For Kicks (17 page)

He looked up, his gaze locking with hers, and his heart stalled, time seeming to slow as the moment forever imprinted itself in his mind. He’d never be able to forget anything about her. The realization was at once terrifying and deeply comforting. Did she feel it too?

Reality heckled in the back of his mind. She didn’t want anyone to know. That wasn’t acceptance. He took a deep breath and rose above it, standing and taking her hand.

He wouldn’t tell her how he felt until she was ready to tell the world. But bottling it inside made him want to scream. If he couldn’t tell her, he’d show her. Leave no doubt in her suspicious mind of what road they were traveling down together.

Bright red numbers from the bedside alarm clock were the only light in the room. Logan’s slow, satisfied breath the only sound. And if her stomach hadn’t growled her awake with a reminder her lunch meeting hadn’t included food, Breeze would be happy to slumber beside him for the rest of the night.

The clock told her it was only eight, so she sat up slowly, careful not to rouse the man beside her. She widened her eyes, blinking until the edges of things came into focus. She found a shirt, his, and underpants, hers, slipped them over her body and tiptoed to her bag. Pulling out her cell phone she made her way across the room to the tiny desk.

Like every other room she’d stayed in, she knew this one would have a folder in the drawer with numbers for local take-out restaurants and room service. She took it to the window and pulled back the drape slightly, just enough so she could make out the letters on the pages. Pizza seemed like the path of least resistance. Fast, easy, came right to the door so she wouldn’t even need to get dressed.

Going out to dinner would be nicer, but she didn’t really want to leave the room. Here it felt like she and Logan were in a protected bubble. If they stepped outside, even for something as innocent as a meal, there were too many people she’d been introduced to today who might happen to be at the same restaurant. All the faces were blending together, so she wouldn’t even know she’d been made.

She squeezed her head between her hands to make the paranoia stop. She had such little time with him that she was tired of wasting it on worry. They could stay in and maybe watch a movie on television. The only movies she ever saw were on airplanes.

It felt impish, whispering her order into the phone as if it were a secret. But he’d had a long day, long week too. When they got back home she’d have to get used to how much he had to travel. Though it might keep him from pressuring her to work less if she compensated while he was away.

She didn’t know what he wanted from her after she got home, and she wasn’t about to ask. If he told the truth, she might be forced to end things now. And she wanted a little indulgence, a little fun. She deserved it with as hard and as much as she’d been working. Traveling across the country was exhausting.

Her mother would call it an adventure. Breeze grinned, recalling how Logan had told her to try one new thing in each city so she’d remember them. Her mother would love that about him. Her mother, whom she still hadn’t gotten a hold of.

Over the last week she’d realized she hadn’t spoken with her parents in three months. Not on purpose, messages kept getting crossed between her busy life and their hectic schedule. Every time she called she got their machine. She hadn’t noticed until now how unsatisfying phone tag could be.

If it was eight here, it would only be six back home. Dinnertime. Surely they’d be home for dinner. She dialed the number and held her breath, sighing at the fourth ring, knowing the answering machine would click on next.

She left yet another message, worrying about why she hadn’t heard from them. Surely if someone were sick, they would have told her. Though no one had mentioned when their neighbor, Mr. Baker, died. It had taken a year for her to find out, and only because she’d asked how he was. They claimed they didn’t think to tell her because they knew she wouldn’t come back for the funeral. True, she hadn’t been back since the day she left. Maybe she should go, surprise them. Adolescent transgressions weren’t meant to haunt you forever.

Ever since that one mistake, she’d been careful. Never acting in a way that would make her family anything but proud. But even a college degree, owning her own home, and having a successful career couldn’t seem to make up for the five minutes of her life when she did what she knew she shouldn’t.

Everything about that moment felt wrong. Or was that just hindsight? Even though in her head she knew being with Logan was risky, it didn’t feel wrong or forbidden or unnatural. But if she and Logan were exposed, ugly rumors would circulate and things would rapidly spiral out of control. Would she change her mind about the way she felt now?

She closed her eyes against the idea. Regret wasn’t something she wanted to associate with Logan. She’d much rather focus on the way she felt around him, light and complete and, dare she think it, happy.

She turned to watch as he slept on his stomach, not a care in the world. How did he break through her defenses so easily? Was he good at searching for someone’s weaknesses and exploiting them, or did he really care as much as he seemed to?

He stirred, rolling onto his back and rubbing his hand over his stomach until it disappeared beneath the sheet. She smiled, knowing where it went. She had plenty of time to wallow in doubt when he wasn’t around. Since he was here, and willing even while he slept, best to enjoy him while she still had the chance.

Chapter Twelve

“Artichoke hearts?” Logan picked the offending vegetable from the pizza and set it in the box. “You couldn’t meet me halfway?”

“What’s halfway? Mushrooms?” Breeze sat cross-legged on the couch, the pizza between them.

“Half-meat, half-veggie. I’d do it for you.” Her choice of topping didn’t keep him from eating half of the pie, and draining two of the root beers he’d salvaged from the vending machine down the hall.

“I didn’t think about it. Next time, I promise.” She leaned forward, wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

He caught her wrist. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“I’m supposed to look at you with sauce on your face?”

With his other hand, he swiped the box onto the floor and pulled her across the couch and into his lap. His mouth found hers and she lost herself in his kisses. Every move had an air of authority, a confidence that reassured her. When he pulled away, he held her face in his hands and her soul in his mesmerizing gaze.

“I got you a present,” he said with a smile, pulling her deeper into his spell.

“I know. I’ve enjoyed it twice already.” She smiled back at him, hoping he’d catch her meaning and take control.

“I love how your naughty mind works, but I don’t want you thinking that’s the only reason I came to see you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He laughed so hard she shook against his bare chest. “No, I want you, but I want to spend some time not horizontal too.” He sat up and shifted her off him.

She made a face and stood, gathering the napkins and empty pop cans. “We could watch television. Maybe one of the movie channels?”

“What movie channels?” The corner of his mouth twitched and he raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever one is playing a movie you haven’t seen. I don’t watch many movies, so I’m game for anything.”

“What are you asking to watch exactly?”

“I don’t know. Not horror or drama, just something light and mindless. Comedy or action, I guess.”

“Oh.” He let out a deep breath and a silent chuckle.

“What?” The room straightened, she sat back down on the couch and pulled a pillow into her lap.

“I thought you were talking about the adult movie channels.”

She gasped, covering her gaping mouth with her hand.

“Good. Because porn is really not my thing.”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “I thought guys like porn.”

“Some.” He shrugged. “I just get weirded out by it. Always have, since my first peek at a magazine at a friend’s house. Probably because the model looked like my sister. I can’t get out of my head that those people have families, real lives. So unless we make one, you’re on your own with that.”

“I don’t…we’re not…” She waved her hands through the air, then plopped them onto the pillow. “Next subject please.”

“Let’s see what’s in my bag of tricks.” He reached behind him for the shopping bag and held it between them. “Close your eyes and pick something.”

She stuck her hand inside and grabbed the first thing she encountered. What she found tightened her throat.
Our Family History
. She flipped it open, her eyes growing heavy at all the questions and blank space to fill in.

“Did you call your mom?”

“She hasn’t been home.” She cleared her throat. “They’ll love going through this. Thank you.”

“We could do one now.”

“One what?” She shut the book, another inch closer to deciding she would finally go back home for a visit.

“A question.” He pulled the book from her hands and opened it. “How about family vacations? What were yours like?”

“You go first.” She forced a smile and welcomed the distraction.

“We used to go back to Vermont every Thanksgiving. It’s where my mom grew up.”

“That’s nice. It’s supposed to be beautiful there in autumn with all the leaves.”

“Some years there were still leaves. But the last year we went was a blast. We landed fine, drove the hour to my grandparents’ house, no problem. Then while we were eating lunch it started to snow.

“Janelle and I were excited. We were lucky to get snow every four years at home. We went out and played and played until we were frozen stiff. We went to sleep that night staring out the window.

“We woke up to four feet of snow, completely snowed in. It was Vermont, so they were used to that and had the streets cleared by nightfall. But that morning, it was gorgeous. We opened the upstairs windows and watched the light reflecting everywhere off the snowbanks.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine.”

“You never went again?”

He shook his head, a wistful smile twisting his lips. “My grandfather died and my grandmother planned to come live with us. But she never made it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand and held his fingers in hers.

“My mom said they couldn’t stand to be apart.” He shrugged and took a deep breath. “Your turn.”

“I don’t have anything like that.” She pouted and hugged the pillow, searching her mind.

“Did you visit your grandparents?”

“My grandmother. My dad is older than my mom; his parents were gone before I was born. I’d get to visit my grandmother and she’d take me shopping in one of her stores. It was fantastic. I even got my hair done, straightened. I got to be somebody else.”

He crinkled his nose. “How long is it when it’s straight?”

“Think Lady Godiva.”

His head fell back on his shoulders and he groaned.

“I’ll get it straightened the next time I get it cut. It takes too long to do it myself.”

“I like it curly. I don’t think it would be as much fun to play with straight. But you know, if you wanted to make that video…”

“Not happening. What else is in the bag?”

He held up the bag again and she dug in, coming up with the complete works of Shakespeare. He dug in the bag and handed her a study guide.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I love Shakespeare.”

“You do?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see just what he meant.

“My mom taught it at the university. They do Shakespeare in the park in August. I was thinking we’d go together.”

“You’re asking me out on a date I need to study for?” She set the books on the floor. August was still three weeks away, and two weeks past his usual relationship limit.

“I want you to be able to follow along.”

“Have you been to the Shakespeare festival in Ashland?”

“I try.Mmost years I make it down.”

“I grew up in Ashland. They have some great programs for home-schooled kids. Growing up, I saw every production, a dozen plays a year. And I got to work on the sets, in the box office, in the chorus, ushering.”

“Wow. Let’s go when the project wraps. You’re getting some time off and the festival runs all summer.”

Adrenaline rushed through her veins. Even though Logan knew the humiliation she’d suffered back home, he didn’t know how ugly it had gotten, had never seen the way people looked at her. She wouldn’t risk letting him.

“Shakespeare in the park sounds nice.” Two could play at this meet the family game. “Maybe your parents could come too.”

His expression went blank and he took a deep breath. “They died when I was sixteen.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“I know. I don’t talk about it, and it’s not something that comes up easily.”

She pushed the pillow to the floor and crawled over his legs to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder.

“I’m okay. You don’t have to—”

“Give me a minute here. You’ve had time to deal with this, I just found out.” She couldn’t let him see the tears in her eyes, so she didn’t look up, just squeezed tighter.

As she held him, her image of him came into sharper focus. This must be why he always encouraged her to call her parents. Between their death in his teens and his nearly dying during the bus accident, it was no wonder he was so committed to living every moment. To not planning for a future that might never come. It wasn’t her he was avoiding, it was losing something he loved like his parents and soccer.

“I didn’t expect this from you.” He twisted a curl between his fingertips.

She listened as he told her about the car accident, acting out and coming to terms with it, all Janelle sacrificed so he wouldn’t have to change anything else in his life.

He placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Now, up with you. There is one more present in the bag.”

She sat up and wiped her eyes, glad for the subject change but not for the distance. Especially when he widened it by standing up and walking away.