Текст книги "And It All Comes Down To You"

Автор книги: Kyra Lennon

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And It All Comes Down To You

And It All Comes Down To You © Kyra Lennon 2015

Published worldwide 2015 © Kyra Lennon

All rights reserved in all media. This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.

All characters and events featured in this book are entirely fictional and any resemblance to any person, organisation, place or thing is purely coincidental and completely unintentional.

For unwittingly leading me to the best book title ever, and

making me laugh more than anyone I know.

Much love,

Miss Not A Proper Author ;) xx

Prologue

“Back up for one second!” Lydia held up her hands, her eyes wide as the pillow that had rested on her lap slipped off and thumped on the floor with her shock. “Logan asked you on a road trip?”

A laugh burst out of my mouth at my best friend’s words. A giddy, ‘Yeah, I can’t believe it either’ kind of laugh born from having waited for what felt like a million years for this to happen.

This was not such a big deal. Not to a normal, well-adjusted woman, but I was a teenager in the body of a twenty-two-year-old.

I guess that’s what happens when you fall for someone you knew when you were young. You regress. You go back to that magical time when everything is new and you do everything for the first time. It’s like stepping through the looking glass and seeing yourself the way you want to be seen. The way you hope you’re seen. You step through, you become that person who looks at the world through enchanted eyes, and you believe in the happy ending again.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Logan asked me on a road trip. And before you say anything else, it’s just a road trip, not a date.”

Unfortunately.

I tried to push that thought aside for two reasons. One, I wanted to be able to look Logan in the eye, and if I thought about anything happening between us before we set off in the morning, I wouldn’t manage it. And two, whatever I felt for him had to come second to getting to know him better. Obviously, I knew him, but I needed some confirmation. Confirmation that the image I had of him was real, and not just a stitched together version of what I wanted him to be.

“Tell me again what this trip is for?” Lydia asked, kindly steering the conversation in a less nerve-tingling direction.

“It’s a music thing. An outdoor festival he has tickets for. It starts late afternoon and goes on through the evening. We’re driving back tomorrow night.”

Lydia chuckled as if this was about to be the start of everything I’d ever wanted, and I whipped my own pillow out from behind me and took a swing at her, causing her to laugh harder as she tipped over onto her side. “Oh, come on! You have to see the brilliant side of this. This is huge.”

With a groan I lay back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. “I know. And, believe me, after giving up on the idea of ever seeing him again, this has thrown me a little. A lot.”

“You should be dancing around the room in celebration right now!”

“I want to. But, fuck, if this doesn’t scare me.”

Lydia sat up straight again and peeled my hands from my face so I couldn’t hide my honest reaction from her.

“Marnie, level with me here. When it comes to Logan, you’ve always been kind of… reserved. I get that you like him. You’ve always liked him. But lately it seems like you feel more than for him than you want to admit.”

Heat flooded my cheeks because she was right. What she didn’t understand was that I had to be reserved where Logan was concerned. I didn’t want to admit how long I’d lived with him on my mind. Sure, he was my school girl crush – there was barely a person who grew up with us who didn’t know that, except maybe Logan himself. But you’re supposed to get over school girl crushes. They’re supposed to end the moment you walk out of the school gates for the last time and go your separate ways. That never happened. I’d lied to myself that it was nothing for the last few years, because I couldn’t have feelings for him, could I? We rarely even saw each other in person anymore unless we bumped into each other on a night out. It made me crazy. Sometimes I wanted to reach into my phone and drag him through, or scream, “Come on! Just one coffee. Give me an hour. I just want to see you!” I refused to be that girl. The one who begs, demands. The downside of not being that girl was that I became a different girl. One who lived with doubts and insecurities, who constantly lived on the edge of something she couldn’t quite reach.

“Here’s the thing.” I sighed. “I don’t know the answer to that question. Not really. Yes, I like him, of course I do. But I can’t say anything more than that because I’ve barely spent any time with him. Ever.”

“So? What about those people who meet online? They fall in love through the powers of Facebook messenger or Skype. Are you saying their feelings aren’t real?”

I shook my head. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I’m not a person who can confess love for someone without spending a significant amount of time with them. It wouldn’t feel real.”

“How do you feel when you have been with him?”

Warmth swept through my body as I considered Lydia’s words. I never had doubts about the answer to this question, only hesitation about confessing.

“I feel… amazing. Happier. Not in an ‘I need a guy to make me complete’ kind of way. It’s more that everything that’s already good about my life is enhanced. Everything seems brighter, and anything bad that’s happening doesn’t matter as much anymore.” I shook my head again, shrugging off the idiotic girly trance I’d been slipping into. “But I don’t know if that’s enough, and I really don’t know if he feels even slightly the same way about me.” Of if I fully understand how I feel.

Lydia snorted out a laugh. “You’re the romantic! You know the answer and you know how you feel.”

The Meeting Stage aka Over My Head

Breathe, Marnie.

I stood outside my house, checking my bag one more time to make sure I’d remembered everything I needed for the road trip and festival fun ahead. Mostly my make-up¸ which took up more space than was entirely necessary.

Logan is going to think I’m ridiculous.

Ah well, it wasn’t like he was going to rummage through my things. I just needed to not let him see that I was carrying the equivalent of a Boots cosmetics counter in my bag. A girl can never be too prepared, right?

Okay, maybe she can, but a lame and possibly deluded part of me thought that if I looked decent, with good make-up, and my long, dark hair straightened, maybe…

Maybe nothing. Stop those thoughts right now.

Easier said than done. Dammit, I needed this to go well. I needed to calm down, be myself, and figure this out.

I shuffled my feet, trying to shift some of the adrenaline pumping through my veins while I waited. I didn’t even know what kind of car I was looking out for. Every time another one turned into my street, my heart raced and I tried to look casual, as if I was one of those cool girls who can take things like this in her stride.

I used to be that girl. I’d lost her somewhere around the age of eighteen. I guess heartbreak can do that to a person. The level of caution when entering, or considering entering, something new gets higher with each terrible experience. Being carefree wasn’t an option anymore. I owed it to myself to guard my already dented heart.

A blue Renault Clio turned into my street, and this time, my heart rate increase was justified as I spotted Logan in the driver’s seat. His thick blond hair was a little scruffy, probably because he’d just stumbled out of bed and into the car, and the sight of him all tousled caused my breath to catch in my throat.

Seriously, breathe.

Inhaling and exhaling very slowly to blow out the last of my nerves, I gave myself a mini pep talk about how I shouldn’t hang too many – or any – hopes on this road trip then smiled as I walked around the side of the car and opened the passenger door.

The moment I settled myself in the passenger seat my nerves vanished. Honestly, I was sure ninety percent of my anxiousness came from the belief that Logan wouldn’t show up and I’d be left on the street corner, waiting, like the world’s unluckiest hooker.

But he did show up.

“Morning,” I said, brightly. “First stop coffee?”

Logan chuckled. “Maybe not just yet. But soon.”

Our first stop wasn’t for two hours, but that was okay with me. The time flew by as Logan and I chatted non-stop. For the whole first part of the journey, I couldn’t help the tiny part of my brain that censored my words before I spoke. Logan was about as laid back as a person could be, and I doubted there was much I could say that would make him wish he’d taken someone else, but my self-consciousness was running the show. It lessened along the way, though, and by the time we reached our stopping point I felt a little less like I was in over my head.

When we’d got our drinks and I’d had a few sips of the caffeine heaven in my hand, we found a vacant bench outside the service station and sat down, stretching out our legs and enjoying the freedom to move around a little.

“Early mornings aren’t your thing, are they?” Logan asked, watching me guzzle my latte, an amused grin spreading across his face.

I shook my head. “Not really. It’s not like I sleep until lunchtime every day, but at the time you picked me up, I’m usually on my second cup of tea, catching up on Facebook in bed. It is Saturday, after all. Besides,” I added with a smirk, “you look pretty relieved to be having coffee too.”

“Oh, I am. Getting up so early is unheard of for me at the weekend, but when you get the chance to see some great bands, you have to go for it.”

“Agreed.” A weird rippling sensation in my stomach made me almost drop my drink; he asked me to go with him!! Forcing my dorkiness in check and reminding myself I was an adult and not a fifteen-year-old, I smiled again. “This is going to be a good day.”

“Anyone you’re particularly looking forward to seeing?”

I reeled off a few band names then added, “Mostly I’m glad to be doing something other than watching re-runs of Mock The Week on YouTube. You’ve saved me from lazing around and whining about how dull my life is.”

I gave him a grin over the rim of my coffee cup to cover up the fact that I wasn’t entirely kidding. Mostly I found things to do at the weekends, but for the past few months, there had been a distinct lack of excitement in my world, and the Internet had become my best friend to make up for the fact that most of my real best friends either worked weekends, or had gone over to the dark side, i.e. got married and popped out a couple of kids. Already. I wasn’t against marriage and babies, but I couldn’t see myself doing any of that for at least five years. If not more.

“What happened to you?” Logan laughed. “Didn’t you used to be a party girl?”

I cringed a little at his words. A few years ago I may have had a bit of a reputation as a club fiend. Oh, the joys of Facebook and its ability to document all of your moves, even if you weren’t the one posting them. I dreaded to think how many pictures Logan might have seen of me after a few too many vodkas on nights out with friends.

“Ha!” I said, shaking off the embarrassment. “I used to go out, but not to the extremes of some people. I am looking forward to having a proper drink later though. It’s been forever.”

“Wait.” Logan faked a look of horror, his eyes widening. “You mean you’re not driving us home?”

“No chance! This girl wants… wait, what do people drink at music festivals?”

“You’re kidding?” Logan laughed so loud that some people nearby turned their heads towards us and I ducked, hiding behind my hair. “Oops,” he said, in almost a whisper. “Sorry, but you’re such an amateur! You’ve never been to a music festival before?”

“Nope, you’re popping my festival cherry.”

I caught a sparkle in his brown eyes. “Well, they don’t serve any fancy shit.”

“What do you think I drink?” I chuckled. “I’ll happily drink beer from a bottle. I mean, they do have beer, right?”

“Yes. They have beer. And now I’m going to sulk because I’ll have to stick to Coke.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have a beer for you too.”

Present

“All sounds positive so far,” Lydia says, taking a sip of her vodka and lemonade.

It’s two days later, the first chance I’ve had to see my best friend and tell her all that happened on the day that everything changed. We’re in one of our local pubs because, frankly, I need the fresh air after spending forty-eight hours mooching around my house with a dopey grin on my face.

Have you ever tried to hold off on sharing a memory, just because you’re scared that saying it out loud will taint it somehow? Lydia wanted to know every detail of the trip right away, but all I managed was a text saying, I’ll tell you soon xx

The thing is, when our plans changed during the course of the day, it threw me. I hadn’t expected to make so many memories, and looking back on them now is like recalling the details of a vivid, beautiful dream. I want to keep them safe, protected. I don’t want them analysed or picked apart because they’re fragile, and even the slightest question mark over the things that transpired will shatter those amazing images that play over and over in my head. To me, they are perfect.

But the best friend code states that best friends must be kept informed of all details of romantic or potential romantic situations. It’s the law.

“The journey was great,” I tell her, nodding. “You know you’re in for a good day when there’s more laughter than silence.”

She grins. “So, do you want to explain exactly how you went from, ‘We’re driving back tomorrow night’ to-”

I hold up my hands. “I will. But…”

“What?” Concern flickers in her blue eyes. I don’t mean to worry her, I’m just anxious. Anxious about sharing the memories. She’d been looking at me as if Logan and I had slipped into porno mode and spent the night going at it behind a beer tent. Not that that was beyond the realms of possibility. After all, it wasn’t as if I’d never thought about it. Not necessarily behind a beer tent, but… you know what I mean.

“Talking about this feels weird. I want to tell you everything because, let’s face it, nobody has listened to me drone on about Logan’s awesomeness more than you have. You deserve the Ultimate Bestie Award for putting up with me for so long. But also, it sort of feels like some parts of it should be kept private. Between me and him.”

“I don’t need to hear the full details if there is sex involved, Marnie.” She laughs. “But you’re right. I definitely deserve to hear the rest of this story, so keep talking!”

The Reminiscing Stage aka Everything Changes

“What the hell is going on with the weather?” Logan asked, quickly casting his eyes skyward before fixing them back on the road.

When we’d left home, the sun was shining. As we neared our destination, the clouds had grown darker, and the summer warmth had been replaced by a cool chill that made me reach into my bag for a jumper.

See, it really never hurts to be prepared.

“I’m hoping it’s just a glitch,” I said. “Maybe we’ll drive right through it.”

“We don’t have too much further to go now. About half an hour.”

I raised my eyebrows. My being prepared didn’t actually extend to an umbrella. Yes, we lived in the UK, and even in July the weather could be unpredictable, but I’d had high hopes, and visions of tanning while enjoying the music and knocking back… beers. Because that’s what people drink at festivals.

“Do you remember when we were younger and they had a music thing in town with local bands? They did it for a couple of summers when we were still at school, before they got cancelled because people got drunk and smashed up the shop windows.”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. I used to hang around down there with my mates. I remember you used to do the same thing.”

I flicked my head towards him. “You remember that?”

Jesus, I hope he doesn’t remember the fact that I used to blush every time he looked at me. Pretty hard to hide; I must have looked like a faulty human traffic light. Red when he saw me gazing at him, amber as I began to pale, and green as my stomach churned with nerves at him noticing my existence.

He smiled. “I remember. You used to be there with Lydia and… Kelly?”

“Kerry. Yes. We were usually there looking around for the guys in the fifth year, and we dressed in clothes we thought were cool, but actually, were ridiculous.”

I mean, really. Short skirts and t-shirts with slogans across our not-quite-fully-developed boobs, teamed with trainers, and our hair in high ponytails held back with scrunchies. It was no big shocker we didn’t get to hang out with the popular kids. We looked like eighties rejects, but without the neon.

“I’m surprised you remember me being there,” I said.

“I remember a lot of things.” Logan gave me a sideways smile, intriguing me.

“Such as?”

“Such as you and your friends drinking sneaky cans of shandy and trying to mount the stage.”

My cheeks heated and I closed my eyes, trying to pretend he hadn’t just said that. There was really no denying it. We weren’t drunk on the shandy, we were young and occasionally a little over-confident. One particular year at our town’s lame attempt at a live music event, Lydia had dared Kerry and me to touch the sexy lead singer of one of the bands while he was performing. Not a task that can be completed with subtlety considering the sheer number of people who showed up for the gig. We barely got a toe on the stage before the police guarding the area dragged us down and told us to go home.

“God. Of all the things you could have witnessed…”

“Even if I hadn’t, I’d have heard about it. You were legends at school!”

“I don’t know about that.” I laughed. “There were rumours going around that we were arrested!”

“But everyone thought it was cool.”

“That’s probably the most daring thing I’ve done in my life.”

“Aside from getting in a car with me.”

Logan’s smile sent butterflies flapping around my stomach, as again, the reality of what I was doing hit me. If only he knew I’d have clung to the freaking roof rack if it meant spending time with him.

“Well, a girl’s gotta take a risk now and again.” I gave him a cheeky wink, and he laughed again.

“You haven’t changed much, you know?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if that’s true. I have no plans to crash the stage today.”

“But you still have that mischievous thing going on. That twinkle in your eyes might blind me if I look right at it.”

My heart sang in my chest, joining the rhythmic flapping of the butterflies and creating a beautiful melody.

That could be the sound of your doom if you don’t get a grip on yourself.

Ah, that bloody cautious voice again. But Logan was right. I’d noticed this weird glint shining from my baby blues, like something inside me had ignited in anticipation of this trip, and it radiated from me, even when I was just doing my make-up in the mirror every morning, or when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window.

So much for not getting my hopes up, huh? But it was subconscious. And while I liked the sparkle, I’d tried to rein in everything it represented – the hope that maybe this would lead to something more.

“Well,” I said, calling on my inner mischievousness, “it would be a shame if my twinkle damaged your eyesight so you couldn’t see how good I look today.” I gestured to my face, giving him a look of mock seriousness. “I don’t wake up looking this good, you know?”

I gave his leg a playful poke, the first time I’d touched him all day, then pulled my hand back quickly, worried I’d crossed a line and hoping that feeling didn’t show on my face.

“Nobody wakes up looking good.” Logan didn’t flinch, and I settled back in my seat, relieved. “Well, except maybe… me.”

I chuckled, remembering how unkempt he was when he rocked up at my house. But he did look good. “And that is what hasn’t changed about you.”

His brows pulled together for a second, although his lips were still slightly tilted upwards at the corners. “What, my ability to look like a stud first thing in the morning?”

“No!” I shook my head. “Your arrogance.”

Logan placed one hand on his chest in a gesture of fake horror. “You hurt me, Marnie. That’s harsh.” His own eyes twinkled, and I had to try to conceal the sharp intake of breath my body wanted me to take at the sight of it, causing me to cough as my lungs freaked out in the confusion. I managed to turn my choke into a laugh so as not to splutter all over him.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you weren’t arrogant, but definitely not lacking confidence.”

“This from the girl who molests bands while they’re on stage!”

“That was stupidity!” I claimed. “Definitely not arrogance.”

His eyes shifted towards me again. “I’m not sure I was as confident as you think.”

“What’s not to be confident about? You’re… Logan Ryan.”

Quick thinking, replacing “You’re hot as hell” with his name. I was getting too relaxed; relaxed enough to blurt things out I couldn’t take back. Things that could make the rest of the day awkward, and ruin the banter we’d so easily slipped into. But he made everything so easy. It should have already been awkward with me fighting so hard to keep my feelings under control. Instead, being with Logan felt like the most natural thing in the world, like we should have been doing this the whole time we’d known each other instead of occasionally seeing each other when adult life wasn’t in the way. Nothing I’d done in the last few years had felt as simple as sitting beside him talking and laughing.

But those were the kind of thoughts that had led me to almost slip up.

My brain swirled with these contradicting thoughts. Always. Because dammit, I’d waited long enough, hadn’t I? Why not just throw the idea of spending more time with him out there and see where it led?

Because then… he’d know. And if he knew, he might run away screaming. Wasn’t it better to say nothing and have him in my life than confess and risk never seeing him again?

Sometimes it was better that way. Sometimes, however, keeping my mouth shut made my insides knot and caused me to lie awake, too restless to sleep.

**

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Logan’s words perfectly reflected my feelings as rain hammered down on the car, making it impossible to see out of the windows. I actually ducked when a gust of wind blew what looked like a bucket load of water down on the windscreen from the overhanging trees.

“This is not the weather I ordered,” I muttered then let out a small laugh. Just my luck. One day out with the guy I’d waited to spend forever with, and the sky decided to throw down a week’s worth of rain in five minutes. I hope this isn’t a sign of how the rest of the day is going to go. Dismal, dark, and disappointing.

Logan flicked on the car radio, but the only sound emitting from it was a loud crackle, as a low rumble of thunder came from overhead. He turned his head towards me. “Well, I can’t reach the local radio station, but I think it’s safe to say the festival is not going to happen.”

I briefly raised my eyebrows, letting out a sigh. “That’s my plan to make Ed Sheeran fall in love with me ruined.”

“And mine to make Rita Ora fall in love with me.”

An entirely irrational ripple of jealousy slithered down my spine. Rita freaking Ora? If that’s the kind of woman he’s into, I should probably give up now! I mean, I’d made the effort to look good, but underneath the make-up, I was still… me. Pale-skinned, dark-haired… imperfect. Okay, I had curves in my favour, although I’d have liked them to be a bit less curvy, but I’d never be able to rock skinny jeans and crop tops, or have the kind of face that men instantly fall in love with.

Marnie, get a grip.

I blinked a few times to clear my illogical doubts. “So… I guess we’ll head home when the rain slows down?”

Logan leaned forwards over the steering wheel, looking out at the road which was starting to flood from the downpour. “I think it’ll be a while.” He sighed too. “I’m really sorry, Marnie. This isn’t how I wanted today to go.”

“It’s not your fault.” I turned to him, completely empathising with the disappointment in his eyes. It wasn’t how I wanted the day to go either. I’d wanted music, sunshine and more of our playful conversations, not a car journey, a coffee and another car journey.

“No, but I dragged you all the way here and now there isn’t anything for us to see apart from… fucking rain.” He shook his head as he leaned back in his seat.

“You didn’t need to drag me,” I said, with more honesty than I’d planned. “I’m really glad you invited me. I guess we should have factored in that we live in England and the weather makes no sense at all.”

“Yeah.”

I turned my head to the passenger side window again, not that it did any good. The only thing visible was the streaming rain, completely blocking the view of the street we’d stopped in. I vaguely remembered we were in a residential area, but I hadn’t had a chance to see much of it before Logan had to park before we crashed due to low visibility.

Leaning down, I pulled my phone out of my bag, amazed to find I still had a signal. I called on my 3G and did an Internet search for the festival, just to be absolutely certain it was cancelled. Terrible weather happens at Glastonbury and that doesn’t get cancelled so maybe there was a chance we’d be lucky. Perhaps lucky wasn’t the right word – we were going to get wet – but at least we’d get the day out we’d planned.

It took approximately three seconds for my hopes to be dashed. The festival’s cancellation was headline news, and I held my phone out to Logan. “Yeah. Definitely cancelled.”

Logan wrinkled his nose. “Damn.”

I threw my phone back into my bag and dumped it back on the floor by my feet. A disappointed silence filled the car, the only sounds were our gentle breaths as we internally dealt with our own disillusionment at the way things had taken such a crappy turn, and the persistent rumblings of thunder.

“We could…” Logan began, then trailed off. “Nah, forget it.”

Really? Dude needs to understand that is not the kind of sentence a girl is ever going to “forget” about.

“Go on,” I encouraged. “What were you going to say?”

He tilted his head thoughtfully to one side. “We’ve driven for four hours. This storm is not going to let up any time soon. Maybe we could find a place to stay tonight and drive back tomorrow.”

The flip of my heart in my chest made me jolt in my seat – embarrassing since Logan was watching me. I shifted in my seat as his words sank in. Honestly, those were the last words I expected him to utter – well, aside from, “This has been the best road trip ever. I think we should get naked immediately.” The idea of that had me jolting again, and I tried to pull together something to say before he changed his mind.

“I… I’m… I don’t have anything with me for an overnight stay.”

Not true. I had my cosmetics counter in my bag.

“Me neither but we’re in Southampton. It’s not exactly the arse end of nowhere. There are shops around where we can grab what we need. And what do we really need anyway?”

“Well, underwear for tomorrow would be a good start.”

I tried not to cringe at the mention of undies, but since I’d been fighting to stop thinking about him ripping mine off, it wasn’t an easy task. The heat rose in my cheeks again and Logan laughed.

“I’m sure there’s a Primark or something around here.”

“Please.” I held my hand up, adopting an air of offence. “Do I look like the kind of girl who buys her knickers in Primark? I’ll have you know I’m a little more upmarket than that!”

I truly was kidding; Primark usually has a kickass selection of knickers, but my inner mischievousness had started running the show again, primarily to save me from the embarrassment of discussing my pants with Logan.

“Alright, Miss Fussy!” Logan laughed. “There’s probably something around here more suited to your refined tastes.”

“I’m sure there is, but how are we going to get there? We don’t know where we’re going, we can’t go anywhere in the car because we can’t see out of the windows, and we’re dressed for sunshine, not storms.”

“Jesus, woman! Talk about creating problems! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it at home with my umbrella.”

He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll go home when it stops raining so hard.”

I didn’t miss the smirk on his lips, and I bit my own lip to hold in a laugh. I couldn’t let this trip end yet. Screw it, even if we drowned on the way to the shops, it would be worth it just to be with him a bit longer. And it seemed like he genuinely wanted us to stay. Why, I had no clue, but I wasn’t about to question it.

“Let’s stay. I can suck it up and wear budget pants for one day.”