More Than Him (13 page)

A few minutes later I heard her voice.

Amanda
.

A part of me panicked. A part of me was thankful for second chances. Or, in my case, fourth, fifth, and sixth chances. "Take a seat at your table, I'll bring it out to you," Chantal told her. I braced myself for when she turned around and saw me sitting here. My hands gripped the side of the chair. I was half sitting, half standing, like my body was ready for a battle.

She froze the second her eyes made contact with me. "Whoa," she said. Then she took a step forward, as if unsure. I found myself sitting back down, relaxing slightly. She bit her lip; her eyes cast downwards, and stopped a few feet away. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

I exhaled loudly. "I can go—"

"No!" she exclaimed, at the same time as Chantal came back.

She placed two coffees and a book on the table, then turned to me and said, "You can't go. Besides, that's your chair. It's got your name on it."

I looked at her confused. "What?"

Amanda glared at Chantal, who just laughed. "On the arm. You didn't write it?" She gave Amanda a knowing smirk. "Well. Ain't that something . . ."

I heard Amanda mumble something under her breath, but was too busy looking at my name carved on the wooden arm of the chair. My fingers traced the letters.

"Do you want me to leave?" her voice was so soft I almost didn't hear it.

My head whipped up to face her. "No. Do you want to leave?"

"No." Then she just stood there, her eyes focused on my face. Probably the cut on my lip, and the slight redness on my cheek.

Chantal came back and made an annoyed huffing sound. We both turned to her. "What are you guys doing? You're not twelve." She threw her hands up in the air. "Talk." She placed her hands on Amanda's shoulders and maneuvered her to the seat opposite me. Amanda's gaze never left mine. Chantal pointed at the book and spoke to Amanda, "I got it signed for you."

Amanda finally looked away and up at Chantal. "No you didn't!" she said, with excitement in her voice.

"Yes," Chantal replied. "Look."

Amanda smiled as she opened the book. Fuck, I miss that smile. "Never regret," she breathed out, and then looked up at Chantal in awe. Chantal smiled back. "Never regret," she repeated.

She kept her eyes on the book for a while, her smile getting wider with each second.

"You come here a lot?" I asked her, but then rolled my eyes at myself.
Lame.

"Why, Logan," she smirked and put the book in her bag, "you've lost your game. That was a horrible pick up line."

I couldn't help but laugh. So did she. And somehow, in that one moment, the world tilted on its axis and the atmosphere became something closer to normal.

"I do, actually." She fidgeted with a bunch of bracelets on her wrists, and then placed them under the table. "Whenever I get a chance, between classes and what-not."

I nodded, thankful she was speaking to me.

"So," she started, looking around the store. "I assume you’re going back to UNC?"

"Yeah," I told her. "Next semester I start back, so I'll be a year behind."

She smiled softly. "How come you moved out here now, then? Why not after summer break?"

I felt the tension leave my muscles. She was talking to me; we were talking to each other. Things would be okay. "I wanted to get in early and find a place. I know it becomes harder the closer we get to the school year."

She was about to speak, but Chantal cut her off by placing a bowl on the table: red Gummy Bears and ice cream.

Amanda's eyes went wide, and then a smile formed on her lips. "How did she know?" she asked me, bringing the bowl closer to her.

I shrugged. "No clue."

"Liar."

I laughed.

"What happened to your face?" Chantal asked. I forgot she was standing there.

Amanda choked.

"Nothing," I said.

Amanda coughed some more.

Chantal eyed me, and then Amanda. "Nothing?" She raised her eyebrows.

Amanda calmed herself down. "I slapped him," she answered for me.

Chantal placed her hands on her hips. "Well, did you deserve it?" she asked me.

"Yes," I answered, the same time as Amanda said, "No."

Chantal shook her head, and walked away.

Amanda put the bowl to the side and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. "You didn't deserve that, Logan. I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I should have never laid a hand on you."

"It's fine. It really—"

"It's not fine. It's never fine." She reached out and pulled on my shirt until my position mimicked hers. Our faces so close I felt her exhale of breath against my skin. Then I felt her hand on my cheek. My eyes drifted shut. Her thumb skimmed my lip. "Does it hurt?"

I covered her hand with mine and brought my face closer to hers. I kept my eyes closed. I didn't want to see her pull away. Our noses rubbed against each other.

My heart pounded.

My hand trembled.

"You're shaking," she whispered.

Shit.
"Mm," was all I could say.

She placed my hand between both of hers and pulled away. I wanted to tell her to stay. I wanted her to be closer. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Mm," I said again.

I felt her bring my hand up, and press her mouth on my palm. She kissed it once, twice—by the third kiss it'd stopped shaking.

And I knew it then.

I knew she had the power to make everything better. That's why I needed her, but it was more than that. It was so much more than that.

I opened my eyes slowly, and that's when I saw it.

The mark on her wrist.

She must've noticed because she started to pull away. I gripped it and moved her bracelets so I could see it clearly.

And then I gasped. Like a fucking girl.

"What is this?" My eyes left her wrist and moved to her face.

She looked sick, like she was going to puke. She pulled her arm out of my grasp and stood up. "I gotta go."

She rushed for the front door.

I wanted to yell out. I wanted to stop her.

But I didn't do shit.

I just let her walk away.

What the fuck had happened while I was gone?

12

Logan

Another sleepless night. I couldn't get her out of my head. Honestly, she was always in my head. She'd only been in my life again for two days. Two fucking days, and this was the effect she was having on me. I had to keep reminding myself that she wasn't mine, and that it was my choice.

There was a knock on my door. No one knew I was back. No one knew where I lived. Only Amanda. I stood up and rushed to the door so fast my head spun. Way too excitedly, I opened it, but it wasn't Amanda.

She was pissed.

I grimaced.

"You fucking asshole." She shoved me hard against my chest.

"Nice to see you, too."

"No!" she yelled, hitting my chest a few times.

I tried to block her, but she was adamant on contact. "Fuck, what is with people hitting me?"

She stopped, her fist raised mid punch, but then narrowed her eyes. "You deserve it this time." She got in a few more hits before she started to cry. "I was so worried about you, Logan. Nobody knew anything, and you've been
here
. Why didn't you call me? Email . . . anything?" Her body slumped, as she wiped frantically at her tears.

"I'm an asshole, Lucy. I'm sorry. Come here." I brought her in for a hug. She resisted at first, but eventually gave in.

"I hate you," she said, and then I heard her sniff. "I missed you so damn much."

Ten minutes later, after I'd finally settled her down enough, she spoke, "How come no one knows you're here?"

I shrugged. "I just want to lay low for a bit. You can't tell anyone I'm here, Luce. Not even Cameron."

Her eyes went wide. "Well, that's going to be tough."

"Try, okay?"

She nodded.

"How did you even know I was here?"

"I have my ways." She giggled.

I sat on the sofa bed, and she did the same. "How's Cam?"

Her smile was instant. "He's good. We're good."

"That's awesome."

"And you? What have you been doing? Where were you?"

I told her all about Doctors Without Borders and my time in Africa. I told her about Manny and Jamal. She gave me a warning look when I mentioned Rebekah. I laughed at her—she had no idea where my heart and head were. I even told her about Amuhda and her mom. Lucy, being Lucy, cried some more. "But they're okay?" she kept asking.

I kept assuring her they were.

Then I told her about the PTSD meds I was on.

She was quiet for a while, and then lifted her chin, as if gaining the courage to speak. "Logan, no one really knows what happened that night. I mean, no one's said anything. Jake and Kayla, they seem to know, but they won't say much. I know Jake's your best friend, but I thought I was your girl?" She grimaced, probably not wanting to bring up Amanda.

I held her hand. Lucy was special to me, she always had been. It's like the moment Cameron brought her into our circle, she saw through my bullshit and just saw
me.
"Ask anything you want, Lucy. There are no secrets between us. Ever."

She nodded, then quietly spoke, "Did you know them? Those bad people that did that to you?"

I laughed under my breath. She spoke like a ten year old. "Yes, well, two of them. One of them was my birth dad."

She gasped loudly.

"The other was Megan's ex-boyfriend."

She looked confused now.

"Megan, Micky's ex-best friend, the one that cheated with James?" I waited for her to understand. When she did, I continued. "She's my half-sister, from my birth dad's side, and—"

"Hold up." She raised her hand to my mouth. "What the fuck is happening right now?" Her eyes were huge, disbelieving. "Dude." She sucked in a breath and let it out in a huff. "Are you openly telling people this shit? Because you might want to wait until you let everyone know you're back so you can answer the eleventy-three questions we're all going to ask."

I threw my head back in laughter. "Eleventy-three?"

She rolled her eyes. "My brother, Lachlan, swears it's a thing."

Lachlan—the Amanda date assister.

She must've sensed what I was thinking because she squeezed my hand once, and then faced me. "Have you seen her?"

I nodded.

"She give you that fat lip?"

I’d forgotten I had it. "Yup."

She shrugged. "I'd probably do a lot worse."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"You miss her?"

"Every second, of every hour, of every day."

"Okay Nicholas Sparks," she joked, and elbowed me in the ribs.

I pretended to wince.

She paled instantly, panic clear on her face.

I tried to calm her down. "I'm just fucking with you, Lucy. Shit."

Her panicked eyes turned into a glare, directed right at me. "You're an asshole."

I chuckled. "So you've said."

Then all of a sudden, she turned serious. "I'm glad your back, Logan. I really am. But this time—you better be ready to fight for her. She doesn't deserve anything less."

***

I felt like I'd just run a marathon, with weights strapped to me, five times over. I’d thought that I maintained my fitness while I was gone, but all I really did was keep the muscle mass. My conditioning sucked ass.

I hopped off the treadmill and prepared to leave. Too busy fucking around with my phone, I didn't see the body I ran into, or the fist coming at my face, or the elbow to my stomach. "Oomph." I held my stomach with one had while the other tried to hold on to something, anything, to stop myself from falling to the floor. I didn't know what I was holding onto until it was too late.
Boob.
Shit. I quickly let go and tried to find my footing. Then a knee to my junk
ruined
me. I fell to my knees and face-planted. I couldn't breathe. My eyes began to water. I shut them tight. I couldn't let people see me cry. I'm not a fucking pussy.

A loud squeal pulled me from my thoughts. "Holy shit, Logan! I'm so sorry."

Amanda.

I slowly opened one eye, just in case her voice was a hallucination. She was on her knees, bending to look at my face. "Oh my God," she whispered, placing her hand on cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh," I managed to get out.

She laughed.

Fucking laughed.

"Not funny," I told her.

She grimaced. "I'm sorry. You grabbed a handful of boob, I panicked."

"And before that?"

"I just—I don't know."

Some guy jogged up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she told him, but her eyes never left me.

"Is this guy bothering you?"

"What the hell?" I spat out. "I'm the one on the fucking floor, here."

He glared at me, his eyes narrowed. "Amanda, you need me to call security on this asshole?"

"Come the fuck on," I groaned, struggling to sit up. "Obviously, I'm not the threat, but please . . . go ahead and call security on Kung Fu Ninja here." I pointed to Amanda.

Her eyes were huge. She was in as much shock as I was in pain.

Asshole didn't respond, just stared at her tits and asked her if she was okay. She confirmed she was, and he left.

"That asshole was looking at your tits," I informed her.

She rolled her eyes. "At least he wasn't grabbing them."

"Valid."

She held her hand out for me and helped me to my feet. I stood, my body bent at my waist, holding onto my nuts, as if that was going to somehow make it all better. She placed her hand on my arm and led me to a chair nearby where I took a seat. Standing in front of me, she lifted my chin with her fingers. Her thumb stroked under my eye a few times. "Does it hurt?" She bit her lip, anticipating my answer.