Текст книги "More Than Her"

Автор книги: Jay McLean

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More Than Her

Copyright © 2013 Jay Mclean

Published by Jay Mclean

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Published: Jay McLean November 2013

Cover Design: by Ari at Cover it! Designs: http://www.coveritdesigns.net

08Fall08Fall

08

Fall

08

Fall

Dedication

 

To my readers, turned friends, turned family.

Thank you for your encouragement, support and belief in me.

I would be nowhere without you.

I more than a lot love you.

So much more than a lot.

Truth.

PROLOGUE

-Past-

End of Summer Party, Pre-College

 

"What the hell just happened?" Cam said.

"Dude, I have no fucking idea."

Micky's ex just proposed and they both left the party. Jake was on his phone calling a cab before anyone could talk sense into him.

The rest of us sat back down, dumbstruck. I kept looking around for her. Hopefully she was okay, and she wasn't going to marry that guy; He was an asshole and she deserved better than someone who was going to treat her like shit.

"You worried about her?"

I slowly turned to face Cam who was sitting a few feet from me, his legs straight out in front of him and crossed at his ankles. He looked me curiously, eyebrows drawn together.

"Yeah, I am." I said, looking straight at him. I almost felt like I knew what was going to happen next. I subconsciously sat up and straightened my shoulders, waiting for the challenge, because I knew what his next question was. When he asked it, I was prepared.

"You love her, don't you?"

And even though I was expecting it, hearing him say the actual words was like a kick in the gut. I watched him, looking for any sign of what his judgment might be when I told him the truth. "Yeah, man. I think I do."

He stared at me for what felt like hours, but it was only seconds. Then he blew out a breath, pulled the cap off his head, ran his hand through his hair and replaced it.

"Yeah," he sighed out. "Me too."

"What?!" I almost yelled. I looked over to where Lucy was standing, only a few feet away from us, making sure she hadn't heard what her dick of a boyfriend had just said.

"Me too," he repeated. I glared at him. "I mean, not the love love way. Not the way I love Lucy."

I continued to gape at him, confused as all hell. He kept going. "Micky—she's one of us now, and I get that you feel something for her. It would be hard not to, especially after what she's been through. But I don't think you love her. Not in that way. I think you love her the same way that you love Lucy, or Heidi. Kind of like a sister, like you want to keep them safe, protect them, you know? Or at least ... I mean, if anything were to happen to me, I'd want you to be that way with Lucy." He paused. "I'm not making any sense am I?"

I slowly shook my head no.

He blew out another long breath, then sat up in his chair a little and looked up at the sky, thinking about his next words. After a little while, he faced me.

"Has Lucy ever told you how we met?" His eyes quickly went to Lucy, who was standing by a cooler, talking to a few girls.

"She just said you helped coach her little brothers, and that after her mom died you started coming round to help out."

His eyes came back to me. "That's what she thinks ... I actually noticed her the first time I saw her. She was in the stands with a couple of her brothers. I remember seeing her for the first time. She had a book in one hand and the other was constantly attending to one or more of the boys." He chuckled a little. "They were always bugging her for something and getting in her face, but she never took her eyes off the book. And I remember just standing there watching her for pretty much the entire game. I mean, I'd seen her at school a few times, always thought she was kind of cute, you know? The quiet kind of cute."

I nodded my head in agreement. She was that kind of cute.

"The first week, I said nothing to her. And the weeks after that, and every day at school, I tried to talk to her, but I'd be a nervous wreck, you know? And it was so weird because in every other aspect of my life I was this cocky asshole, standard semi-popular jock. Here I was getting wound up over some quiet bookworm I'd never spoken to before.

"So a few weeks passed and I remember looking in the mirror one day, keep in mind I was like, fifteen at the time, and I remember saying to myself 'Today is the day. You will talk to her.' When I got to the field I expected to see her in the stands, but she wasn't there, and neither were her brothers, and that was the day I found out about her mom. The cancer, and the dying, well, by then, it was the death.

I continued to listen, taking in everything he had to say.

"I went to the funeral and just watched her. She sat at the front of the plot, surrounded by all her brothers, holding this tiny little baby in her arms. Her brothers were crying, but she didn't. She held their hands and wiped their tears, but she never, not once, shed a single one. When I went to the wake at her house her brothers were being taken care of by other people and that's when I saw her. She was in the laundry room, her back turned to everyone and she was crying, not wailing, not sobbing, just quietly crying. I remember going up to her, my palms sweating, still a nervous wreck. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears and my whole body was shaking ... I got closer to her and she must have heard me coming because she turned around, looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears, and then just hugged me out of no-where. And I hugged her back, but all I could get out was my goddamn name.

"Every day after that for months I went to her house after school, and weekends—whenever I could—to try to help out. Because even though I wanted to protect her, and help any way I could. It was more than that. I wanted to be around her, too. Like, all the fucking time. And I know this is going to sound cheesy as fuck—" He stopped talking when Lucy came back over. She sat on his lap and he adjusted them so they were more comfortable. He kissed her once on the cheek, and then continued, "I really enjoyed just being with her, you know? Hanging out, talking, goofing around, whatever. And all of this was before the making out and the sex. The incredible fucking sex." Lucy just smiled.

"What I guess I'm trying to say is—is that unless you feel those things for Micky-" Lucy's head whipped to face me. Cam pat her leg a couple of times. "Unless you feel those things, the nerves, the want to be with them all the time, the missing them when they're not around...all of that shit ... then it's not love you feel. Well, not love love. It's uh..." He thought for a moment, eyeing the sky. "It's the Logan-Lucy Love," he said.

Lucy grinned at me.

I was silent.

In shock.

Then finally, "Where the fuck were you months ago when I needed that speech, asshole."

"Fuck you." He laughed.

Then Lucy chimed in, looking out in the distance, raising a fist in the air and started pumping it ... she started singing quietly, to the tune of 'Macho Man', "Lo-gan Lu-cy Loove..."

***

An hour later, I was walking back to our group after talking to the DJ when I saw her. It was the first time I'd seen her since that night. I figured she might be here, but actually seeing her was harder than I thought. She was with a few other girls, standing a little away from where James and his friends were. Of course, they went to the same school.

I needed to talk to her, maybe try to explain what happened without going into too much detail. I walked towards her, and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. I cracked my knuckles with my thumbs. It was a nervous habit I've tried to break. I basically had, I only did it when I got really nervous. And apparently with girls, or a girl, I should say.

I got closer to them, and their conversation died. Alexis, her friend, had the other two girls in her grip. "Come on," she said, pulling them away. So then it was just her, and me, face to face, for the first time in months. And as stupid as it fucking sounded, I missed her. And I was nervous as all hell. I wiped my palms on my jeans again and adjusted my cap a little higher so I could see her properly.

"Hey." I motioned my hand in a small wave, and then placed them in my front pockets.

"Matthews." She nodded her head. She had no expression. Not happy to see me, not sad, not angry, nothing.

"I, uh ... how are you?"

She inhaled a deep breath, but didn't say anything. We stood, looking straight at each other. Honestly, I'd played this moment out in my head more than a few times over the last two months, and each of those moments I had something to say, some sort of plan so that she would actually talk to me again. But now, standing here, I had no words.

Just a shitload of fucking regret.

"Amanda!" Some guy behind her interrupted. We broke the stare. Her head turned to the kid. I looked over her shoulder at him. He had a ball cap pulled low on his forehead, looking down at his phone. It was dark. I couldn't make out who he was or what he looked like. "You ready to go?" He never looked up from his phone.

She turned back to me slowly, and my eyes moved to hers. She held my gaze for a few seconds to make sure I heard her next words.

And I did. I heard them loud and fucking clear. "Yeah, babe," she said loudly, eyes on mine. "We're totally done here."

She walked backwards a few steps, then turned and went to him. He was still looking down at his phone as he spun, putting one arm around her shoulders. She wrapped both arms around his waist, looked up and spoke to him. Finally, he put the phone in his pocket then gazed down at her. He flipped his cap backwards, leaned down and kissed her.

And I looked away.

Because I couldn't fucking stand to see it.

And this—this is the moment I knew what it felt like to lose everything I never had.

ONE

-Present-

A year and a half later

College was everything I expected it to be. I lived in the frat house, which was fine.

A few months after we got here, Jake and Micky became a thing. An official, exclusive thing. And I was happy for them. I truly was. Because Cam was right; I didn't love her. Not the way I thought I did.

I know Amanda told Micky she was going to college here, but we never discussed it. And it sucked because I looked for her everywhere; in all my classes, walking through campus, the stores nearby and diners she might be working at. Nothing. I didn't see her anywhere.

I know I could ask Micky, and I've thought about it on more than one occasion—but here's the thing—if she wanted Micky to know then she would have told her, and I'd have had my ass kicked already. She's not telling her for a reason.

So, every day I look for her and she’s not here. And every day I got more and more pissed off and angry about what I did to her. Then I turn that anger into the one thing I know will help: girls.

Between baseball, the parties, the girls and the sex I have just enough time to study. If I had to give up one of those things, it would be baseball. Honestly though, I'd give it all up it if it meant I could see her again.

TWO

-Past-

The Meet.

Before summer, pre college

The first time I saw her was at Jake's house. It was at Mikayla’s families wake. To me—she was like a light in the darkness. I wonder now if Micky ever thought of Jake like that.

***

"Excuse me?"

Her voice was so low I almost didn't hear it. But when I turned around, she was there. Standing in the middle of the Andrews' kitchen, plates in hand, waiting for me to say—or do—something.

Finally, a sound travelled up my throat and out my mouth. I couldn't tell you what the fuck I said, because I can't remember.

All I can remember is her.

The way she stood there, unsure of the situation. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, her eyebrows drawn together.

She jerked her head towards me, "I need to put these in there."

"Huh?"

"The sink, behind you? I need to put these in there." She said this slowly, as if I were a child.

She lifted the plates in her hands and waited.

I took my time, taking her in. I’m pretty sure I didn't even try to hide the eye-fuck I gave her, because when my eyes finally left her body to settle on her face, she was blushing.

She tried not to smile, "Are you going to move or what?"

I smirked, and lazily stepped aside.

She took two steps forward and tripped—on absolutely nothing. The plates she was holding fell to the floor and shattered. We were both quick to bend and pick them up; so quick that we butt heads on the way down.

"Shit," she whispered, rubbing her head.

"Fuck," I said, doing the same.

I started to pick up the broken pieces and that's when I noticed the blood.

"Dude, you're bleeding," I told her.

She looked up and our eyes locked.

And that's one of the ways I remember her.

Her face so close to mine I could hear her breathing.

"Huh?" She looked down at her hand, and her eyes widened before she said, "Holy shitballs!"

And then she squealed like a little girl. Her eyes squeezed shut as she threw her hand out in front of her, waving it around, dripping blood all over the floor. "I can't see blood. I mean, technically I can see it, but I can't look at it. You have to make it stop." She hadn't taken a breath. "Seriously, it freaks me the fuck out. Make it stop! Oh my god! I'm going to throw up! Move!" She started to stand, then stopped, gripped my shirt, faced away from me, and continued, "Don't move...fix it. Please?" Then she looked at me with panic clear on her face. "I'm going to pass out. Oh God. Oh God."

"Hey," I tried to soothe her. "It's fine, I got you." I held her arm and helped her to stand. I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped.

"It's not funny, I swear I'll throw up if I look at it."

She still had that panicked look, and her face had paled a few shades. That's when I realized she wasn't fucking around. It was also when I realized how cute she was. "Don't look at it then, just concentrate on my face."

So she did.

"Does it hurt?"

She nodded slowly, never taking her eyes off mine.

"Okay, I'm going to turn the tap off now, just let me know if I hurt you when I look at it, okay?"

Another slow nod.

I finally managed to tear my eyes off hers, to check out her finger. "You're just going to need a Band-Aid."

I cleaned up the mess on the floor, led her to the bathroom where the first aid kit was and told her to sit up on the counter.

Once the Band-Aid was on, I glanced up at her. "You good?"

She bit her lip, nodding. "Thanks," she said quietly. "What are you? A doctor or something?" She smiled wide, her legs kicked back and forth in front of her.

"Something like that."

"Well, Thank you. And sorry for freaking out, about the blood thing. I really just...ugh...me and blood are not friends." She scrunched up her nose and made a disgusted face.

I took her in and her big blue eyes looked back. Her light brown hair hung loose. It was the only time I'd seen it like that.

And that's when it hit me. She wasn't just cute. She was kind of fucking hot.

She bit her lip again and my eyes zoned in on the action. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted my mouth on hers and I wanted it bad. For some reason, I thought it was okay to do what I did next, because I was Logan Fucking Matthews, and I was a goddamn boss. Plus—chicks loved me.

So I made a move to kiss her, but I saw her eyes widen slightly before our lips made contact and the next thing I knew, her knee was in my junk and I was folding over myself trying to breath through the pain.

I leaned down, both hands on my parts, trying to soothe the ache. I couldn't breath properly. I was doing everything I could to not fall to the ground and cry. I saw her jump off the counter and bend down to look in my eyes.

"First, I don't even know you. Second, we're at a fucking wake. And third, you're an asshole," she said. One of her fingers pushed the middle of my forehead; hard enough that it made me fall back a little.

She opened the bathroom door quickly, and shut it behind her. Once I knew it was closed for sure, I dropped to the floor and rocked back and forth like a goddamn baby. The pain was that fucking intense.

***

I was out on the back patio with everyone else when I heard her voice. “Hi, Mikayla. I'm really sorry about your loss.“ She laughed once. "What a shit thing to say, like, you lost something but you'll find it again."

Micky laughed. "Amanda, how are you?"

Amanda.

I tuned out the conversation and just stared at her. She wasn't hot. Not the in your face kind of hot. She was something else. She's still something else.

***

As soon as she left, I knew I had to find her.

I rushed out of the house searching for her. She was on the sidewalk, pressing the fob to unlock a shitty red civic.

I virtually sprinted over to her. "Amanda!" I yelled.

She turned and froze in her spot.

I stopped inches in front of her, my breathing heavy from running.

"I need your number," I told her.

"What?" she said through an incredulous laugh.

"I need your number because I need to take you out." I tried my panty-dropping smile on her.

"Um, no." She turned around to open her car door.

"What?" I asked, disbelief laced in my tone.

"No," she repeated.

"Why not?" I was pissed off. "I'm just asking for your number."

She turned to face me, huffing out a breath.

"No, asshole." She rolled her eyes. "You weren't asking for my number. You were demanding it." She eyed my up and down. "Who are you anyway?"

"Logan Matthews," I put my hand out to shake hers.

She looked down at it, shook her head, laughed once, and then looked back up at me.

"Definitely no."

"What? Why? Give me one good reason," I spat out. I didn't know why it was getting to me, her not wanting me. But I was pissed off and I felt like I needed to win that argument, or whatever the fuck it was that was going on there.

"Because."

"That's not a reason."

"Because I have a boyfriend."

"No you don't." I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Because you're an asshole."

"Valid, but not accepted. Next?"

"Because I like girls."

I eyed her up and down and licked my lips, "Even better."

She took a deep breath in and sighed out loud. "Fine." Her hand was out waiting, so I gave her my phone.

A huge shit-eating grin took over my face, because I just fucking won, and I couldn't wait to make her pay for it. She handed it back and rushed to get in her car. I watched her as she drove away.

Amanda.

Once she was gone, I looked down at my phone. The notes app was open:

In your dreams, asshole. Find another way to score your home run.

THREE

-Present-

We were three weeks away from the first game of the season and I was trying to get my classes sorted before baseball consumed all my free time. Baseball—it wasn't a big deal for me. I wasn't the best catcher on the team. I definitely wouldn't be starting. I walked onto the team by default because Jake and I were best friends and we played high school ball together for three years. They assumed we had a special connection on the field or some shit—some sort of secret communication. The thing is, Jake Andrews is that fucking good he could pitch to a brick wall and still be a big deal. I stayed on the team because it helped clear my head and gave me a good work out schedule. It's not my passion and it's definitely not my career.

***

I was about to walk out of the library when I saw Micky, Lucy and a third girl. I did a double take because there was no way in hell it could be her. "Luce! Micky!"

I got scolded to shut up.

I didn't care.

They both turned around immediately.

And so did she.

Amanda.

Holy shit.

My steps faltered as I got closer.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off her. She looked the same, but different? Fuck, I don't know. Her eyes widened as she saw me walking towards them, but they quickly averted to the to the floor. I waited until I was right in front of them before speaking. "Hey," I said to all of them, but I couldn't tear my eyes off Amanda.

"Dude," Micky laughed, her finger clicking in front of my face. It snapped me out of dazed state. When I finally peeled my eyes off Amanda and looked at Micky, she was smirking at me.

Lucy started giggling. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying to hide her own smirk. My eyes darted to Amanda, but she was still looking at the ground, playing with the straps of her backpack.

"Nothing, just had some shit to do. What are you lovely ladies doing?"

I don't think I realized that I hadn't taken my eyes off her, because Micky was laughing and waving her hand in front of my face again. I slapped them away and glared at her. She stopped laughing, smiled, and then nudged Amanda with her elbow. "Amanda," Micky said. She finally looked up. “Have you met Logan?" she continued with a shit-eating grin on her face.

My palms began to sweat; my thumb cracked the fingers on each hand. My pulse echoed in my ears. I could see Lucy's confused expression from the corner of my eye, but I couldn't take my fucking eyes off Amanda. My hands went in my front pockets while I waited for her reaction. I needed her to say something—anything. To tell me that she remembered me. But when she finally looked up, there was nothing.

"Nope. Never." She faked looking at her watch. "I gotta go. My rides coming and he's in a hurry, I'll see you girls later," she said quickly, and then walked away.

"We got book club on Tuesday. Don't forget," Lucy called after her.

She raised her hand in acknowledgement.

I let go of the breath I didn't know I was holding.

Lucy put her arm through mine as we walked out and towards the parking lot. "Logan, don't tell me you've slept with her, too. She's one of the good ones," she whined.

"What? No. I haven't. Swear it."

"Good." She laughed.

I put my arms around both their shoulders. "So what's this about a book club? You girls sit around, reading dirty books, fanning each other's vaginas? Because if so, count me in!"

"Ew!" Lucy yelped the same time Micky backhanded my stomach.

The girls got in Micky's car and drove off.

I looked around for my car. I wasn't parked on this side of the lot. I started making my way to the other side, and saw Amanda sitting at a bus stop, on her phone. I was at a stand still for a moment, wondering if I should try and talk to her, or if I should just leave her alone.

She glanced up when she heard footsteps, but her expression falling the instant she realized it was me. "I got to go, Lexi. I'll call you later...yeah...uh-huh...bye."

She regarded me, her eyebrows raised.

"Hey." I motioned my head to the spot on the bench next to her.

She bit her lip and looked away. "It's a free country, Matthews. You can do what you want."

I hated that she called me Matthews. Like she didn't even know my name. Or she just didn't care. "So you do remember me? That's not what you said to-"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Her whole body spun to face me. "I'm not the one that—" She stopped herself abruptly and closed her eyes, forcing her breathing to steady.

I watched her, confused.

"You know what, Matthews? Just leave it alone, okay? No one needs to know that we have history—or whatever. Just leave it. Please." Her eyes were cast downwards, picking at her jeans.

I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I tried to reach for her hand, but she jerked it away.

"Amanda," I sighed. "I'm sorry." I meant it.

Her whole body tensed before she raised her eyes to mine.

"You're too late, Logan." She shook her head slowly. "You're just too fucking late."

A car pulled up, interrupting me from saying anything more. She rushed to stand, putting her backpack on. "I'd say it was nice seeing you, Matthews. But it really, really wasn't." I stayed silent as she got into that same piece of shit old jeep from her graduation day.

And I was left sitting there, watching her leave.

Again.