Текст книги "More Than Her"

Автор книги: Jay McLean

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

TWENTY FIVE

Logan

I barely saw her for two days. If we were home at the same time, she ignored me. The truth was I wanted to see her, more than anything. But I knew I shouldn't. So I didn’t. Instead, I let her believe that I was an asshole. I am. But not for the reasons she thought.

"Amandaaaa! Your boy's home!" an unfamiliar voice boomed from the front door. I could hear Ethan laughing, then Amanda squealing. I opened my door the same time she did, but she didn't notice me.

She practically ran down the hallway. I followed because I'm a nosy, jealous, asshole.

Some guy had his arms around her, spinning her around. Her legs were wrapped around his waist. It was like Tyson all over again.

"Dude," she said, as he placed her back on the floor. "E didn't tell me you were coming!"

"I wanted to surprise you."

She had a huge grin on her face. "How long are you here for?"

They talked for a few more minutes. Nobody bothered to introduce me. I just stood there with my hands in my pockets feeling like a loser.

"I gotta go to work," she said, "but afterwards, you're all mine, okay?"

He nodded, as she turned and went back to her room, brushing past me. She didn't even acknowledge me.

I watched the dick stare at her ass as she walked away. "Holy shit, Amanda!" he shouted, "Yoga must be working. You're ass is fucking incredible."

She laughed.

Fucking laughed.

Who the fuck is this dick?

Ethan went to the kitchen, Dick followed behind him.

I was still fucking invisible.

"Ethan, man," I heard Dick say, trying to keep his voice low. "Amanda's gotten hot. Like really fucking hot."

I cleared my throat as I entered the room, glaring at Dick as I did.

"Oh hey, man," he had his hand out, "Tristan."

I looked at his hand, ignored it, then open the fridge for a bottle of water. I glared at him. "You think it's okay to talk about your friend's sister like that?"

His eyes widened slightly, then slowly, a smirk appeared. This dick was actually smirking at me.

"Aah," he said, nodding his head.

What the fuck did that mean? I crossed my arms over my chest. "Maybe you should have a little more respect, don't you think?"

I don't care who this guy was; he couldn't talk about Amanda like that.

I heard him chuckle, then Ethan walked up to him, pat his shoulder a few times, and left the room.

Dick straightened up and squared his shoulders.

I sized him up. I could take him.

I took a step forward.

He did the same.

"I've known her since we were five," he started, "then through her teenage years. You know, when her body started to develop." He motioned tits with his hands, because clearly he was twelve fucking years old.

My eyes narrowed.

He continued. "She was cute in high school, but she was Ty's. Now though..." he trailed off and licked his lips.

"Watch your next words asshole." I ground out. I cracked my knuckles with my thumbs. I wanted him to continue. I wanted a reason to hit him.

His smirk got wider.

I wanted to remove it with my fist.

"Now though, I bet she'd be fucking dynamite in the sack."

I shoved him. Hard.

He fell back and hit the wall.

Ethan walked in.

Dick started laughing.

Ethan shook his head.

"Tris, don't fuck with him like that."

Dick, aka Tristan, continued to laugh. I shoved him again.

"Logan," Ethan warned. "He's being an asshole. He's just fucking with you. He's gay."

"What?" I looked him up and down. He didn't look gay.

"Don't look at me like that," Tristan said, "I might get the wrong idea."

Ethan chuckled.

"You don't look gay," I stupidly said.

"We're not all fairies and feathers you know?"

Ethan chimed in, "I'm taking Amanda to work. I'll be back soon."

"Looks like it's just you and me," Tristan said, blowing me a kiss.

I couldn't help but laugh.

I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and handed one to him. We spent the time Ethan was gone getting to know each other. I remembered his name from Ty's story. And even though he fucked with my head, I couldn't not have respect for him.

***

"I didn't come out to my parents until the day I left for college."

"Yeah? That must've sucked."

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "I spent most of my high school years so far in the closet I was having adventures in Narnia."

I choked on my beer, swallowed, and then laughed.

So did he.

"Amanda's actually the first person I told."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't know how Ethan would react, you know?"

"He's your best friend, right?"

"Yeah, he is. It's not that I thought it would ruin our friendship or anything. It was just the initial reaction that scared me. I knew he'd be okay with it eventually."

"How did he react?"

He chuckled. "He asked if I thought gay dudes would think he was hot. I told him yes and he high-fived me. That was that."

***

They all planed a party that night. I didn’t even know if I was invited. It was in my own damn house.

"You should invite your friends," Tristan told me. At least he cared about me. "Invite Jake Andrews, he's hot. You're friends with him, right?"

"You're using me for my hot friends?"

"Are you gay?"

"Nope."

"Then you're useless to me."

***

I invited my friends, and they all showed up. Turned out Amanda already invited them. Sometimes I forgot that she was friends with them too.

I did my best to avoid her, but when I got into the kitchen and saw her sitting on the counter, with that asshole from her work standing in front of her, something in me snapped.

Amanda

He walked into the kitchen and froze mid stride. I was sitting on the counter, with Tony standing in front of me. Tony and I had fooled around a little before Logan showed up. I called it off the second I felt the slightest thing for Logan. I'm not one of those wishy-washy girls that stays with someone or leads them on if there's a chance that my mind might—even for a second—wander to someone else.

Obviously.

Exhibit A – Tyson Landry.

Logan casually opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. My eyes stayed focused on him, waiting for him to leave. But he didn't. Instead, he leaned on the counter opposite us, crossed his legs at his ankles, and folded his arms over his chest. He took a long sip of his beer. His eyes never left mine. Then with beer in hand, he saluted me. "Carry on," he said, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Tony shook his head before leaning in to say something, his hand rubbed my arm, but I don't know what he said, because all I could see was Logan. His eyes were bloodshot as they narrowed to slits. He pushed off the counter and walked up to us. "A word?" he said lazily.

Tony turned to him, "Rude much? We're in the middle of something here."

Logan glared at him, then lifted his index finger in the air, twirling it around. "You see this?" he asked, his chin lifting.

Tony looked around the kitchen, confusion all over his face. "See what, Asshole? There's nothing."

"Exactly." Logan smirked, moving so he was in front of me. "That's all the fucks I give."

Then he lifted me over his shoulder, walked us out of the kitchen, and into his room.

Logan

"What do you want Matthews?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?"

I knew I'd lost it—the control I should have in this situation. But I couldn't fucking help it.

"Like what? His hand on my fucking arm!" She was pissed. "Why the fuck do you even care? You've made it clear that you don't want me. So what is this? You don't want me but no one else can have me?"

"Yes!" I yelled, before settling down. "I mean no. Fuck, Amanda. I don't know!" My hands went into my hair, clasping my fingers behind my head. I started pacing the floor, wondering how the fuck I was going to make sense of this shit.

"You don't know?!" she repeated, anger laced in her voice. "You don't fucking know!" She screamed louder. "Maybe that's the problem, Logan. Maybe that's always been the problem. You just Don’t. Fucking. Know!"

She took a deep breath in, calming herself down. "I can't believe I fucking let this happen again, what the hell is wrong with me?" She shook her head, talking to herself. "And the thing is– I forgave you. After the shit you pulled that summer I just forgave you. Like it didn't even happen. Like it didn't matter. When it fucking did. You know how much it mattered."

I just stood there, hands in pockets, because I had no words.

Nothing.

"You know when you moved in, I had no choice. I thought, fuck it. Just treat him like you would any other asshole. I would have been happy to forget about it, Logan. I would have been happy to just be friends with you, and move on. But you—you were the one that kept pushing this. Not me. And now? Now you don't know what you want."

Silence.

Followed by more silence.

Because as much as I wanted to tell her something—anything. I couldn’t.

So I didn't.

I just stood there and let myself be the pathetic fuck-up that I was.

"You know what the worst part is, Logan?" She moved so she was right in front of me.

I kept looking at the floor.

"Look at me!" she yelled.

So I did.

And the second I did, I regretted it. There was rage and anger and sadness in her eyes. But what hurt the most were her tears. Those same fucked up tears I always caused.

She took in a deep breath, making sure that I saw her. "The worst part is that you and me—we could have been amazing. We could have had it all, Logan. Everything. And you fucked it up."

Then she laughed once. That bitter fucking laugh. "I'm done, Logan." She motioned her finger between us. "You and me—we're done." She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't bitter or even upset. She was exactly what she said she is—done.

She brushed past me and walked towards the door, stopping just before her hand reached the handle.

"Logan," she said over her shoulder, "you need to find somewhere else to live."

She wiped her face, before opening the door and leaving.

She bumped into Jake on her way out, who looked confused to see her. Then he glimpsed into my room, saw me, then looked back at her, and then me again.

He cautiously walked into my room and sat on my desk chair.

"What's up?" he said casually.

"Nothing." I threw my body backwards onto the bed and covered my eyes with my forearm.

"That didn't look like nothing to me." He cleared his throat. "What's the deal? You into her?"

"Have you been living under a fucking rock? You know I'm in to her. Don't be an asshole."

He laughed. "Dude, I just didn't want to make any assumptions. You know what happened the last time I assumed you were into someone."

I did. It was that day with Micky.

"So what's the problem?" he continued. "She doesn't want you?"

I sighed out loud and sat up so I could face him.

"She does want me, that is the problem."

His eyebrows bunched together. "I'm sorry, man. I'm a little buzzed, so you're going to have to help me out here." He shook his head slowly. "What's the problem?"

"She's too good for me, Jake. I don't fucking deserve her. Not now, and not the first time."

"The first time?"

Fuck. I forgot he didn't know. "Nothing."

Then he looked at me, and I glared back. Like we were eight and this was a stare off. He took his cap off, ran his hand through his hair, and then replaced it. "Shit. You're more than into her, huh? You're like, into her."

I nodded slowly. He was right.

"Fuck, man. I never thought I'd see the day," he said, disbelief laced in his voice.

"Like you're one to talk."

"Valid."

Then it was quiet for a while as I thought about the colossal tower of fucked-uppery I'd gotten myself into.

"Don't you think it's her decision?" Jake broke the silence.

I looked over at him. "Huh?"

"Don't you think she should be the one making that choice? Whether to be with you or not? I mean, if she wants you, then there's something there right?"

I kept staring at him, waiting for him to go on.

"Look, I know that you enjoy being this asshole or whatever, but you're a decent guy. I mean, you were there for Micky when she had that pregnancy scare, and the next day when she went to see you, you were-"

"You know about that?" I cut in.

He eyed me. "Of course I do. She didn't tell me right away, but a few months later. We don't keep secrets, Logan. Ever."

I nodded.

"All I'm saying is that you're a good guy. And maybe you can't see that. But maybe she does. And maybe that's enough, you know?"

I was about to say something but shouting coming from the living room interrupted us.

We both got up quickly and made our way out. When we got out of the hallway, it was mayhem. Someone had turned the music off and everyone was looking at the corner of the room.

We broke through the crowd to see Ethan with his forearm against some kids neck, pinning him to the wall. The kid looked familiar but I couldn't place him.

"We fucking told you not to come around here," Tristan spat, pacing behind Ethan.

The kid’s eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, Tris. You fucking faggot!"

I swear to God time stood still as people gasped. Ethan's forearm went further into his neck. Tristan just shook his head and laughed it off.

"Everybody out." Ethan's voice was flat, but dead serious.

Nobody moved.

Dylan got up from his seated position on the sofa. "You heard him, out."

This time, half the room left.

The other half just stood there, waiting for a show.

And I had no idea what the fuck was happening.

"Out!" Ethan was a little louder this time.

Nobody moved.

Then from the back of the crowd, "You heard E, everybody get the fuck out!" It was James. And this time, people listened. One by one the filed out the front door. James was the last to leave.

"You good?" he asked Ethan and Tristan.

They bumped fists and he left. James must have had power at their school; it was like the seas parted when he spoke.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Greg?" Ethan snapped.

Greg.

Mother. Fucker.

I was about to step in, but Jake pulled on my arm to stop me.

Greg pushed Ethan off him. “I just wanted to tell your slut of a sister here, that I don't appreciate her sending around her ex boyfriend, over to the house, causing shit for me and calling me a fucking rapist!"

Instantly my ears fill with the familiar sound of bone crushing bone.

I have no fucking clue how long we stood there, watching Ethan beat this kid's face with his fist, but eventually Cam and Dylan pulled him off.

Ethan fell to the floor, his breathing heavy, jaw clenched, head bowed between his raised knees.

Cam and Dylan held Greg back, as he spat blood. Then he raised his head, eyes narrowed at Ethan. "She wanted it, you know? I told her I loved her and she fucking wanted it. It was that fucking easy. She was that fucking easy."

And this—this is the moment I lost control of the one thing I've tried my entire life to avoid. I may talk shit and want to punch people, but I never have. I never thought I would. Because in the back of my mind, I was always too afraid that I'd turn into him.

The second Greg's words left his mouth; I was on him. And I don't know how exactly I got to the point of my fist repeatedly slamming into his jaw, his nose, his mouth, his entire fucking face—but it did.

Suddenly, there were arms around mine and I was being pulled back, Jake's voice was in my ear. "That's enough, dude. It's done."

"You need to get him out of here." I told someone. Anyone. "And make sure he doesn't fucking come back. Ever."

"Done." Dylan deadpanned. He dragged that asshole out of the house, Cam following behind him.

And then I heard her.

Her sobs took over the room, and when I looked at her, my stomach dropped to the floor. She was huddled in a corner, her knees up to her chest, her head in between them. Her arms were crossed over her head, shielding herself, as she rocked back and forth, crying.

I moved closer to her. "Amanda," I tried to get out through the lump in my throat.

Slowly, her head rose to look up at me, eyes red. She was about to say something, but then her eyes snapped to Ethan, who was still sitting on the floor. She let out a sob and slowly, she crawled over to him, crying harder as she got closer. She wiped her face with her forearm and moved to sit it front him. Then she saw the blood on his hand and made a noise as she looked away. He removed his shirt, covered his hand with it, and then whispered something to her. She looked back at him and broke down, falling into him, while he wrapped his arms around her, saying something in her ear. She slowly nodded her head. He picked her up off the floor, cradling her like a child, as they walked into her room and closed the door quietly behind them.

I didn’t follow. I didn’t say a fucking word. Because in my mind, all I could think—is that it's my fault.

It's all my fucking fault.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, as something cold was placed on my hand. I looked down to see Lucy covering it with a bag of frozen peas. And then I remember everyone else was here.

"You all good, man?" Jake patted my shoulder.

I nodded, held the bag to my hand and sat on the sofa. "What the fuck just happened?"

***

I don't know how much time passed before Dylan and Cam came back in the house. "One of his boys just picked him up," Dylan stated.

"Yeah, you don't need to worry about him coming back either. D took care of it," Cam confirmed, taking a seat next to Lucy and putting his arm around her. She sank into him.

My mind was still buzzing from the adrenalin, and the pain in my hand had started to throb. My head rolled to the back of the sofa as my good hand rubbed my eyes.

I heard a door open and shut and whipped my head to the sound. Ethan came out of the hallway, shrugging on a new shirt. He stopped abruptly when he saw us all sitting around, waiting...I don't really know what for.

"How’s your hand?" He asked, as he got closer.

I glanced at his, "Not as bad as yours."

He shrugged. "She uh, she wants to see you." He jerked his head to her bedroom.

I took a deep breath in to calm myself. I don't know that I could see her. I don't think I'd have the right words to tell her how fucking sorry I was. For all of it. For being an asshole. For not calling her. For not being there. But mainly, for not being what she thought we could be. What she wanted us to be.

"We're gonna head out." One of the guys said. I don't know who because I was already walking towards her room.

I knocked lightly on her door and opened it. She lay in the middle of her bed, but slowly came to sit on the edge. I sat next to her, looking down at the floor.

Then I felt her soft hands on mine, removing the frozen bag. I jerked it away.

"Logan." It was barely a whisper.

I cleared the lump in my throat. "There's still blood, you can't see it."

"Whose?"

"Huh?"

"Whose blood is it?"

"I don't know." I still couldn't face her.

Silence.

"Logan, what's wrong?"

I shook my head.

"Look at me, please?" she pled.

So I did.

And then we were just staring at each other, trying to understand what this was. Where this left us. She looked at me so intently, her eyes boring into mine, that I think I forgot to breathe. I dropped my head again, too uncomfortable to hold her gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I let out the breath. "What?"

"Your hand..."

My mind was too filled with guilt for thoughts to make sense.

I felt her move closer to me. My head lifted to face her. She was biting her lip, watching me.

"It's my fault," I told her. Truth.

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please? I want it to be done."

I raised my good hand and held the side of her face, she leaned into it. I wiped her tears with my thumb. "Did he hurt you?"

She closed her eyes softly. "Honestly?" When she opened them, they were focused on me.

I nodded.

She covered my hand with hers and held it closer to her face. "Not as much as you did. But it's done. It's over."

She laid back down, her head on my lap. I started running my fingers through her hair.

We were silent for so long that eventually her breathing evened out. She'd fallen asleep. I tried not to disturb her as I moved from under her, but she woke. Her arms went around me, holding me onto her.

"I just need some water," I lifted my hand, "and aspirin. You want anything?"

She shook her head as she got more comfortable under the covers. "Come back, okay?"

***

When I got back to her room, she was sitting up, the covers bunched at her waist. "You took your time."

"Sorry." I stood at the foot of her bed, not sure what to do.

She lifted the covers on one side. "Are you coming in?"

I unbuckled my belt and started to take my jeans off. I noticed her watching me. I kicked them off and removed my shirt. Not wanting to see her reaction, I quickly got into her bed, and turned off the lamp.

We were lying side by side, not talking, not touching.

Then I felt her move to her side. "Why didn't you call?" she whispered, sadness consumed in her tone.

I turned to face here. A single tear fell from her eyes. I wanted to reach out and take away her pain. But I don't. I just lay there, trying to ignore the ache in my chest. "I promise, I'll tell you. But not tonight, okay?"

She nodded as she moved closer. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her head to my chest. Her arm went around my waist while her legs tangled with mine. We were as close as we could possibly be.

And for the first time in days—being with her—like this—holding her—I finally felt like I could breathe again.