In many ways I knew both Lynne and Jill better, and was closer to them than I had been to Vicky, and it bothered me sometimes. I had loved Vicky, and ...hat I felt for both Lynne and Jill was very different than what I'd felt for Vicky, but the closeness we DID have was something I hadn't had time to make with Vicky.For that reason I was completely comfortable around either of them, while feeling tense and anxious at the same time.Part of that was because both Lynne and her daughter were handsome. Abigail was accustomed to a quiet, simple life. As beautiful and enigmatic as Gabriel was, his lifestyle was far from alluring for her. She would never be able to actually be with a man like him, an adored rock god. It was too much for her. The sound of a haunting melody and equally mesmerizing voice had her turning up the volume of the radio. The man sang of love, its heartache, and complications, the loneliness of it when it wasn’t returned fully. His voice was so heartrending, so powerful. But I needed to keep the pot simmering, to borrow a phrase. I knew that if I asked for another show, or if I tried to advance her along, I stood a good chance of her pulling back. I'm not sure when, but somehow I had developed an innate sense of how far I could push her.So I left well enough alone. In my journal entries I flattered the hell out of her. I figured she was probably regretting her boldness, and I needed to repaint her memory of the event with what I wanted her to remember. Say. I meant it to come out softer, but I was still a little hot. ‘Especially at night,’ I added with a more even tone. Damn, I think I just sounded like my father did when I was younger. I disliked this situation immensely. Amber laughed. I hated this situation. ‘I’ve made it halfway across the country, Mark,’ Amber chuckled. ‘Go on,’ she continued, pointing down the road, ‘I’ll be fine. You’ve done enough.’ She headed to the back of my car and went back to the edge of the on-ramp. I took a deep.
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