Текст книги "And It All Comes Down To You"
Автор книги: Kyra Lennon
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The Truth-Telling Stage aka And It All Comes Down To You
In spite of the aged look of the pub, the food was particularly good, even if the music choices hadn’t improved much. Two hours after finishing our food, Logan and I remained in our booth, knocking back the bottles of beer we should have been drinking out in the open air.
“All in all, it hasn’t been a bad day,” Logan said, placing his bottle on the table.
“Were you expecting to have a bad day?” I asked. It wasn’t with the nervousness that had accompanied every other question that had the potential to break my heart, though. My confidence had soared with the alcohol. I was by no means drunk, or even close, but the beer had knocked the edge off any lingering doubts I had about whether Logan truly wanted me there.
“No. But… I didn’t think it would be this good considering everything we were supposed to do got ruined.”
I nodded. “It’s been fun.”
My stomach was still hurting from it all – I expected rock hard abs after the amount of exercise they’d had from laughing.
“And it’s not over yet,” Logan added. “You do realise I plan to drink you under the table?”
With a cocky eyebrow raise, I said, “Good luck with that. I have Irish blood in me and we absorb alcohol like a sponge. You will be drunk way before me!”
“We’ll see. Don’t forget I train for this most weekends!”
“Rubbish! I have never once seen a drunken photo of you on social media. That means you are either really good at dodging cameras, or you never get drunk.”
He held his hands up. “Okay. You got me. But I still reckon I can stay sober longer than you.”
I raised my bottle and took another sip. “Good luck with that.”
“Seriously though,” Logan said, his eyes fixing on mine and causing that familiar tingle to shoot up and down my spine. “Thanks for being so cool about everything. I’m glad we stayed, even if we did get a bit wet.”
“A bit?” I choked. “That was more than a bit! But I agree. And thank you for putting up with me for the day.”
I purposely lowered my gaze from his because I wasn’t quite ready to stare into his eyes just yet. Sounds silly when I’d wanted that for so long, but the tone of our conversation had changed, and I’m not immune to moments of insecurity. Probably never will be.
“It’s been a pleasure. Especially that part when I made you scream in the shop.”
The teasing grin on his face made my temperature rise, and I gave him a gentle kick under the table. “That was not my favourite part of the day!”
“What was?”
Lying beside you. Holding hands.
I wasn’t ready to say that out loud either. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for that. How could I explain that my favourite part of the day didn’t exist. There wasn’t one moment, not really. It was all one long moment of epic that had given me the answers to the questions I’d had. The Logan I’d created in my mind was a real person, not one I’d fabricated. Of course, this didn’t help my feelings for him. It made them stronger, and I had a decision to make. Should I tell him? I had the handy help of booze to blame if it all went wrong…
But I wasn’t drunk enough to pull it off. And I didn’t want to be drunk. If I was drunk, he probably would be too, and after all this time, if I was going to make a confession, I wanted it to mean something. I wanted it to be real.
“I liked the part when Mrs Kay asked if we were married, and I momentarily thought she was serious.”
Logan laughed. “You should have seen your face! But yeah, that was funny.”
“I’m not sure I understand the concept of getting married so young,” I said, thoughtfully. “I think that was what surprised me the most – that she would think anyone would be tied down at our age.”
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Tied down? I didn’t think you’d see marriage that way.”
“I don’t. But young marriage is… brave, I guess.”
“Wow. You’re not who I thought you were. Didn’t you used to spend hours of your time watching the older boys at school and hoping to bag one of them?”
“Yes!” I laughed. I’d already confessed as much, there was no point in being embarrassed. “But I never said I wanted to marry them.”
“Please,” Logan said. “Don’t tell me you’re not a romantic. You’re a girl!”
I didn’t mind him pulling the “girl” card on me. His assessment wasn’t totally wrong. I listened to swoony music and imagined my wedding day occasionally, but the older I got, the more… maybe not cynical, but certainly careful, I’d become.
“I’m sort of a cautious romantic. Yes, I grew up reading and watching fairy tales, so of course, I believe in the happy ending. I want the happy ending. But love is a weird thing. You fall in love with another person, and you basically hand over your heart and spend the rest of the time praying they don’t damage it. It takes a hell of a lot of trust to hand that over. If, or when, something goes wrong, you can’t repair that damage. Sure, the scars fade over time but they don’t leave. They stay, as an ugly reminder that you trusted the wrong person. And each one makes you more afraid to fall in love again, because how many times can you get it wrong before the scars don’t heal? Before you become too scared to try again?”
Logan blew out a breath. “I wasn’t expecting to get this deep.”
I raised my glass again. “It’s the alcohol. It makes me think.”
He nodded. “I get what you’re saying and I agree. I’m just surprised you feel that way. I thought you’d be a ‘love conquers all’ and ‘you should never give up on finding love’ kind of person.”
“I am, to an extent. But the whole concept does blow my mind and terrify me too. Giving someone so much of yourself is scary. I think it’s worth it, but it’s hard to let go and just… be okay with the fear.”
Another thing I’d come to realise as Logan and I grew closer was that having someone in my life I could have fun with was more important than everything else my family expected of me when it came to settling down. I viewed those things as optional extras; lovely to have but not absolutely necessary to live a fulfilled life.
Logan stared at me, his eyes soft as they met mine and this time I didn’t look away. “Who hurt you, Marnie?”
His tone was gentle, and it washed over me, calming me enough to consider answering the question. I knew what he was asking; he wanted to know which of my very few boyfriends had made me hold back, but the truth was so much deeper.
“Me,” I said, eventually, my voice shaking. Logan’s eyebrows pulled together, and I licked my lips to moisten them since they’d suddenly become dry as I realised how honest I’d been, and where my words were taking me. A place that certainly isn’t cautious.
“What do you mean?”
When he reached for my hand, every place our flesh touched burned, but it brought a fresh wave of fear and I pulled back. Because the guy in front of me was a friend. He was concerned for me like a friend. And even if it was more, there was so much at stake. Too much to lose if it all went wrong. I’d gotten close to him like I’d wanted, but in some ways, that had made things a hell of a lot scarier than when I’d been looking at him through rose-tinted glasses. Now the glasses were off, everything was still rose-coloured, and I had nothing to protect me. No doubts that I was wrong about him.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. Can you give me a minute?”
Without waiting for a reply, I stood up and speed-walked across the pub, inexplicable tears filling my eyes as I pushed through the doors and out onto the street. The rain continued to fall, matching my tears, and I wiped them away, trying to get a hold of myself as cars whizzed past me, kicking up the water from the gutter and getting me wetter.
What just happened? A perfectly reasonable conversation had turned into me making a melodramatic exit. Way to ruin a great day by being a total and utter girl.
I couldn’t help it, though. Being so close to Logan yet not quite having the nerve to try to get closer triggered my emotions, my memories. The sheer length of time I’d known him and wanted him overwhelmed me.
“Marnie.”
The sound of his voice made me shiver – although I’m sure the cold rain had something to do with it too. I turned as he approached me, wrapping my arms around myself as he got closer.
“Marnie? What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”
Cringe.
“No. God, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” I trailed off, unsure how to explain.
He placed his hands on the tops of my arms and I raised my head to meet his eye. “Marnie, what…? Why did you walk out?”
“Please, Logan. I just need a second.”
“You’re getting soaked again, though.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I allowed him to lead me away from the pavement and back towards the shelter of the pub. The awning hanging over the beer garden provided us a little respite from the rain, although we were both drenched once again.
Shit. Why did I make such a big deal out of this?
Logan’s arm dropped from my shoulders and he turned me to face him again. “I’m really sorry if I said something stupid.”
I shook my head again. “You didn’t. I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I almost did.”
“Why did you stop yourself?”
I laughed. “Because saying that requires more bravery than I have.”
Logan’s hand slid from my shoulder up to my cheek, brushing away my tears and raindrops with the pad of his thumb. The move made my stomach tighten. It was a far more intimate movement than I’d expected or was used to from him. He took a small step closer to me, not close enough for our bodies to touch, but close enough that he could probably hear my heart beat. It was loud enough to drown out the sound of the cars, the rain, and the faint music from inside the pub.
“Let’s pretend you are brave,” he said. “What would you say?”
This was it. My chance. My moment. With his brown eyes gazing into mine, I took a deep breath and said, “If I was brave, I’d say that today was the best day ever. That I’ve waited since I was a dorky twelve-year-old to spend this much time with you. That I’ve thought about you almost every day since I’ve known you, and over the past year, you’re the first thing I think of when I wake up. I’d tell you that if we spend too much time not speaking, I doubt everything. I worry that you never really liked me, and you just… I don’t know… felt sorry for the girl who so obviously has a thing for you.” I paused to wipe away a fresh wave of tears. “I’d tell you that I’m scared we’ll go home tomorrow and I won’t see you for months, and I’ll let myself forget how amazing today has been. And I know it wasn’t perfect, but it kind of was because we’re both here together, and that’s something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. It all comes down to you, Logan. Every time.”
Logan closed his eyes, blowing out a slow breath, and a huge shuddering sigh pushed past my lips. I’d ruined it.
I pushed his hand away, but as it fell from my cheek, he used it to take a hold of my waist. “If you were brave,” he said, softly.
“Right. But I’m not. I’m stupid. And I’m sorry.”
I attempted to push him away again but Logan pulled me closer, and this time our bodies did touch. Our wet clothes seeped into each other, and I stared at him, confused. Why hadn’t he said those words I’d expected to hear every time I’d imagined telling him how I felt? “Marnie, you’re a really nice girl, and I love having you as a friend, but...” Those were the words I’d tried to run away from, because they had to be coming, didn’t they? Only in movies does the guy say what you truly want to hear.
“Marnie. Do you think I invited you out today because I have no other friends? Or that I suggested staying over because I couldn’t be bothered to drive home again? I wanted you to come with me, and I didn’t want to go home because if we had I wouldn’t have had the chance to spend the day with you.”
“What?” The word spluttered out because I hadn’t fully taken in what he’d said. It was hard to do with him so close. So focused on me.
He smiled and I couldn’t help it, I rested my hands on his damp hips. Part of the reason was to keep myself upright as his words began to trickle into my consciousness. The other part was that I wasn’t afraid anymore. It was okay to touch him now.
God, it felt good.
“I don’t stay away from you because I want to. I stay away from you because I don’t know if you really want me around.” He laughed softly. “Well, I didn’t know.”
My eyes narrowed slightly. “How could you have not known? And if you thought that, why did you invite me to the festival?”
He tilted his head to one side. “If you thought I felt sorry for you, why did you come?”
Fair point.
“So… are you? I mean…”
Nope. There weren’t enough words to explain what I wanted to say. My mouth had fully dried out, my tears were still falling, and my hair now clung to my cheeks as my clothes stuck to my body. Somehow, with Logan pressed against me, none of that mattered.
“I want to see you,” Logan said, his mouth hovering so close to mine his breath warmed my cheek. “All the time. I want to be with you.”
All I could do was nod. I wanted to tell him I wanted that too, but I’d said enough. More than enough. I lowered my eyelids, glancing at Logan’s lips as they moved slowly closer to mine. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
His lips brushed mine softly, feather light, and everything around us faded into the background. The only things left in the whole world were Logan and me, our mouths pressed together, our hands holding each other tightly, clinging to each other, to the moment. Every part of our bodies touched, and that fire re-ignited inside me again. The warmth of him seeped into my skin, into my bones, floating through my bloodstream and making my heart swell in my chest.
“How inappropriate would it be if I made a remark about getting you out of those wet clothes?” Logan murmured before kissing me again. His husky tone made my knees buckle and I held him tighter.
“Totally inappropriate,” I told him, running a hand through his thick, rain-sodden hair. “I like it.”
Present
Lydia’s grin perfectly mirrors mine as she reaches for my hands across the table and squeezes them, letting out a squeal of excitement.
“I can’t believe you finally told him.”
“I can’t believe it either. If I’d stopped to think it through, I would have said nothing, and I’d be sitting here with you complaining about how nothing will ever change, and how he can’t like me, and blah, blah, blah.”
“You took a chance. A really fucking big chance, and it paid off.”
I raise my eyebrows. “It sure did.”
Lydia slaps one of my hands in mock surprise at the cheeky look on my face. “So, did you do it?”
I laugh out loud and squeeze her hands again. “Well, we were wet from the rain and…”
“Not just the rain!”
“Lydia! I mean, you’re right but… we did have to change when we got back to the B&B anyway so…”
Her eyes widen and she squeals again. “You little hussy!”
Since I’d told her I wouldn’t give her details, I stop there, and let her bask in my happiness while I think over the things that transpired when we got to our room after our confessions. It may have taken us years to get there, but Logan was well worth waiting for. A perfect mix of sexy and sweet. Our first night together is one of the memories I want to keep safe. Maybe I’ll write them down so when I’m old and wrinkly, I can remind myself that I used to have fun, and that sometimes, taking a leap of faith can bring everything you’ve searched for.
About The Author
Kyra Lennon is a self-confessed book-a-holic, and has been since she first learned to read. When she's not reading, you'll usually find her hanging out in coffee shops with her trusty laptop and/or her friends, or girling it up at the nearest shopping mall.
Kyra grew up on the South Coast of England and refuses to move away from the seaside which provides massive inspiration for her novels. She published her first novel in July 2012, and her novella, If I Let You Go and Blindsided (Game On Book 2) soon followed.
To find out more about Kyra, check out her blog, website, follow her on Twitter, Facebook or Pinterest, or drop her an email at [email protected]
To receive alerts for Kyra Lennon's new releases, you can sign up to her mailing list.
Other Books by Kyra Lennon
The Game On Series
Game On
Blindsided
A Very Game On Christmas (super short novella, not a complete story)
Sidelined
The Razes Hell Series
Nobody Knows
Novellas
If I Let You Go
Mistletoe & Memories (written as Matilda Maxwell)
