Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) (35 page)

“Feel better?” Nate asked two hours later when I joined him at a table out in the backyard.

I glared at him, a drink in my hand. I didn’t want to think about it. It had been Taylor in front of me. Taylor I was kissing. Taylor I slid inside of. Taylor making those sounds. Thinking of it now, I downed half of my drink. It burned my throat, but that was good. I needed some searing pain to erase some of that shit.

“Oh, joy.” Nate’s sarcasm was not subtle. “Look! Another girl’s coming over with sex eyes. You going to bang her, too?”

“Fuck you.”

“No, Logan.” Nate shot forward, glaring at me across the table. “Fuck you.”

There were others at the table with us, but whatever they said fell on deaf ears. I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t there to be social and joke, or play the happy Logan Kade. I was there for one purpose: to get Taylor Bruce out of my head. And it wasn’t working. She was still with me. I could feel her beside me. I could see her eyes, and I knew how hurt she would look when she realized what I’d done. I could already feel the disappointment.

Fuck
. I finished my drink and shoved back from the table. I needed another one. Knowing the rest of the night would be a drunken stupor, I took out my keys and tossed them to Nate. “You’re going to have to drive.”

He pocketed them, giving me that knowing look Mason always wore. “Sure,” he said. “If you actually go home with me.”

“Hey, Logan!” The sex-eyes girl got to the table and leaned her chest toward me. She wasn’t there for anyone else—that was obvious. As I looked at her, she tugged her shirt down and licked her lips, the invitation more than clear.

I grinned at her, not even looking at her face. My gaze was trained solely on her rack. They were full. A good C cup, bordering on a D. And even though I wasn’t touching them, I knew they’d have good bounce. They were probably fake, but I didn’t give a shit. They’d be nice to look at if she rode me.

“Look, I don’t know if I can go another round right now,” I told her, thinking about that image. “But find me in a couple of hours. Then I can make some magic happen.”

She giggled. “Sounds good.” She leaned close and whispered, her hand running down my chest. “You can just come home with me. You can have me all night and any way you want. How about that?”

That sounded...empty. Why would she want that? But I flashed her a grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

Her hand dropped to my dick, and she pressed against it through my jeans. It was quick, but enough to give me a good preview of the night to come. As she turned to leave, her breasts grazed my arm, and I was right. Firm. They were possibly my new favorite thing after asscheeks. Once she headed back inside, I could feel Nate’s gaze on me, and I ignored him.

He knew I was pissed, but he didn’t know about what, and he didn’t know how deep this burning pain went. It went all the way to the core. That was how far Taylor had gotten in.

“Like I said…” Nate stood up. “That’s
if
you’re going home with me tonight.” He brushed past me, tossing his beer bottle into the trash and heading back inside the house.

I glanced around. Still feeling Taylor—smelling her vanilla scent and hearing the last thing she’d laughed about—I gripped the glass in my hand. I needed shots, and a lot of them.

TAYLOR

After Logan left, I sat up there on that roller coaster for another hour. I stayed until I could finally feel the cold. Before that, I felt nothing. I welcomed something finally slipping inside of me, something other than emptiness.

I climbed down, and I was able to squeeze back through a hole I found in the fence. I sat on the curb, wrapped my arms around my knees, and bent my forehead to rest on my legs. If I could have closed in on myself, I would have. But that position warded off some of the night’s chill, so I sat back up. I wanted to feel that. I sat and shivered and waited for the cab I’d called.

I wouldn’t be the type of girl who clung to a guy when I was hurting. I wouldn’t be that person. Nothing good could come of it. I was broken inside, and even though Logan’s
Fuck you
still echoed in my head, I knew this had been the right thing to do.

He’d see that, too. Eventually.

I was still telling myself that when the cab arrived, its lights sweeping over me. And I was still reminding myself when it pulled up at my house. Stepping inside, I dropped my purse by the door and my keys on the counter. I’d been at Logan’s, and I’d gotten used to how alive his home was. It was full of people, of life, of love. I perused the darkened entrance hall, then moved to stare at the living room.

Empty.

Dull.

Nothing.

That was what I felt as I stood inside my home.

“Taylor?”

My dad came from the kitchen wearing his plaid robe over pajama pants and a white T-shirt—what he always used to wear at night. He also wore the slippers he always used to wear around the house.

I pointed at them and said hoarsely, “Those stupid things. You’re wearing them again.”

He looked down and lifted a leg in the air. He laughed. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t even think. They were by the nightstand, so I just slipped ’em on. Habit.”

I’d given them to him as a Christmas present three years ago. The slipper was a mallard duck, but the green coloring had faded. One had a rip that my mom had tried to stitch up a few months before she died.

“I made that rip,” I said through tears. “Mom was carrying them, and one snagged on a nail from the stupid DIY project I was trying to do.” I’d been rushing past, in a hurry to meet Eric. The words would hardly come now. “I told her to toss ’em, that I’d buy you a new pair, but she wouldn’t listen. She said you loved them. That they were your ‘habit’ slippers. I didn’t know what she meant, but I didn’t care. Eric was waiting for me.”

My dad laughed, still gazing down at the slipper rather than acknowledging my tears. “Your mom was right. I’d gotten used to them, but I would’ve loved the new pair, too.” He passed by me, patting me on the arm.

I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes.

Pausing at the steps, he turned back and frowned. “It’s almost four in the morning. What are you doing still up?”

Oh, Dad. My heart felt like it had been torn in half. “I had an all-nighter at the library,” I said.

“Oh.” He nodded. “Good to know. Study hard, Taylor. You always do so well. ’Night, honey.”

I hadn’t slept at the house in five nights. The library closed at midnight, and he was wearing his mallard duck slippers. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. Tomorrow was Saturday. My dad would leave because that was what he did, and I wouldn’t see him for another few days.

I sat at the bottom of the steps and laughed.

HOLY SHIT!

TAYLOR

“We’re going bowling tonight,” Jeremy Fuller explained. “It should be fun.”

I had the phone tucked between my ear and shoulder. “Mmm-hmmm.”

“You’re going to come? Professor Gayle will be there. The professors are joining us tonight.”

I had been tying my shoelaces during that last part. I planned a quick jog before going to work, but Jeremy’s call had caught me by surprise. I answered without looking at who it was and then panicked. For a moment, I’d thought it was Logan calling, but then I recognized the voice.

Jeremy had been calling more and more over the last three weeks. He apologized with the first call, saying he had no right to say what he had against Logan…and I kept quiet on that subject. I knew he knew. Everyone knew, but I couldn’t lie that it felt nice to have someone else calling me. Logan, on the other hand, hadn’t called or texted. Silence. He didn’t sit by me in sociology. He sat with a group of girls in the back of the room instead, but he didn’t act like I was a total stranger either. He offered a polite hello and nod once in a while. Each time it was like a knife being shoved into me, then twisted around for maximum pain.

I had no one to blame, and that was my attitude. I’d chosen this, and every time it happened, I reminded myself that in the long run, it would be worth it. I could still walk, talk, and think. I hadn’t been reduced to a pile of nothing. I would find a way to get stronger, get through this, though I hadn’t known it was possible to feel this alone.

Every time I saw that guarded mask looking my way, I returned the polite greeting, and we moved past each other, like mere acquaintances.

“...you up? If you want.”

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Oh, no. That’s fine. No worries about it.”

“What?” I sat on the edge of my bed with my foot in front of me. I lowered my leg to the floor and sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I was distracted for a moment. What were you saying?”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a beat, then he coughed. “Uh. I was offering to pick you up, and don’tworryI’mpickingupsomeotherstoo. It’s not just you.”

“This is tonight, right?”

“Tonight? Oh, yes. Tonight. Yes.”

“I have a shift at Pete’s Pub today, but I get off early. I can come later?”

“Did you want me to give you a ride?”

“No. That’s okay. I’ll drive over myself.”

“Great. I’ll make sure we stay later, then, till whenever you get there.”

“Okay. Perfect. Thanks for the invite, Jeremy.”

And I did mean it, I realized after signing off and tucking my phone into my pocket.

It was ten in the morning. I did a few warm-up stretches and started off. I could do three miles, shower, and be at work right on time. As I ran, I thought about the phone call. This bowling was the first social event I’d been invited to in the last month. Jason was still gone, and Claire had stopped talking to me. I didn’t know the reason, but I also didn’t have the energy to go and find out. If she stayed away, then she stayed away. She hadn’t reached out after hearing that whatever I’d had with Logan was done either. And I knew she’d heard. Just walking around campus, I overheard stories about him at parties—who he’d hooked up with, who only gave him a blowjob. I’d heard about a few fights, and how he ‘finished’ them. His notoriety hadn’t weakened since our demise. But then again, no one else seemed surprised by the stories. To them, this was the normal Logan. Manwhore. Partier. Fighter. No wonder he was legendary, as he would’ve called himself.

I smiled in spite of myself, thinking about that as I turned down another block of houses. I didn’t notice the guy at first because I was busy realizing it hadn’t hurt as much to think about Logan this time. But then I realized he was near.

His Escalade caught my attention first. Then I saw a guy leaving a house and heading for the street. He moved toward the car, drawing closer as I did the same.

My stomach sank. It was Logan, and as my head turned, he saw me at the same time. His eyes widened before his mask slipped in place in the next instant, but I couldn’t react as quickly as him. My mind was whirling. Logan didn’t live here. Why would he… It clicked then, and I didn’t want to look, but my head moved of its own accord. I stared at the house he’d come from, and I saw a girl there, watching from the window in a skimpy tank top and barely there boy shorts. Seeing me, recognition flooded her eyes, and she disappeared from the window. Her door opened the next second, and she moved out to her front porch, her hands resting on her slim hips.

I came to a stop, not realizing it, until Logan said, “You run?”