My hand reached out to touch her leg. The action was supposed to be soothing, but it had the opposite effect. Her eyes widened slightly and her breath caught. She didn't pull back, and she didn't stop me. I spread my legs and gripped hers tighter, begging her to come closer.
She did.
Her hand stayed on my face as she leaned in close, inspecting it. "Shit, Logan. It's going to bruise."
I shook my head. My eyes never left hers. "It's fine. Don't even worry about it."
"I keep hurting you."
"I keep deserving it."
She smiled. My gaze drifted down to her mouth.
She wet her lips. "Don't you dare kiss me," she warned.
I chuckled. "I wasn't planning on it."
Lie.
I took a chance and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her down until she was sitting on my leg. Her arm wrapped around my neck. I breathed out, relieved. She was letting me have this, and I sure as shit wasn't going to question it. I saw her eyes focus on my lips. "You want me to, don't you?"
"Huh?" Her eyes snapped up.
"You want me to kiss you?"
"No." She feigned disgust.
"Fine," I told her. "Can you just sit here with me then, just until my boys get back to normal?" I pointed to my lap.
She laughed and looked away, and her arm around my neck loosened.
She wanted to leave.
Without intending to, the grip on her waist tightened.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said.
"Good," I said. "Neither am I."
She faced me now, an emotion on her face I couldn't understand. Then she leaned in, her face so close to mine I felt her breath on my cheek.
My heart thumped.
My eyes shut.
I waited.
And waited.
Then I felt her lips press on my cheek, just under my eye. "I don't ever mean to hurt you," she said quietly.
***
Somehow, I persuaded her to have lunch with me. We were both in our post-gym sweaty state, so she wanted to shower. "Do it at my house," I told her. "I have to go home anyway, I didn't bring anything to change into."
She hesitated for a moment before agreeing.
I didn't even consider how the thought of her naked in my shower was going to affect me until I was sporting a hard-on in my living room. I heard the bathroom door open and quickly adjusted myself. "All done?" I asked her.
She nodded, looking at the floor. She'd changed into a plain white dress that showed off her legs and her tanned skin. She wasn't as dark as Ethan, but she had that naturally olive skin most girls paid for.
"I'll be done in a little bit, just make yourself at home."
Amanda
I’d gone through his bathroom cupboard looking for a disposable razor. It wasn’t as if I was trying to impress him, but my legs had four-day growth and I really didn't want him to notice, let alone touch it. I didn't find the razors, but I did find a bottle of Xanax prescribed to him.
Now, alone in the living room, I took my phone out my bag and started researching anxiety medication and its side effects. I didn't get very far before the bathroom door opened. The steam from inside clouded him as he walked out wearing nothing but sweatpants.
No shirt.
I wiped my mouth, positive that I was drooling.
He walked towards me. I stood frozen. He didn't stop until we were face to face. His bare chest brushed against my breasts. My breath hitched. A shiver traveled up my spine. "You," he said, licking his lips. "Are welcome to grab my boobs whenever you want."
***
"Sorry we had to come out this far." He bit into his burger and chewed before speaking again. We were at diner a little ways out of town. "I just still want to lay low for a little bit, you know?"
"Sure."
"So, you didn't keep in touch with Micky and Lucy when I was gone?"
How did he know that? "How did you know that?"
"Through Jake. I called him on your—"
My chest constricted. His words hurt. He must've noticed because he asked, "What's wrong?"
I shook my head, and pushed down the pain.
"Amanda," he cooed. "Did I say something?"
He scooted around the booth until he was sitting next to me.
I felt pathetic.
I
was
pathetic.
"What did I do?" he asked. I don't know if he was speaking to himself or me. I heard him sigh, and then put his arm on the back of the booth. His other hand reached up and he used his fingers to turn my face towards his. "Tell me."
My heart broke.
I inhaled deeply, and let the words out. "You never called me. The entire year you were gone I got
one
letter from you. I thought that maybe you were cutting yourself off from everyone, but you called Jake? Why didn't you—"
"I called Jake once, because I needed something from him," he explained.
"And your dad?" My voice got louder.
He shrugged. "Is my dad. I owe him that much."
"And me?" I tried to keep it together. "You don't think you owed me something? You don't think that what we had was worth something? You don't think
I
was worth something?"
"That's not it at all, Amanda."
"Then what? Explain it to me, please?"
His gaze moved all over my face, and then held it in his trembling hand. I covered it with mine. Then he spoke, "Why are you here with me right now? Why are you talking to me? Why are you spending time with me?"
"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I can't help it, and I can't explain it."
"Exactly," he breathed out. "I can't explain it, either. Not yet, anyway. I just don't ever want you to think that it's because you didn't mean anything to me. You meant the world to me. And if you didn't know that—if you couldn't see that—then that's how I'll start. Every day I'll show you, and every day I'll prove to you just how much you meant to me. How much you
still
mean to me."
13
Logan
Logan
: I'm doing it. I'm going to fight for her. I can't exist without her. She's my air.
Lucy
: Of course she is.
Logan
: Have you told anyone I'm back?
Lucy
: I told you I wouldn't.
Logan
: Not even Cam?
Lucy
: Not even Cam. Why are you texting me? Are you bored?
Logan
: You know me way too well.
Lucy
: I'll be there in 15.
She stepped in fifteen minutes later, holding a paper bag towards me.
"What's this?" I asked, taking it from her hands.
"We had dinner at Jake's parents the other night. His mom baked cookies."
I got excited. Too excited. I loved Jake's mom's cookies. I pulled out three and shoved them in my mouth.
"Jeez," she said. "It's like you haven't had decent food for a year." She chuckled to herself, and then looked around the place. "Your apartment's kind of depressing."
I laughed. "I know. I'm hoping I can persuade Amanda to help me fix it up."
She smiled and tried to sit up on the kitchen counter. On her third attempt, she huffed and motioned for me to help her. I lifted her by her waist and placed her on it. "You're so little."
She snorted. "I know. I have the body of a twelve-year-old boy,"
I threw my head back in laughter. "Not true, Luce. You're hot. You just don't care that you are."
"Aw, that's so nice."
I shrugged and leaned against the fridge. "It's the truth."
"Cameron wants us to move in together. Get an apartment, and all that."
"Yeah? I'm surprised you haven't already."
She picked at her nails. "I want to, but my dad wants us to wait until we're married, or at least engaged."
"What? Does your dad know that Cam practically lived in your cabin?"
She laughed quietly. "I think he's in denial."
"So what are you going to do?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I think he wants to do it for the wrong reasons."
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. "Some stuff happened when you were gone, and he thinks this might fix it."
"What stuff?" I straightened a little, paying full attention. "Fix what?"
"Nothing." She shook her head. "Not important. So you and Amanda?"
I couldn't help the smile that took over. "I'm hoping she might want to spend some time with me, you know? Maybe I can try to convince her to give me another chance. I mean—whatever was there before I left—it's still there."
"And you think she feels the same?"
"I can't be sure, but there's always this . . . I don't know . . . intensity? It's like when we're together, nothing else exists." I paused. "You didn't speak to her at all when I was gone?"
She shook her head. "No. She told us that she just needed some time, and that she'd contact us when she was ready, but she never did. I miss her, but what can I do? Cam even spoke to her when he dropped off the car; he told her to call me. I guess it was just too painful for her."
I cleared the lump in my throat.
She continued, "Sometimes it's just timing, Logan. Two hearts can beat as one, even if they aren't synced. Maybe that's what it was with you two. Maybe you just need to find the right rhythm, the right timing. Maybe now's that time for you guys."
"Maybe," I told her. "I mean I hope so. I want to be together, like you and Cameron are. I want her to be my Lucy. My forever."
She smiled huge. "Then what are you waiting for?" she jumped off the counter. "Go get her."
I grabbed my keys off the counter.
"I plan to."
Amanda
"What's gotten into you?" Alexis eyed me from the across the kitchen. We both stood in our pajamas, drinking coffee.
"What do you mean?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't play dumb. I've known you since we came out of our mamma's coochies, who's the guy?"
"What?" I faked ignorance. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
She took two steps forward and pinned me against the counter. I waited while her gaze roamed all over my face. "Logan's back, isn't he?"
"What?" I screeched. "I mean—no—I don't know. Is he?"
Smooth.
"You bitch. When did he get back, and why haven't you told me?"
I sighed, defeated. "I saw him three days ago."
She looked towards the hallway, then back at me. My eyes followed. "What?" I asked.
Her grip on my arm was tighter than necessary when she pulled me into my room. "Talk," she said.
"I don't know. I saw him at a party, and then . . ." I shrugged. I shouldn't have added anything.
"And then what?" she whisper-yelled, leaning against my door.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing, don't change the subject. And then what, Dim?"
I sat on my bed. "And then we went to a park and talked for a bit."
"What else?"
"Nothing else."
She crossed her arms. "Quit lying."
"Fine," I huffed. "And then we ended up back at his place."
"WHAT?"
"Shut up! Nothing happened, we just talked."
"You just talked?" she repeated, disbelief laced in her tone.
"Yes," I tried to convince her. "And I slapped him."
"WHAT?"
What the hell? I may as well tell her all of it. "And then I saw him at the bookstore, and the gym, and I punched him, and then we had lunch . . ."
"WHAT?" she said again.
I laughed. "Have you finally run out of shit to say?"
"Shut up."
I laughed again.
She sat on the bed and dramatically flung her body backwards. "This is bad," she said.
"What are you talking about? It's fine. Nothing's happened."
"Yet."
"So you randomly bumped into each other at all these places; it wasn't planned?"
"No, of course it wasn't planned. I wouldn't do that."
She sat back up and turned her body to face me. "Amanda, I need you to be serious for a second." She spoke down to me, like I was a kid, and held both my hands in hers. "Do you want something to happen?"
I shrugged and looked away. "I don't know."
"It's a simple question. It's a yes or no answer."
I laughed once, but it was bitter. "You should know better than anyone that it's not a simple question. You know how I feel."
Her head fell forward. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Me too."
"Amanda?" She looked up now. "You can't tell Ethan he's back. And you sure as hell can't tell him that you've been seeing him."
I reared back, surprised at her words. "What are you talking about?"
"How do you not see it? Ethan hates Logan. Like,
hates
hates him. As in—and these are his words, 'If I ever see that asshole again, I'm gonna lay him out.'"
I looked at her. "He's never said that shit to me."
It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Of course he hasn't. He hates bringing him up with you." She sighed. "Look, I don't say this to hurt you . . . but Logan—he fucked up. And Ethan—he was the one to pick up the pieces. And not just the last time, but the first time, too. He forgave him once, but that's it for him. He can't do it again." She paused for a few moments. I wondered if she was done, but she kept going. "You know how much sleep he lost over you?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but she stopped me.
"I'm not saying that he blames you, or that he's bitter about it. I'm just saying that he cares
that
much. Since your dad left, he's somehow convinced himself that it's his job to take care of you and your mom. You know he used to text me in the middle of the night at random times? He could hear you crying in your room, and he'd ask me what to do—whether or not he should go in and comfort you. You know how many times he called me when you were having nightmares, and he could hear you screaming? You're not the only one that went through that, Amanda. He did too.