosy warmth. As the engine roars to life, I settle back in my seat and close my eyes, reliving that magic moment of being serenaded. Definitely, something to add to my top-ten life experiences. I must have dozed off because the next thing I know is the feeling of being lifted out of the car and being carried upstairs. I hadn’t even thought about where we were staying tonight, but from a sleepy glance around, I can see that Taylor has brought us back to Brighton. I smile into Taylor’s neck and murmur a soft “Hi.” “Back in the land of the living, then, are we?” Taylor laughs as he plops me somewhat ungraciously onto the bed, making me giggle. Lying down next to me, Taylor gives me a smouldering look as his eyes travel up my body. I am wide awake now and my libido has gone into overdrive. “I think it’s time to get you out of those clothes, Abby,” Taylor says, his voice thick with arousal. I c
Thirty Days THE EIGHTH
Shit. Shit. Shit. I am late. Somehow everything went pear-shaped this morning, starting with sleeping through my alarm, and now I am ten minutes late for my appointment with Dr Grohl. The receptionist waves me straight through when I come jogging in, and I find myself collapsing into my favourite squishy armchair whilst simultaneously trying to apologise for my tardiness and catch my breath. David hands me a glass of water and gives me a couple of minutes to collect myself before announcing that we ought to start the session. I feel so embarrassed about being late that I am particularly grouchy today. When David starts probing me about my freak-out in the bath—typical, Taylor must have called him—I find myself shutting down, unable to answer his questions as the images flood back. I don’t even realise that I am hyperventilating and in the middle of a panic attack until David is standing in front of me with a paper bag. As I struggle to get my breathing under control, David offers a
Thirty Days THE EIGHTH pt2
I wake with a start, vaguely wondering why I am on my couch. Everything floods back to me and my stomach clenches in anxiety. Realising my phone is ringing, I reach for it, noticing the private number, ready to give Taylor another piece of my mind. “What do you want?” I say brusquely. “Um, Abby?” questions a familiar voice softly. “Nicola?” I respond, wondering why she is calling. “Abby, can I speak to Taylor? He isn’t picking up his phone.” “He’s not here,” I say more harshly than intended, and I instantly feel contrite. “Sorry, Nicola. Taylor left a while ago.” I can hear soft crying and low music in the background, and I feel dreadful for talking to her like that. “Are you ok?” “Yeah, um, no, not really…” Nicola trails off. The hairs on my neck are standing on end, and call it women’s intuition or something, but I know something is very wrong. “Nicola, sweetie, tell me what’s going on.” The sobbing continues and a thousand scenarios run through my head, each one worse than
Thirty Days THE NINTH
I wake to find myself looking into Taylor’s eyes as he lies fully clothed beside me. “Why is my baby sister sleeping on the couch?” he asks softly. “What time is it?” I whisper, not wanting to wake Nicola up. “Just after five,” Taylor responds. Great, I have had less than five hours’ sleep. I am definitely going to be grumpy today, I think to myself. “Long story. But the short version is that she couldn’t reach you, so she called me instead!” I can’t quite keep all the venom out of my voice. “What are you doing here anyway?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at the smell of stale alcohol that is wafting off Taylor. Taylor closes his eyes briefly, as if he is contemplating what to say next. “Abby, Henry wasn’t following you. He was following Richard.” Oh. “And I am not keeping tabs on you through Dr Grohl. He just called to say you had had a difficult session and would need some extra support, something I asked him to do so that I can make sure I am there for you when you need me.” Right,
Thirty Days THE TENTH
Excitement is buzzing through my veins. Today is the day that the shop next door and the flat will become mine. Seriously, I never thought this day would actually arrive, but Mr Thompson assures me that I will be able to pick up the keys at midday. Unfortunately, Taylor is in London today for meetings, but my mum and dad are coming with me, which will kill two birds with one stone, as they need to sign our partnership papers. Eeeeek, I think to myself. “Hey, Abs, you are awake early,” Taylor says sleepily in my ear. “I am just too excited to sleep,” I reply, bouncing on the bed like a kid on Christmas Day. Taylor laughs before grabbing me around the waist and then pinning me beneath him, trapping both my hands above my head. “I am so proud of you, baby,” Taylor says, looking deep into my eyes. My breath hitches as I see the look in Taylor’s eyes and feel him hardening between my legs. I can instantly feel wetness as Taylor starts rubbing his cock gently through my folds and across
Thirty Days THE TENTH pt2
“Wow, I mean, seriously wow,” Michelle shouts down the phone at me. “Hey, I am right here. No need to blow my eardrums,” I admonish, chuckling before I carry on bringing her up to speed with the day’s events. My friendship with Michelle changed after my ‘incident’. Despite the fact that when we worked together she knew everything about me, when I came down to Brighton and my life spiralled out of control, I kind of flaked on her. Yet the day after I returned home from The Clinic and Taylor’s crazy midnight drunken proposal, Michelle turned up on my doorstep, bringing chocolate and caffeine, my drugs of choice, and unflinching support. Since then I have been under strict orders to keep Michelle in the loop, so I have done my best to keep her up to date via text and email. In return, she posts random inspirational thoughts on my Facebook timeline and phones me when she has a spare five minutes here and there. “Seriously, Abs, this sounds amazing. I can’t wait to see the place when it
Thirty Days THE TENTH pt3
Glancing outside, I notice that darkness has descended and I remember that Taylor promised to be home early. I head into the kitchen to check out what I have in the fridge to make for dinner and find it empty. Bugger! I am just running through my mental Rolodex of decent local takeaways that I can suggest to Taylor as I just can’t face eating out after my busy day when I hear his key in the lock. “Hey, Abs, you up there?” Taylor calls out whilst making his way up the stairs. “Uh-huh. I am in the kitchen,” I say just before he pops his head around the door frame. “It’s official. The fridge is empty. Takeaway?” I suggest. “Sounds good to me,” Taylor agrees. We argue back and forth, finally settling on Thai. Yum, my favourite. While Taylor calls in our order, I head into the bedroom to change. Shrugging off my jeans, I pull on a pair of fleecy pyjama bottoms covered in cute owls and a long-sleeve T-shirt. I am just pulling on a comfy long cardigan when I hear Taylor’s phone ring. “Sorry,
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