More Than Him (17 page)

"Shh," he soothed. He continued to stroke my hair until the tears subsided and sleep overcame me.

***

He was crying. He was asleep, but he was crying. He mumbled something, and it sounded like my name. His head thrashed from side to side. I sat up and turned on the nightlight. I didn't know what else to do. His face was pained. It broke my heart. "Stop," he quivered, still asleep. And then tears fell from his shut eyes.

"Logan!" I shook his heavy shoulders. "Wake up."

He didn't. I shook him harder.

Then, with lightning fast speed, he gripped my wrist tight, making me wince in pain. "Logan," I cried out.

His eyes snapped open. He sucked in a breath, as if he'd just come up from drowning. His eyes were glazed.

I tried to pull my hand from his grip, but he didn't loosen his hold. "Logan, it hurts."

"What?" he croaked.

I started to pry his fingers from their death grip.

"Shit!" His fingers straightened, releasing me instantly. "Fuck, I'm sorry." His breathing was loud, heavy.

"It's okay." I massaged my wrist, trying to recirculate the blood.

He held it in both his hands and did it for me. His thumbs massaged the area I'd tried so hard to hide. He pulled it towards his lips and kissed it once, twice, then placed my palm over his heart.

He sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "How bad was it?"

I shrugged. "I have nothing to compare it to."

He nodded, picked up my hand again and looked at my wrist. "I'm not going to ask you, but you'll tell me when you're ready, right?"

"Yes," I said truthfully.

"Good."

"Does it happen often—the nightmares?"

He nodded again.

Sweat had built on his hairline; I wiped it away with my fingers and sat cross-legged next to him. I knew what he was feeling. The aftermath of nightmares was painful. The images plagued in your memory overshadowed the relief that it was just a dream. He blew out a breath and rubbed his hand against his jaw. "I forgot to take my meds," he admitted quietly.

"Xanax?" I asked.

His eyes narrowed.

"I saw them in your bathroom. I wasn't snooping, swear it."

He looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah."

"Can I ask you about it?"

He eyed me now, a look on his face I couldn't decipher. "Of course," he said. "I'll never keep anything from you. Come here." He held out his arm again, but I chose instead to lie on top of him. He didn't complain.

My forearms rested on his chest, my head only inches away from his. "I researched it—Xanax—treatment for anxiety . . . you have anxiety . . . or panic attacks?"

He nodded slowly.

"And it causes the pounding in here." I placed my hand over his heart again.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"And you were supposed to take it tonight, but you were here?"

"Yes," he said again.

"What causes it?"

His eyes became uneasy, but he still answered. "I have flashbacks. Not just when I sleep. Sometimes things can set them off."

"Of that night?" I swallowed the knot in my throat. "Do
I
set it off?"

"No." He was quick to respond. "Not all." He placed his hand under my shirt, and started rubbing slow circles on my back. "And not just of that night," he continued. "Even stuff from when I was a kid that I'd suppressed. I'm still working through it, or trying, anyway."

"I'm so sorry," I told him.

He licked his lips. "Not at all your fault."

"Have you spoken to her—Megan?"

He inhaled sharply. "No. I know she's okay, that's all that matters. But I don't want to see her, not until I get my shit together."

"I get that."

"Any more questions?" He smiled at me. Those damn dimples. My fingers traced the dips. His eyes drifted shut. "I missed you so much," he said.

I wanted to tell him that I missed him, too. Every day. But it wouldn't heal us completely. It wouldn't change the past.

My gaze caught on his tattoo and my fingers moved on their own, tracing the words. When did he get it? I wish I could've waited until he was ready, but the words were out before I could stop them. "What does your tattoo mean?"

He threaded his fingers through my hair and moved it away from my face. "It means
shadow passes, light remains.
You're my light, Amanda. In a life full of shadows, and darkness, and monsters, you're my light. When the blackness fades, and the memories subside, you'll be there. You're always there." The corners of his lips lifted. "You know, the first time I saw you at Jake's, at the wake—that's what I called you. In the most horrible of circumstances, that's what you were to me—a light in the darkness. That's what you became, and that’s what you stayed. In my head. In my heart.
My light
. Forever."

My heart beat out of my chest. I wanted to pick it up and hand it to him, tell him that it belonged to him, and that I had no right to possess it.

But I couldn't do that. So I did the one thing I could do.

I kissed him.

And just like the very first time, and all of the times after that, I lost myself in his touch, and in his kiss. I completely lost myself in Logan Matthews.

I didn't want the kissing to lead to somewhere it wasn't supposed to go, and even though I felt him hard against my stomach, he must've felt the same way, because we pulled apart after a few minutes. He licked his lips and moaned in approval. I moved to get off him, but he held me there. "Stay right here, please?"

"Am I not hurting you?"

"No," he said quietly. "You're healing me."

Logan

She wasn't in bed when I woke up. A panic settled at the pit of my stomach. I kept my eyes shut, not wanting reality to set in, but then I heard movement and her footsteps coming closer. I prayed that this wasn't one of my usual dreams. Last night felt too real. I think I'd die if it wasn't.

I felt the bed dip and her fingertips on my cheeks. Only then did I feel it safe enough to open my eyes. She hovered above me, her hair curtaining her face.

"Hey handsome," she greeted me. It made me smile like an idiot. Her smile matched mine, and her fingers poked my cheeks. "I missed these dimples.

Pulling her down and under the sheets with me, I whispered in her ear, "I wanted to tell you something last night, but things got a little . . . um . . . out of hand?"

She giggled into my chest and wrapped her arms and legs around me, getting as close as she could get. "Yeah? What's that?"

I lifted her face and kissed her on her lips quickly. Once. Twice. A trillion times over. I couldn't get enough. She laughed into my mouth. Then I said it. "Happy three-year anniversary."

"No way!" She pushed against my chest. "You remembered?"

"Of course I remembered." I kissed her again. "How could I forget the day I found my person?"

***

She wanted to take all the glass vials with her. I didn't argue. They were hers, anyway.

The smell of coffee wafting in from the kitchen convinced her to stay a little while longer. We walked in, hand in hand, just as Dad rushed in to gather his things. He tried to hide his smile, but it was clearly impossible for him.

"Morning," he greeted Amanda and kissed her on the cheek.

"Hands off my woman," I joked.

Amanda laughed. "Woman need coffee from crazy caveman."

Dad chuckled and shook his head as he left the room.

I rubbed my hands together. "Looks like it's just you and me. What ever shall we do?"

She leaned her back on the counter and crossed her arms. "I told you. Your woman needs coffee. Get on it."

"Jeez," I rolled my eyes. "No wonder they call you Demander."

Of course I did what she asked. She still had my balls in her pockets.

After handing her a coffee, I placed my arms on the counter, on either side of her. "I wish we could spend the day together." I sounded like a desperate asshole of the extremely whipped variety but I didn't care, it was the truth.

She took a sip of her coffee and set it back on the counter, and then brought me closer with her arms around my neck. "I know, me too." She sighed. "But I have classes, and then I have to work."

"Tomorrow?"

She grimaced. "Classes and then gym."

"You can't skip gym?" I started kissing her neck. "I'm sure we could find a way to work out together."

She started to laugh, a low build-up from deep in her throat. "I can't. I have self-defense classes."

I pulled back. "So that's how you learnt to attack me."

She nodded, grinning as she did.

"Well, I'm glad you can hold your own." I kissed her again. I could kiss her my entire damn life and it wouldn't be enough. "Can I come with you?"

Her eyes widened. "You want to?"

"I'll do anything to spend even a second of my time with you."

She smiled. And it was all I ever wanted.

I kissed her again.

And again.

And then some more.

Over and over.

17

Logan

I walked over to her car when I saw it pull into the gym parking lot. She stepped out, one tanned leg first, then the other. All leg, upon leg, upon leg. It's all I could see. Leg. Then she came to stand. Her gym shorts barely covered her ass. Her tight tank . . . I don't even know. Words can't—they don't—

"Hey," she said, her smile huge.

I couldn't speak. All functioning neurons fled my brain and travelled straight to my dick. I didn't even know how I ended up with my body pressed against hers, pushing her into her car and kissing her like she was my oxygen, my water, my food, my goddamn everything.

She laughed into my mouth and tried to pull away.

No.

Just no.

I needed more of her. I'd missed her so much in the day we were apart.

Somehow, I managed to pull her off the car long enough to open the back door and get us both inside.

She laughed again. "Logan, what are you doing?"

"Shh," I told her. My tongue swept into her mouth, and my hand went to her breast. She gripped my wrist and then laughed. Hard. "It's the middle of the day. Control yourself."

I grunted.

She laughed again.

I pounded my chest with my fist. Then in a low caveman voice, said, "Me, Logan need his woman. Woman look too damn sexy."

She laughed. But then her eyes darkened. She shifted until she was straddling my waist. I don't think either of us noticed how uncomfortable we were in the tiny space. She ran her top teeth against her bottom lip. Her hand moved down and rubbed my hard-on over my shorts, her fingers curling around it. "Mm," she moaned. "Looks like caveman Logan is happy to see me."

I chewed my lip and nodded. Her hands flattened under my shirt onto my bare stomach. She kissed my neck, moving her tongue in slow circles, so fucking slowly. It made me insane. Her hands went lower, and lower, until they were under the band of my shorts. "I wonder if caveman Logan would be happy to
feel
me."

My dick twitched.

She kissed me once. "Too bad we have to get to that class."

Then she was off me, out of the door and walking towards the gym entrance.

"Blue balls!" I yelled out.

Fuck.

***

When my dick had finally settled down, I went inside the gym. She sat at a table opposite the juice bar with a smug look on her face.

I shook my head at her. She laughed at me.

The guy that was there the day Amanda decided to go kamikaze on my entire body was her instructor. Of course he was.

"Jordan," he said as he shook my hand. I didn't miss his extra strong grip, and his over cockiness as he watched Amanda talking to some girls. "So that's your thing, huh?" he asked, lifting his chin at me. "You get girl’s numbers at the gym after pretending they hurt you?"

Fucking. Asshole. "Not at all what happened, but maybe you should watch your mouth."

He let go of my hand so he could raise his arms in surrender. "Buddy," he said. I wasn't his fucking buddy. "It's all good. I'm just messing with you."

And that's what he decided to do for the entire session: mess with me.

"Logan has volunteered to be the attacker," he announced. I hadn't, but what-the-fuck ever. I wasn't going to let him win. He watched me with amusement in his eyes and a smug smile that matched Amanda's earlier one.

I squared my shoulders and stood next to him. Amanda grinned at me.

"Who wants to be first defender?" Jordan asked.

All at once, every single girl in the room raised their hands.

Amanda's face changed instantly. It seemed like she simultaneously glared at each of them, one by one. Her glare seemed to intensify when her eyes landed on me, and my newly developed smirk.

One girl stepped forward. She was hot. The Heidi kind of hot. She wasn't Amanda, so she wasn't my type. "I'll go first," she informed. She stood in front of me with her back turned and pressed against me. Then she grabbed my arm and placed it over her shoulder. I chanced a peek at Amanda. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed to slits.

I couldn't help the grin that took over. "Blue balls," I mouthed at her.

Her eyes widened. She got my message. Payback was a bitch.

For the next twenty minutes I let girls beat on me, all the while watching Amanda's unamused reaction to it all. It was good times—until it was her turn.

I ended up limping away from the class.

I couldn't be mad. I deserved it.

***

She sat at a small table opposite the juice bar while I got us some drinks.

"Hi, Logan." I heard from next to me. "Do you remember me?"

The girl looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. "I'm sorry," I told her. I spent my freshman year screwing around, so it wouldn't surprise me at all if she'd been a one night stand.