Текст книги "Perfectly Damaged"
Автор книги: E. L. Montes
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
It’s becoming more and more difficult to concentrate in school. The voices are getting worse. I don’t know how to control them. Dinner with my parents is always bad. I can hear them chatting about their day, very distantly, but the voices are overpowering them too. It’s hard to even hear my own thoughts. Because of this, I’ve been excusing myself from dinner every night. I think Mom is catching on, though. She’s been watching me a bit more than usual.
Then there’s Eric. He has no idea what’s going on with me. I’m afraid to tell him. All of this is bottled up inside, and I’m going through it alone. I don’t know any other way. I keep lashing out at him, which isn’t fair, but I have no clue how to handle…whatever this is.
Why is this happening to me?
Earlier today, the voices were poking and prodding, yelling. Each day they’re getting louder and speaking faster. I sat on the edge of the sofa at Eric’s parents’ home. Eric rented a movie and ordered pizza for our date night while his parents were out.
He sat beside me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in closer to him. Usually, I’m a puddle of mush in his arms, but today I felt off about him. He was on the phone for a few seconds in the kitchen, whispering. When he came back to the couch and settled beside me, I tried not to let it get to me, but the voices were persistent. “Who were you on the phone with?” The question came out in a harsher and more demanding tone than I had intended.
He looked at me and shrugged a shoulder. “It was Jim. Why?”
“Jim?” I questioned.
Eric raised a brow. “Yeah, Jim. Is that a problem?”
“Yes. I know you’re lying.”
His eyes widened at the accusation. “Excuse me? Why on earth would I lie about being on the phone with Jim?”
Angry that he would lie to my face, I stood and pushed him away. “You were whispering in the kitchen, Eric.”
His features etched in confusion. He raised a hand, palm up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jenna. I wasn’t whispering.”
“Were you really talking to her?”
“Who?”
“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re keeping from me.”
He got to his feet and brought his hands to my shoulders. His body towered over me, and his eyes pierced into mine. “Jenna, listen to how you sound right now. What are you talking about? And who is ‘she?’”
“The other girl you’ve been screwing with!”
Shocked, he let go of me and took a step back. “You’re crazy.”
Then the voices began to chant his words over and over again.
You’re crazy, You’re psycho, You’re crazy, You’re psycho, You’re crazy, You’re psycho…
It repeated in my head, and it didn’t want to shut off. So I ran out of his house. I ran all the way home. I ran up the stairs into my room and climbed out the window onto the roof. Where I am now.
I wish Brooke were here and not away at college. I’m not sure if I’d tell her what’s going on with me, but at this moment, I need someone to talk to.
My thoughts are all I have and they’re the last things I want to keep me company. I’m a prisoner of my own mind, trapped with the unknown, angry voices.
chapter 8
Logan
The music and lyrics of my favorite band pounce through the speakers. I’m in a good mood for two reasons. One: I managed not to beat up my alarm clock this morning, so I woke up on time, which means I’ll be early for work. Two: Tonight is the first summer evening of our lake house party, and with every previous year being such a success, I have no doubt this year will be just the same, if not better. As always, the kick-off to the summer lasts an entire weekend. After the first summer bash, we throw a party every Saturday for the rest of the summer.
Twenty minutes away from the McDaniels’ home, I slowly brake as I approach an intersection. What the hell? Is that a girl sitting on the corner…in pajamas? This isn’t abnormal to me. Living in Philadelphia, I think I’ve seen it all. But here, in this neighborhood, it just strikes me as odd. I shrug it off, release my foot from the brake, and drive on. As I pass the intersection, my curiosity gets the best of me. Turning my head, I look out the window and have a much better view of the girl. It’s not just any girl—it’s Jenna. What is she doing out here this early in the morning?
She’s been crying. Again. I can tell by the black tearstains down her cheeks. For the second time in less than a week, I’ve found this girl in tears. She didn’t see me; she’s too busy staring blankly across the street. What should I do? Should I just keep going and act as if I didn’t see her? Or should I pull over, check up on her, and see if she’s okay or needs a lift?
I can’t keep going. It’ll fuck with my head all day.
I pull over by the curb. Placing the car in park, I adjust the rearview mirror and watch her for a bit. Maybe she’s waiting for someone. She doesn’t move; she just continues to lean against the street sign and stare straight ahead. I look out the driver side to see what’s so interesting. It’s just a house. Another look in the rearview shows me she’s still there, unmoving. I’m a half hour early. Maybe I can see if she needs a lift. Before exiting the car, I reach into the glove compartment and remove a few napkins left over from some fast food drive-thru trips. I step out of the truck and slowly walk over to her.
Jenna doesn’t move when I step up beside her. She’s lost in her own head, not even realizing I’m here. I sit down beside her, a foot away. I don’t want to scare her, so I don’t say anything. Instead I just watch her. It’s as if she’s hypnotized. She doesn’t move or speak or blink. If it weren’t for the up and down, even chest movements, I would think she wasn’t breathing. There’s that and the tears roaming freely down her cheeks. Yeah, she’s definitely alive. Did some guy break her heart? Was it that Matthew guy? What could cause her to be this sad? Within a heartbeat I reach out, placing the napkin in her view. Her features quickly change from vacant to confused. She snaps out of her trance, tossing her head back and away from the napkin. Her eyes follow my hand, up my arm, and then land on my face. I give her a slight grin and a one-shoulder shrug to say, “Hey,” but her features turn angry.
“What are you doing here?” she snaps.
Maybe I caught her off guard. “I saw you sitting here when I was driving by. I thought maybe—”
“You thought maybe I’m crazy, right? Is that what it is?” she asks as she shuffles to her feet.
Confused, I shake my head and look up at her. “No, I thought maybe you needed a lift or…” Fuck. Should I have kept on driving?
Jenna fidgets and digs a hand into her hair. “You look at me and you see that, right?” She points across the street at the house she’s been staring at for God knows how long. I look back at her. What should I do or say? Is she having a girl breakdown right now? How do people handle shit like this?
I stand but keep my distance. I don’t want to set her off. Maybe she just needs to get some stuff off her chest. I remain quiet, silently giving her permission to go on. She turns away from me, faces the home, reaches her hands out, and points at each item she describes. “It’s flawless on the outside. Every brick neatly stacked, every corner properly secured. Every shutter handpicked. Every rose planted in its rightful place. It’s fucking perfect. But what happens when the walls can no longer hold up, when they can no longer contain all the demons inside? Do they just explode from the pressure, finally setting free everything that’s been imprisoned inside?”
She turns to face me. Her brows draw closer and her face tightens as she shrugs her shoulders. “Or do they crumble into dust, taking all of the secrets, all of the monsters hidden within, everything—including the truth—down with them?”
Wow. Before me stands a girl who seems to be dealing with more issues than just a broken heart. I give it my best shot. “Jenna, I think you have to decide whether to let it break free or bury it. If you want it to break free, you just have to let go and allow it to. What’s the worst that can happen?”
She shakes her head. “No. Not when you’re not normal.”
“No one’s normal.” I raise my arms and gesture at myself while holding her gaze. “Take me for instance. I’m far from normal.”
She carefully scans her eyes over me as one hand fidgets at the edge of her camisole. Her other hand combs through her hair as she asks, “Oh. How so?”
Shit. I toss my hand in the air, blurting out, “I take people for granted all the time. I’m a loose cannon. I take advantage of girls, who I’m sure don’t deserve it. But I’m a dick, so I don’t give a shit half the time.” I walk in closer to her, and she doesn’t move, which is a good thing. “I’ve been walking around trying to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, but instead of actually doing something, I stand around and sulk about it.” I have no fucking clue why I’m telling her all of this, but I keep going. “Ever since my brother, Sean, passed away a couple years ago, I’ve been at a standstill, just waiting for something to happen.”
“Like what?” she asks in soft voice, and I notice that her eyes have softened dramatically.
“Life. I’m waiting for my life to happen, but I’m not actually doing anything about it.” Whoa. I didn’t even realize I felt this way. I mean, sure, it’s been stuck in my head, but I’ve never said it out loud. I don’t know what to make out of this.
“Oh.” She breathes out, looking down at the ground. Her arms rest languidly at her side as she stands there quietly.
“The point is, Jenna, no one is normal or perfect like that house you see across the street. Everyone suffers from their own struggles, whether they’re big or small. There’s no such thing as having a flawless life.”
With her head bowed, she whispers, “Not according to my mother.”
I suck my teeth. “Well, no offense to you or your mother, but she obviously doesn’t know shit.”
A soft chuckle escapes her. She’s actually laughing. It’s a soft laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. Jenna looks up at me, and her moist cheeks slightly lift as a small smile spreads across her delicate features. “You should do that more often,” I say.
Baffled, she asks, “What?”
“Smile. It looks good on you.” And just like that it disappears. Her eyes tear away from mine to look anywhere else but at me. It’s like smiling is frowned upon or illegal or some shit. I shift uncomfortably. “Want a lift home?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want to go home.”
I look around. It’s just the two of us out here, but I don’t want anyone seeing her like this. “Would you like me to drive you anywhere? I don’t mind.”
“No. Well…” she hesitates. “Do you think I can use your phone to call Charlie? I mean if you have one, of course.”
“Yeah, of course.” I dig into my jean pocket and remove my cell, reaching out to hand it to her. She grabs it and turns her back to me. Seconds later, she has my phone against her ear and she’s talking to her friend. I wait patiently as Jenna tells Charlie where she’s located, and then she ends the call.
Jenna turns back around and hands over my cell. “Thank you. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
I take a look at the time. I have ten minutes before my shift starts. There goes being early. “I’ll wait with you.”
“Oh no, it’s fine. Please, I’ll be okay.”
I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave a girl by the corner alone. I mean I can be a dick sometimes, sure, but my mother taught me some manners, dammit. I walk to the corner and sit on the curb. “Nah. Like I said, I’ll wait with you.”
“Okay.” She takes a seat beside me. I hand her the napkins in my hand again. This time she takes them.
“Thanks.” She wipes her cheeks.
“No problem,” I say. And then it’s quiet, too quiet. I clap my hands together and rest my elbows on my knees. “So what were you doing out here?”
“I went for a run.”
I look at her, flashing a half smile. “You usually run in socks and pajama pants?”
“I just needed to get away.”
My smile falters. “Can I ask you something?” She nods at me. “Without you getting offended?” She scowls, hesitant at first, but then she relaxes and nods again. “Why did your friend say you’re not too keen on hanging out with us guys at the party this weekend? Is it because we’re not on the same level as you are?”
“Same level?”
“Yeah, you know, wealth, education, shit like that.”
“W-what? No. That has nothing to do with it. I just don’t know you guys and to spend an entire weekend with strangers is not very safe, in my opinion as a woman.”
I nod, understanding. Well at least I think I do. “Oh. So you won’t be going?”
“No. I’m sorry. No offense or anything, it’s just not my scene. The partying, drinking, and socializing…all of it, it’s just not me.”
“It’s more than just that. It’s a chance to escape, to be free for a couple days.” I shake my head, remembering the memories of the past few years. “I guess because I grew up at the lake house, it’s a bit more than just a party place to me. Look, all I’m saying is if you need a break from your own head, the lake house is probably the best place to go. So if you end up changing your mind, you’re more than welcome to come.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Just as I’m about to ask another question, her friend pulls up. Jenna stands and dusts herself off hastily, walks over to the car, and jumps in the passenger side. After buckling her seatbelt, she looks out the window at me. I sweep my hand up and wave at her once. She waves back with a small grin on her face, and I think she mouths, “Thank you,” before the car pulls away.
* * *
“Are you kidding me, Logan?” Uncle George yells out. Yep, I’m late—by fifteen minutes, to be exact. Fuck my life. I walk past him, ignoring his glare. I grab my tool belt and wrap it around my waist. I nod at Santino who flicks his brows up in return. His expression is scared shitless for me. “Logan!” I take a deep breath.
“Yeah, George?” I ask, turning to face my uncle.
“Get over here. Now.” He points a finger down.
So I’m going to get fired today. Sweet. Fired on a day that I was planning to be in early, a day that I woke up early for. The same day I tried to be a nice guy and help a girl out.
I approach him as he scowls at me something brutal. I’ve seen this look before, plenty of times, especially when I was a kid and got in trouble with Bryson and Sean. “Give me a damn good reason why I shouldn’t let your ass go right now!”
I straighten my shoulders. “Because I was doing a good deed.”
“And what was that? Screwing a girl you met at a bar, who may or may not have some type of STD?”
I tighten my jaw. “No. Helping a girl who was stranded a few blocks away from here.”
“And what makes you think I’d believe that bullshit?”
I shrug. “It’s the truth. You can accept it and allow me to get to work, or don’t and let me go.”
His eyes narrow. “Get your ass to work. But the next time you’re late—”
“I know. I’m fired,” I finish for him. Then I turn and walk toward the rest of guys, breathing a small sigh of relief as I go.
chapter 9
Jenna
“Charlie, I asked if you could pack a bag for me, not bring along my entire closet.” I grunt as I drag my large suitcase up her stairs.
“Well, I wanted you to have options.” She shrugs.
“Thanks,” I sass. I do appreciate that she took the time to pack my things. There was no way I could stay in my house tonight. My mother would’ve driven me beyond mad. Thankfully, Charlie stayed after I ran off, waiting for me to come back. When she pulled up at the corner where Logan and I sat, I felt a huge sense of relief, but I also had to explain to her why Logan was there with me.
I lug my suitcase into her room, shutting the door behind me. Charlie sits down on her desk chair and stares expectantly at me. “What?” I ask.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on between you and this guy?”
I roll my eyes. “There’s nothing going on. I don’t even know Logan. He’s just a guy who works for my parents that just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.” I tread over to her bed; tossing myself backward, I land on top of her pink sheets and comforter. I’m exhausted. This has been the morning from hell.
“He seems to be arriving at the right place at the right time if you ask me.”
“No one’s asking you. Seriously, can we drop this? My morning has been rough enough.”
“Fine.” She taps her nails hard once on her desk, and then huffs. “You know what? No, it’s not fine. Come on, Jenna. He pulled you out of the pool.” I wish I never told her about that. Thank God I didn’t tell her about the damn kiss. “Then I found the two of you in the shed, practically eye fucking each other. And this morning he just happens to be there after your mom goes into bitch mode and practically runs you out of the house?” I stare at the ceiling fan with no strength to fight back.
“We were not eye fucking,” I respond lamely.
She snorts. “Whatever. If I didn’t interrupt, I would’ve orgasmed with the stare the two of you were giving one another. That’s not the point.” Her chair squeaks. Five footsteps and a dip in the bed later, she’s lying beside me and staring at the ceiling fan as well. “There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun,” she says softly.
“I don’t want to have fun. I don’t need to have fun. I’m happy not having any fun at all. You remember what happened when Brooke wanted to have a little fun?” I ask, deadpan.
“Low blow, Jenna. Low. Fucking. Blow.” It takes a lot to make Charlie upset, and I just did. I feel terrible. She shifts to move off the bed, but I grab her arm and bring her back down, all the while keeping my eyes glued to the ceiling.
“I’m sorry. It was a low blow,” I say.
Her heavy sigh fills the air between us. “It’s fine. I just thought this party might help get you out of that shell of yours. Loosen up a bit. Be free. But I understand why you wouldn’t want to go. It’s still too soon. I’m a terrible friend for even thinking it would help. So…I’m sorry.”
Be free. Logan’s words repeat in my head. It’s more than just that. It’s a chance to escape, to be free.
I want that. I really do, more than anything. I need a chance to just clear my mind, to relax without a worry in the world. A chance to break away from any thoughts of my mother, from any memories of Brooke. For just one day, at least, I want to be free.
“You’re not a terrible friend, far from it. You’re just looking out. And you know what? You’re actually right. I need to let go a bit, be able to have some fun. I’m entitled to have fun. So all right, Charlie. Let’s go.” I can’t believe I just said that out loud.
Charlie instantly sits herself up on her elbows. “All right?”
“Yes. All right.”
“Eeeek! All right!” she squeals. Charlie jumps to her feet and starts bouncing happily on the bed.
* * *
The rest of the morning, Charlie and I shopped. Somehow she managed to drag me to the mall, much to my dismay. When she texted Santino to ask if we should bring anything to the party, he seemed extremely excited to hear that she was going. I’m sure he expects her to give him a little extra attention tonight.
After our shopping, she packed her luggage, and then we were on the road. Santino told her the guys were only working a half day and should be at the lake house by two this afternoon. She’s been in la-la land all morning since I agreed to go. Now that we’re actually on our way, my anxiety wants me to tell her to turn the car back around, that I’ve changed my mind. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for taking away her excitement. To be fair, she hasn’t been out since Brooke’s been gone. It didn’t occur to me until now that Charlie needs this as much as she thinks I do.
“You look cute, by the way,” she says, taking a peek at me from the driver seat.
I look down, examining my attire. “I’m wearing jean shorts and a black cami. There’s nothing cute about it.”
She continues to smile brightly. Not even my depressing mood swings can bring her down. “Still, your hair and makeup are done. I’ve always said it’s not the wardrobe but the hair and makeup that should always be stunning. So, like I said, you look cute.”
“You insisted I do them. I’m not sure why I listened.”
Charlie turns to look at me again, and her eyes pop wide in warning. What did I do? She reaches out and swats at my hand, which is pressed against my cheek. “Stop biting the inside of your cheek. You do that when you’re nervous. Are you nervous right now?”
I didn’t realize I was doing it. I unclamp my teeth from the hold on my inner cheek. “No. I’m just…I don’t know.” I slam my head back twice in frustration. “I’m thinking, that’s all.”
“About what?” She looks straight ahead as she steers.
“About what you said, about Logan and me. For some reason I feel uncomfortable when he’s around me.”
“A bad uncomfortable or good uncomfortable?”
I adjust in the seat, admiring her profile. Charlie is beautiful, yes, but she’s also so strong, so confident. I wish I had at least an ounce of the courage she has. “What does it matter? I’m just uncomfortable.”
“Well, a good comfortable means you’re just a bit nervous around him because maybe you feel something for him—more than knowing that he’s just the guy who’s working for your parents. A bad uncomfortable means you’re afraid to be around him, that he makes you nervous in a bad way, like he could possibly harm you.”
I take in what she just said. “No. I don’t get the feeling he’d harm me.”
“Okay. Good. Because if you felt that way, I’d turn this car around and go back home.”
I smile. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course. I would never place you in a dangerous situation. You know that, right?” She glances over, waiting for me to agree. I nod. “Good.” Charlie focuses back on the road. I know she wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. I lean my head back against the headrest, feeling a bit more at ease, and listen to Charlie chat away for the rest of the ride.
Two hours later, according to our navigation system, we’ve reached our destination. I straighten in the passenger seat. Charlie drives down a long dirt path, which is supposed to lead us to the lake house. I look around, taking in the beauty of the outdoors. Who knew nature could create such perfection? It’s like a work of art. Trees of all different colors and textures surround us, and the sun shines down in patches on the leaves and plants covering the forest floor. It’s stunning, peaceful. I roll down the passenger window and lean my head out to catch the warm breeze on my skin and in my hair. Breathing feels effortless here. It doesn’t feel like a task or a struggle.
Light strokes of the wind brush my face. I shut my eyes and continue to just…breathe, letting the alluring sounds of nature fill my ears. It’s quiet, like the only sounds in the world are the ones around me: leaves lightly rustling against one another in the breeze, buzzing of early summer insects, and birds chirping merrily. I haven’t even seen the house or the lake yet, but right now, at this very moment, I feel at peace. I feel safe. It’s the strangest sensation. So much time has passed since I’ve experienced it, it feels abnormal, yet right at the same time. I wish I could freeze this moment and stay here forever.
“We’re here!” Charlie lets out a squeal. Her car comes to an abrupt stop, jerking me forward in my seat. I flash my eyes open as I throw my arms out against the dash. Wow. The lake house is much more than I pictured. I expected a tiny cottage—which would be fine—but I didn’t expect this. A large two-story cabin sits proudly in a grassy clearing before us. The tall glass windows, wrapped around both the lower and upper levels, provide a perfect view of the inside. Just behind the home is the lake, encircled by tall trees.
Charlie and I exit the car. I stand just outside the passenger side with the door wide open, taking it all in. I hear the trunk open and close before Charlie interrupts my reverie. “Hey, want to help me out over here?” I turn around and see her struggling to roll both pieces of our luggage on the dirt driveway.
“We’ll help out with those,” Bryson calls out as he and Santino jog over.
“See you guys found your way,” Santino says with a smile as he grabs a suitcase. Bryson grabs the other.
“Yeah. The GPS took us the long route, but we eventually made it,” Charlie says, stretching her limbs. We’re both a little achy from the three-hour drive.
Bryson smiles modestly. “I should have told you there was construction on the main road so it would reroute you a different way. Sorry.”
Charlie waves her hand. “No worries. It was great bonding time. Wasn’t it, Jenna?”
“Yeah.” I shut the car door.
Bryson jerks his head toward the house. “Well, let me show you guys where you’ll be staying.”
Charlie runs up between Santino and Bryson and starts chatting away as I follow closely behind. We reach the front porch and enter the home. It’s exactly what you’d hope a lake house would be like: open, airy, and bright. The oversized sectional and two recliners in the living area give the space a more masculine look. There’s no art on the wall, but there are a few large collage frames hanging over to one side, which I’m guessing are filled with family photos.
We follow the guys up the stairs and into one of the five bedrooms with two twin beds. They place our luggage down. “This is where you girls will be staying. I hope it’s okay?” Bryson asks.
I slowly whirl around, meeting him eye to eye. “Yes. It’s perfect, thank you.”
He nods once. “All right. We’ll let you girls get settled in.” He glances at his watch. “It’s only six. We have food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. People will start arriving around eight.”
“It’ll be fun, girls,” Santino says to us, but his focus is entirely on Charlie who’s by the door, smiling flirtatiously in return. Bryson grips Santino by the shoulder and hauls him out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
I let out a large huff. “What are we doing here?”
Charlie gives me a distraught look and then places both hands to her hips. Here comes dramatic Charlie. “What do you mean by ‘What are we doing here?’ You said it was okay, that we should come. Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”
“It just feels bizarre. Earlier today I had an argument with my mother, an episode. Now I’m here, standing in a room at a lake house that’s owned by the contractors working for my parents.” I toss a hand in the air. “None of that strikes you as odd? Not even a little bit?”
Charlie drops her arms, walks over, and grips my biceps. “Odd? No. Exciting? Yes. Loosen up a bit.” She shimmies my arms. “Tonight will be fun. I promise. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning if you’re still feeling this way.”
I raise a brow in question. “Promise?”
She brings a hand to her chest. “Promise.”
“Okay, let’s go downstairs, then.”
“Attagirl!”
* * *
Charlie and I are introduced to the other three guys—Justin, Danny, and Scott—who are also working on the guesthouse for my parents. They seem like nice guys, though I can’t help but notice that Logan isn’t around. No one has mentioned him, and I don’t want to seem interested, so I leave it at that. We’re all sitting around the kitchen table and the guys are telling us how these summer parties of theirs work.
“And you have one every weekend for the entire summer?” Charlie asks, very entertained by their stories.
Bryson answers, “Pretty much. We started seven years ago for my twenty-first birthday and it’s been a thing ever since.” He takes a sip of his beer. All the guys and Charlie are drinking already. I’m sure I’ll be babysitting her the rest of the night.
“When’s your birthday?” I ask.
He looks at me from across the table and his face lights up with a huge grin. “Tomorrow, actually.”
Charlie leans over the table, her breasts practically spilling out of her low-cut shirt. “Na-uh. Shut up!” He laughs at her and nods. “Well, happy birthday! We have to do something special for you.”
I roll my eyes, shake my head, and look toward the living area just as the front door swings open. Logan steps in, wiping the dirt of his shoes along the welcome rug. My heart does a backflip and starts crashing around in my chest. I saw him this morning. He saw me this morning. I feel embarrassed now. The way I looked. The way I acted. He witnessed all of it.
“Logan, my man.” Santino jumps up from the chair beside Bryson and spreads his arms, greeting Logan.
Logan nods at Santino and heads over to us. My face heats up and I avert my eyes. Can anyone hear my heartbeat right now? It’s so loud.
“Hey, guys.” He looks around the table, and I gaze up at him just as his eyes land on me. A shocked expression appears on his masculine features, and then he relaxes with a smile. “Glad you ladies could make it.”
“Thanks. Logan, right?” Charlie asks.
“Yeah, it’s Logan. Not Lance. Just Logan.” He grins at me.
Oh. My. God. Did anyone else catch that? I look around furtively. No one’s paying attention, thank God. My chest expands in relief.
Logan walks over to the fridge, right behind where Charlie is seated, and pulls out a beer. “What time you guys get here?” He shuts the fridge, turns around, and looks at Santino and Bryson, waiting for a response from them as he chugs down a beer.
Santino scratches the back of his head. “Um, around five. Right?” He looks over to Bryson for confirmation.
“Yeah, man, around five. My father keep you late?” Bryson asks.
Logan leans against the kitchen counter beside the fridge. I look down at my half-empty glass of water. This clear glass is quite interesting all of a sudden. “Yep,” Logan replies, popping the P.
Santino laughs. “Well, what did you expect? You knew that bullshit lie about helping a stranded girl on the street wasn’t gonna fly with your uncle. You should’ve just said you slept in. I think he’d respect that a bit more.”
My heart just dropped. The stranded girl is me. I’m the girl he pulled over for this morning. I’m the girl he waited patiently with until Charlie arrived. I think I’m going to be sick. I look up at Charlie. She glances at me with a concerned look and flicks her brows as if asking, “Are you okay?” I nod and stand quickly, trying to keep calm. “Excuse me. I have to use the bathroom.”
