More Than Him (18 page)

"Kellie," she said, as if that was going to help me. "Kellie I E."

"Oh." Now I got it. "Kellie I E. Sad face emoticon?"

"Huh?" She looked taken aback.

"Nothing."

The guy behind the counter handed us our drinks.

"Shoot," Kellie I E huffed, looking in her bag. "O M G. WTF. I totes don't have my purse. Lol." She slapped her palm against her forehead. "I left it in the car."

I have no idea what the fuck she’d just said, but I handed the guy a twenty and covered her drink.

"Aaaww," she cooed. She had that annoying baby voice I hated so much. "You totes didn't have to do that. Soooo sweet."

"It's no problem." I started to walk away but she grabbed on to my arm. "Maybe you could give me your number, and I could pay you back some time."

I looked over her shoulder at Amanda. She was watching, but quickly looked down, paying attention to her phone when she caught my eyes.

"Not necessary," I replied, walking away from her.

Amanda stood when I reached the table. She took her drink from my hands and started to lift all her bags. "I gotta go." Her voice was firm.

"What?" I blocked her path. "Is something wrong?"

Loud, shrill, giggling filled the room. We both turned to see Kellie I E, Heidi-hot girl and a few others all watching us.

"I don't really feel like being patronized by a bunch of hot mean girls because I'm here with you," she mumbled.

My eyes narrowed at the girls, and then at her. "Did they say something to you?"

She shook her head. "They don't need to use words."

Amanda was amazing; she really was. Her confidence and carefree attitude was one of the things that drew me to her, but there was this part of her that seemed to turn into this young, insecure little girl at times like these. I never knew what caused it, or why she was like that. I never asked. I should ask.

"I just want go," she repeated. The girls giggled again. Her lips turned down at the corners.

"Amanda?"

She fixated on the floor. "Yes?"

"Are you jealous?"

She nodded. She looked so damn cute.

The group of girls got up and started walking towards us. She dropped her bags, stepped forward and wrapped her arms tight around me.

My shoulders shook with silent laughter. "What are you doing?"

She didn't look up from the floor. "Bitches need to know you're mine."

I lifted her chin with my finger and let my eyes roam her face. A slow smile formed on my lips. And then I said the words I'd wanted to say, ever since I saw her at that party. "I love you."

Her eyes went huge. "What did you say?"

"Don't act surprised. You know I love you. You know I've always loved you."

She grinned. "Say it again."

"I love you."

"Okay," she breathed out. "Now don't say it until I do."

"Yes, Demander."

The giggling girls got even closer.

"I love you," I yelled, loud and proud.

And then I kissed her.

It wasn't just to prove a point to those girls; it was to prove a point to her. She needed to know that she had nothing to worry about, at all. She was my person. She was it for me. Always.

***

We walked to her car, but she didn't get in. Holding both her hands in mine, I asked her, "Are we really doing this? You and me?"

She nodded. "Being amazing, you mean?"

I kissed her again. I couldn't stop fucking kissing her. "Yeah."

She looked down at the ground again. "I want to," she confirmed. "If you do."

I released her hands and held her face instead, making sure she was seeing me, really, truly, seeing me. "I want to. More than anything. You know how I feel."

She removed my hands from her face and placed them on her waist. Her arms curled around my neck, bringing us chest to chest. Heart to heart. "I just—I want to, I really do . . . but maybe—can we just keep it on the down low for a bit? Just until . . ." She blew out a breath. "Just until people get used to the idea."

I knew exactly what she was saying. I tried to pull away, but she held me closer. "You mean just until people won't judge you for taking me back?" Saying the words hurt more than her kick in my gut earlier. I knew she'd have some barriers to overcome, and I'd overcome them with her. I wasn't lying when I told her that I'd fight for her. It's the least she deserved.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"I don't like the idea of us sneaking around."

"It's not sneaking around," she said, unconvincingly.

I ignored her, and held her in my arms. "Stay with me tonight."

She laughed. "You're not sick of me?"

"Never."

"I have to work."

"Fuck work."

She laughed again.

My head dropped to her shoulder. "I just want to be with you
all
the time." Seriously, someone needs to put an APB out on my balls. She started stroking my hair like I was a scared, sad, lost little kid. Maybe that's exactly what I was.

She kissed the side of my head. "Baby, I have three more days of classes, and then I'm all yours."

I hugged her tighter. "Mine?" I said into her shoulder.

"All yours."

18

Amanda

I finished work at midnight and waited for Tony to be done so he could walk me to my car. Sitting on the bar stool, I pulled the phone out of my bag and checked the messages.

Unknown number:
I know you're working, and that's fine. But just FYI—I'm up. You know, in case you're not tired and feel like hanging out . . .

Unknown number:
Or not . . .

Unknown number:
I mean, you're welcome to come over, regardless of time.

Unknown number:
Fuck, I'm spamming your inbox. Either way. You don't have to, but the invite is there.

Unknown number:
Shit. This is Logan.

Unknown number:
Fuck, ignore all my previous messages. I'm going to sleep.

Unknown number:
I lied. I'm wide awake. Offer stands

Unknown number:
Did I say it was Logan?

I couldn't help the grin that took over my face. He answered first ring. "I know what you're thinking. Maybe a fifteen-year-old girl had stolen my phone and was texting those things to you. I'd love to say it's true, but I'd be lying. Please don't think I'm crazy. I mean I am. Over you. Shit. I just really want to see you. Bad. Wait. Do I sound like Nicholas Sparks?"

My laugh interrupted his rambling. "Logan, stop. Let me just call E and tell him I won't be home ton—"

"Wait." It was his turn to interrupt. "I just invited you to come over." His tone switched to amusement. Cocky, even. "I didn't say anything about spending the night. It's a little presumptuous of you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I teased back. "Plus, I've kind of triple booked with my other boyfriends. They might get upset."

"Shut up, don't even joke about that," he said playfully, then, in a more serious tone, "Call me when you're nearly here. I'll wait out the front. Don't get out of your car unless I'm there, okay?"

I agreed.

Amanda:
I'm going to a late-night study session at one of the dorms. I'll probably just crash there.

Ethan:
Is your phone charged? You got mace? Is the building secure? Have you got gas?

Amanda:
Yes, Dad. I'll be fine. I love you.

Ethan:
Call me in the morning.

Ethan:
Please.

Ethan:
You know I worry about you.

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I hated lying to him. I hated the sneaking around. I stared at my phone, deciding whether or not to call Logan and cancel. It chimed and vibrated in my hand.

Logan:
I'm out the front waiting. Can't wait to see you.

***

We walked up the five flights of stairs hand in hand, but we didn't speak. Not until we were in his apartment. He closed the door behind us, and checked the four locks at least three times. Then we just stared at each other, awkwardly. Kind of like the first time you're alone with a boy and you want to do so many things at once, but the idea of it makes you hold back, and you just stand there and do nothing.

"So." That was him.

This was me. "So."

Smooth, right?

He closed the space between us and loosely linked our fingers together. "How was work?" There was a slight mocking in his tone, as if the question had been asked a thousand times in the past, or a thousand times in our future. My chest tightened at the thought. This could be our future.

I tried to hide my smile. His teeth clamped around his bottom lip, doing the same. There was a certain energy around us: excited, anxious, nervous, terrifying. He lifted our hands and placed my palm flat against his heart. It thumped so hard, so fast against my skin. He sighed. "I know I saw you this morning, but shit, I miss you so damn much."

My eyes drifted closed at the same time as his lips found mine. I sucked in a quick breath on contact, let my body relax, and let it out in a moan into his mouth.

I felt myself falling. Again.

He released his hold on my hands and placed one on the small of my back, the other in my hair. He deepened the kiss. His tongue brushed against my lips, my teeth, and then my mouth. I gripped onto his shirt. I needed to hold onto something so it would hurt less when my feet landed back on earth.

He pushed me backwards until my back hit the door. He never pulled away from the kiss. Not once. My hands went under his shirt. I needed to
feel
him. My nails dug in when his mouth moved to my neck, kissing and biting gently. I inhaled deeply, needing the air in my lungs as much as I needed
him.

His hand went to my thighs, bringing my legs up and around his waist while he pinned me to the wall. I didn't stop him. I didn't mind. Not at all. The need in my body caused a buzzing in my brain.

He cupped a breast with one hand and my ass with the other. A deep guttural moan escaped him, right before his mouth met mine again. These kisses, they were different. They weren't fueled by lust. They weren't demanding. It was passionate, but slow. So slow. As if he were taking me in for the first time. Treasuring me.

Suddenly, he pulled his face away and cursed under his breath. I slowly dropped my legs to the floor while he took a step back and away from me.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "That's not why I asked you over. I lost control. I'm sorry." He shook out his hand.

"Hey." I cooed. "I didn't exactly try to stop you." I placed me hand on his face but he pulled away.

"I know. It's just—" He blew out a breath. "I just don't want you to think that that's all I want, you know? That's not—I mean—fuck." His eyes shifted, glaring at his shaking hand. He covered it with the other. Agony consumed his features while his chest heaved.

"Logan." I took his trembling hand between both of mine and kissed it a few times. It seemed to help when I'd done it in the past.

His breath becomes steady, and after a few seconds, his hand settled. "What's going on?"

He chewed his lip but refused to look me in the eyes, instead opting to look past me. Then he was off and walking to the kitchen.

I followed.

He pulled out two beers from the fridge, and offered me one. I declined, so he exchanged it and handed me a bottle of water. His head tilted back to take a swig, but his eyes focused on me. When he was done, he placed the bottle on the counter, but then dropped his head forward. He rubbed his palm against his jaw. "I just don't want to fuck this up." He said it so quietly, I didn't know if I’d heard right.

I stepped forward so I was right in front of him. His hand went to my waist. "What?"

His eyes lifted to my face, darting around, taking me in. "You know, the time I was gone, I never stopped thinking about you. I knew that coming home would mean maybe running into you. I swear, I hoped you'd just talk to me." He swallowed loudly, and shook his head. "I just hoped you'd talk to me, maybe get a meal once or twice. But I never thought—I mean—never in my dreams did I even want to imagine that we could be this." He pointed his finger between us. "I never thought that you'd want
us
again, not after what I did. And now we're here. You're here. And I don't want to fuck it up. I can't, Amanda. I can't fuck this up." His eyes started to glaze over but he wiped at them before I could grasp what was happening. "You can't let me fuck this up, Amanda. Please." He was pleading with me. Begging.

And then I felt a tear drop on my arm. It was mine. I hadn't even known I was crying. I sniffed back my emotions but he must've heard. "Don't cry," he said, wiping my cheek with his thumb. He kissed me once. "Please don't cry." He kissed me again, but didn't pull back. "I can't be the one to keep making you cry."

***

We went up to the rooftop; both of us needed some air. He sat on the outdoor sofa with his beer, and I sat on the table in front of him. "I heard you weren't supposed to drink while you were on your meds," I told him. I'd studied the shit out of Xanax, just so I knew what to expect if things ever got really bad.