More Than Him (29 page)

She kissed me softly. "I love you so much, Logan."

And just like when I dreamt it, her voice, her words replayed in my head, over and over until sleep consumed me.

***

"Wake up," she whispered against my lips. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the morning light. She hovered above me on her hands and knees, her hair loose and curtaining her face.

I lifted my hand to move it so I could see her clearly. "Jesus Christ . . ."

"Why are you smiling like that?"

I hadn't realized I was. "I'm just happy."

"Why?"

"Because." I paused, searching for the right words. Moving her to the side of me, I kissed each of her wrists. "Because you're here. You're real. And you're mine."

She grinned from ear to ear. "I have a present for you."

"What?" I reared back.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, not really a present. But . . ." She sat up and reached over to the nightstand and came back with a plate. Five cupcakes. Two with candles. "I missed out on your last birthday, and you didn't get cake the birthday before. So . . ." Her voice was strained as she lit the candles. "Happy birthday, baby. I love you."

I sat up, so we were face to face. I couldn't tear my eyes off her if I’d tried. I took my time, wanting to remember this moment. Savor it. Because ten, twenty, thirty years from now—when I told our kids the moment I knew my nightmares were over, and that my dreams had come true—I'd have every detail clear.

"Babe." She smiled softly. "The candles are going to burn out. You need to make a wish and blow them out."

I didn't need to wish for anything. I had everything I’d ever needed right in front of me. "I love you," I told her, before taking a deep breath and exhaling.

Licking the icing off one, I asked, "Why five cupcakes?"

"Oh." She shrugged. "Two are for me."

My eyebrows bunched. "And the other one?"

Her smile grew. "That's for this." And faster than I thought possible, she'd picked it up and smeared it all over my face. I froze. My body had not yet caught up with my mind. Her giggles got louder and louder.

"You are in so much trouble," I deadpanned, throwing the covers off me and lunging for her. Her high-pitched squeal filled the room, but it was cut off quickly enough when I pinned her body with mine against the floor.

She licked the icing off my face. "Mm," she hummed.

My nose scrunched. "That's kind of gross." I laughed. "I have another place you could lick it off." And like an asshole, I thrust my dick into her leg.

Her eyes widened. "That, Mr. Matthews, is an amazing idea."

And that's how we spent the next two hours. Licking icing off each other.

Best. Non. Birthday. Ever.

***

We were late showing up to Jake's. Who would have thought it would take so long to clean icing off naked bodies? Not that I was complaining. At all.

"So, you've missed out on Lucy versus Jess, Battle of the Brains." Cam laughed. They'd spent the last hour catching me up on shit that had happened the year I was away. It was just the gang, like I'd hoped. "So tell me about this so-called battle." I stretched my arms out and settled one behind Amanda's chair. Her lips turned up at the corners. She did this—noticed the little things I did that came naturally, and she took the time to appreciate them.

"She's a fucking whore," Lucy snapped.

We all laughed.

Cam began the story, "So, this girl is epic pissed at Luce because she's—without fail—top of the class—every time—which is right, because you know Luce, my girl’s wicked smart." He put on a Boston accent for the last two words, mimicking Good Will Hunting. "But this Jess girl—"

"Whore," Lucy cut in.

We laughed again.

"Anyway," Cam chuckled. "We were at this club a few months back—" "

Lucy intervened. "She's just a fucking whore, Logan. That's all you need to know. Whore. She's been boning the professor since freshman year. The dude's like fifty. It's fucking disgusting."

"Gross," Amanda said from next to me.

Cam laughed. "So Jess—"

"WHORE!" Lucy yelped.

Cam turned to her. "Baby, he gets it. She's a whore." Then he said to me, "So Jess—" He quickly moved to cover Lucy's mouth. "—is at this club, and she purposely spilt her drink all over Lucy. Of course, Lucy got pissed. Wait; she didn't just get pissed, or mad, she like,
erupted
."

Jake cut in, clicking his fingers in the air, and putting on a girl voice. "Twinkle twinkle little whore, close your legs they're not a door."

We all cracked up, including Lucy.

"She actually sang that one." Cam laughed again. He looked over at me. "She had her pinned against the wall, with her hands on her shoulders. Jess—"

"WHORE!"

Cam shook his head. "
Whore's
eyes were huge. She didn't think Lucy had it in her. Then Luce made some comment about
Whore's
breath smelling like wrinkly old-man ball sacs."

Amanda spat out her water, and then started choking on her laughter. I patted her back, but I couldn't hold it together, either.

Classic drunk Lucy was always the best.

"Wait," Micky shouted. "There was one more." She wiped at her eyes as she tried to level her breathing. "Oh, yeah! Did it hurt when you fell from the top of the slut tree and banged every gray-pubed geriatric dick on the way down?"

The roar of our laughter filled the yard.

Lucy just sat quietly with a smile on her face as she drank her beer. She saw me watching her and winked. Fuck, I’d missed her.

***

"Logan," Heidi called out from across the firepit. She didn't wait for conversation to die down. She just cut right in. Everyone turned to her. She hadn't said much during the night. I figured maybe she was embarrassed in front of Amanda for the way she’d treated her the last time we'd seen her, but looking at her now, she was beyond the buzzed state the rest of us were in. She was drunk, which was evident when she mumbled, "You ever think about what would've happened if you and I never broke up? We could've been good—you and me."

Her eyes were bloodshot, half hooded. She struggled to hold her head up.
I
struggled to answer. "Um, I think maybe—"

"I mean, I know we just fucked . . . a lot . . ."

Amanda tried to wriggle her hand out of my hold, but I tightened my grip. I felt her body move away, but I couldn't take my eyes of Heidi.

"And when I told you that I wanted to date another guy—Dylan." She rolled her eyes. "I thought you'd at least try to stop me, you know. I thought we had something good. Not just the sex."

Amanda tried again to remove her hand. I held onto it tighter still.

We all sat in silence, but Heidi kept going. "We could have worked. You and I could've been the hot power couple through high school, maybe even college. Then I wouldn't be some college junior whose boyfriend dumped her for the marines." She laughed once. "Remember how we'd lay naked in bed all day and teach each other
everything.
Those were good times, Logan. We should do it again sometime."

My eyebrows pinched. What the hell had happened to her while I was gone? It had to be more than just Dylan leaving.

Jake cut in. I'm glad he did, because I couldn't have formed words if I’d tried. "I think you've had enough to drink, Heids. Maybe it's time to call it a night."

I turned to face him.

"Yeah. You're right," Heidi agreed. "I've texted my friend. She's on her way."

I was too busy looking at Micky, who was frowning.

I followed her gaze.

Amanda.

Shit.

Amanda

I kept my head down, not wanting them to notice the stupid tears in my stupid eyes. Then I heard her speak, "Well, Logan, it was really nice seeing you again. I'm really glad you're home." I saw her feet stop in front of his from the corner of my eye. I still refused to look up. But then he released my hand that I'd been trying to withdraw, and the movements made me glance up at them.

And I wish that I hadn't.

Her arms were out, an invitation for a hug.

He stood up.

She placed her hands around his shoulders.

He wrapped his around her waist.

Then her fingers curled into his hair, bringing his face closer to hers.

And then their mouths connected.

She moaned.

Thump. Thump
.

And then nothing.

My eyes shut tight.

My stomach hit the floor.

My head dropped.

His voice broke through. "I'll walk you out," he said.

And then he was gone.

Seconds passed. It felt like hours.

"Amanda?" Micky crooned.

I lifted my eyes to her.

"She's not in a good way. She's been struggling with a lot of stuff lately. It doesn't mean anything. He didn't kiss her back."

I nodded once. It was all I could do.

Then I cleared my throat. "It doesn't matter." It really didn't. Because I was here, and he was with her.

32

Logan

I tried to take her hand when I got back, but she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down. I sighed, and moved so I could speak into her ear. "I didn't kiss her back, babe. I pulled away as soon as I knew what was happening."

"It doesn't matter," she said quietly, but refused to look at me. It did matter.
Obviously
, it mattered.

"Amanda," I tried again.

She chewed her lip, her exhale of breath causing it to quiver. I leaned in close and softly kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

She raised her hand and wiped at her eyes. "It's fine. We'll talk about it later, not here." Her voice broke.

So did my heart.

I pulled back, not knowing what else to do. I placed my hand on her leg, and watched as it began to tremble. She glanced at it quickly, before staring off into the distance.

She didn't cover it.

She didn't comfort me.

She didn't speak for the rest of our time there.

We said goodbye earlier than expected. It was awkward, not just for us, but for everyone.

I kept my hand on her leg on the drive home. It hadn't stopped trembling. She kept quiet, eyes fixed on the road in front of her.

I spoke first. "You obviously didn't see it, but I pushed her away as soon as—"

"I don't care about that," she cut in. She sounded sad, and tired. Maybe she was tired of me fucking up.

"Then what's wrong? Will you please talk to me?"

"If you don't know—"

"No. I'm sorry, but don't pull that,
if you don't know then I shouldn't have to tell you
shit. Obviously I don't know. You
need
to tell me."

She sighed, glancing at me quickly. "I don't know, Logan. It's not just about her kissing you. It's that you just let her sit there and talk about you guys like that. You didn't interrupt her; you didn't ask her to stop. Do you know how that made me feel? She was disrespecting me, and you didn't even care."

Shit.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

I got defensive. I don't know why. Maybe because I knew she was right, and I felt like an asshole. "Why didn't
you
say anything?"

She got louder. "Because she's your friend, Logan. Not mine."

"It's just stupid that we're arguing about this right now."

"You think my feelings are stupid?" she cried.

"That's not what I said."

"How the hell would you like it if Tyson sat in front of you and all of my friends and started talking about us, and how we used to
fuck."
She spat out the last word, wanting to hurt me.

It did.

I stayed silent.

"You think it would be okay if he told you about how he took my virginity? And that I had no idea what I was doing so he taught me everything, just the way he liked it? Maybe the things you like, that I do to you, are things he showed me." I felt the bile rise in my throat. I wanted to tell her to stop, but she kept talking. "You'd want to sit there and listen to how he used to sneak into my room at night so we could have sex? Or the times out in his car, when we had nowhere else to go? Or how about the first time we made each other co—"

"Stop!" It came out more forcefully than I’d intended, but I felt sick. Legit, sick to my stomach. I wanted to puke. "I get it, okay? Enough."

"You get it?" She laughed once. That bitter fucking laugh I hated so much. But it was different this time—quieter—as if she were still lost in her own thoughts. "That's not the point, Logan. The point is that I would never let him talk about that stuff. Not in front of our friends, and definitely not in front of you. And you know why?" It wasn't a question. "Because I respect you, and I respect us. And you—you didn't. You just let it happen. And then you left me sitting there, feeling disrespected and pathetic, while you walked her out of the house to make sure
she
was okay." She took a few calming breaths. "I hope she was okay, because
I
wasn't."

Finally, I found my voice. "What did you want me to do? I wanted to make sure she got in the car safe."

She shook her head. "She had four other friends there. If they didn't know to look out for her, you should have asked one of them to. You should've known how that would make me feel."

The worst part is—is that she wasn't angry. She just stared straight ahead, letting the tears fall silently. She didn't raise her voice. Maybe if she was angry, it wouldn't hurt so much. She was sad, upset, disappointed.

I'd fucking disappointed her.

I caught her eyes lower to my hand on her leg. It wasn't trembling anymore; now it was all-out uncontrollably shaking. My heart beat so hard against my chest, it made my ribs ache. I waited for her to cover it, or to hold it, maybe lift it and kiss my palm like she used to. But she didn't. Instead, I removed it from her leg, shook it out twice, and sat on it, hoping it might help.