The Fine Line (22 page)

“Well…yeah…But it doesn’t sound right when you say it.”

“That’s because it’s not right!  It’s not okay!” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair.  “Goddammit, I’ve been thinking about this all day.  I just don’t know how the fuck to get around it.  I don’t know if I can.”

The shock from his words silenced me.  I don’t know how long we sat idling quietly.  Finally, Logan broke the silence.  “I can’t.” he said as if he had just figured it out.  He looked at me.  “Liv, I love you.  I love you, do you understand that?  I can’t sit by and watch anymore while you go out with other guys.  I can’t fucking do it,” he sighed and brought his trembling fingers to the bridge of his nose.  “And I also know that I can’t change you.  And I shouldn’t want to.”

Oh my God.  Not now.  Not already.  Not after everything we’ve been through!

“Logan, please don’t do this.”  I could barely breathe from the enormous rock that formed in my throat.  Droplets accumulated in my eyes, blurring my vision.

“I thought last night meant you were finally mine,” he continued.  “I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that it’s never going to happen.  You’ll never be mine, will you?”  A tear trickled down his left cheek as his broken eyes begged me to stop him.

I’ve always been yours!

Petrified by fear of losing him, my mind went completely blank as every last atom in my body tried to figure out how to make him stay without giving up my independence.  There was no getting around the fact that he needed control, and I could never be happy under the control of someone other than myself. 

This was all happening way too fast.  My entire body began to tremble.  Tears welled in my eyes as nausea crept up my throat and a small whimper came out of me. 

“Oh fuck, Liv.  Please don’t cry,” he said as he turned away from me.  “I’m so sorry.  I can’t.  We can’t.”  He wouldn’t look at me.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t see you anymore.  I can’t do it.  Not like this.”

My jaw dropped open. 

But you said you love me.  You said you’d never be done with me.

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, but I remained silent.  This was the moment I had feared since that first almost-kiss.  The moment that I had taken every possible crucial precaution to avoid.  The moment which was inevitable, no matter how hard I tried to stop it.

I wanted to touch him.  I wanted to kiss him.  I wanted him to wrap his warm arms around me and hold me.  I wanted to change his mind, but he had made his decision.  He didn’t want to try.  He didn’t want me anymore.  He didn’t want me enough. 

I studied his perfect face, committing it to memory, devastated that it would be the last time I’d be this close.  Then, slowly, it began to kick in.  The numb.  The un-feeling.  The barrier that had deteriorated to barely anything had begun rebuilding itself.  I took a deep breath, and finally my body calmed to a functional point and the tears slowed.  Thank God it was coming back.

“I understand,” I said robotically.  It was true.  I understood why it could never work.  He didn’t trust anyone.  Not even me.  I didn’t trust anyone either.  Not even him.

After taking one last look at the interior of his car, but not at him—I needed to remain strong and looking at him could easily break me—I opened the door and stepped out.  

The moment I closed the car door, his tires squealed as he rushed the car wildly out of the lot and down the strip.  I watched until I couldn’t see the car anymore.  Then, I watched some more.  My last glimmer of hope faded as the wall continued to build itself back up around me.  He was never coming back.

I didn’t realize I was cold until my keys fell out of my fingers.  When I tried to pick them up, my frozen fingers refused to grasp them. 

“Shit!” I shouted.  “Shit!”  My foot kicked the front tire of my car.  “Goddammit!”

“Olivia, is everything okay?” Stacy called as she stepped out the front door of Frank’s.

Embarrassed, I turned to face her.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  I dropped my keys, and I can’t pick them up.  My hands are frozen.”

“Oh my God, hon!  How long have you been out here?”  She took my keys off the ground and handed them to me.  When she saw my face up close, a look of concern came over her.  “Is everything okay?  Have you been crying?  What happened?”

“I’m fine, just having a bad night.”  This was not something I wanted to discuss with my manager.

“Alright, well, you know I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.  You’ve got my cell number, right?”

“Yeah, thanks, Stacy.  Really, I’m fine.” 

“Okay, hon.  Warm up!  See you tomorrow.”

I forced a smile and nodded.

Meeting Tyler tonight was the last thing I wanted to do.  In fact, I had lost all interest in Tyler the moment I received the pen with the male exotic dancer on it.  Come to think of it, I never had any real interest in Tyler.  I’d never had any real interest in anyone.  Until Logan.

As I sat in the driver’s seat of my car, waiting for my hands to defrost, I realized where I needed to be.  After waiting another few moments, just long enough to be sure my fingers could function, I took my phone and began a text.

I need you

My phone buzzed after a moment, and I looked at the text. 

I’m here.  I’ll make time.

Chapter Twenty-Three

With my hands tucked deeply in my coat pockets, I jogged to the front door of the pub.  Two men and a woman stood next to the door, smoking.  When I opened the door, I was slammed by an off-key version of “Me and Bobby McGee.”  Then I remembered that tonight was karaoke night, which always drew in a pretty big crowd. 

I peered past the cluster of people at the bar and spotted my mother’s wavy blond ponytail behind the bar.  She was playing bar dice with one of the patrons.  Jeff was there too, taking drink orders and mixing cocktails.

As she laughed at something the customer said, she glanced my way.  The moment my eyes caught hers, I let go of everything I was holding in, and the tears started rolling down my cheeks again.  Why couldn’t I keep myself together?  She gave me a comforting smile, then after saying something to Jeff, she walked over to me and wrapped her thin arms around me. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered in my ear.

My only response was to bury my eyes in her shoulder as a sob pushed itself out of me.  She held me for a few minutes, rubbing my back while I cried, then pulled her face away.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” she said.  

Embarrassed by my outburst, I held my head down as I followed her through the pub and out the back door to a hallway.  She led me up the steps to the apartment that she and Jeff slept at once in a while when it wasn’t safe for them to drive home.  I could still hear the muffled karaoke music under the floor as she led me through the empty kitchen, to the living room where a single couch rested against one of the walls.  It was the only piece of furniture in the room. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked as we sat down.

“Not really.”  We both knew I was going to tell her anyway.  I took a deep breath in an attempt to stop the tears.  “Do you know my friend, Logan?”

“Is he that really cute boy with the car?  The one who brought you the chicken soup?”

She had seen him in passing on several occasions.  I nodded as more tears pushed themselves out of my eyes from her bittersweet reminder of just how incredible my friendship with him actually is. 

Not is…was.  He’s gone now.

She listened quietly as I told her everything.  Except the racing.  I told her how we met and the peaceful, yet electric feeling I had when he looked at me.  How sparks ignited in my blood when he touched me, and how I had never experienced anything like it.  I told her about his history with his family and about my own promise which I made to myself when Adam left, and I told her how a relationship with Logan would never work.  I knew she was the only one who would understand, and it was liberating to be so open with her.

She patiently watched me as I told her what had happened in the last few days, including where I spent the night last night and how it ended with him telling me he didn’t want to see me anymore.

“How could he just give up like that, Mom?  I feel tricked.  I feel like he tricked me into falling for him, and now that I did, he doesn’t want me anymore.”

“It sounds to me like he’s confused.  It sounds like he’s in love.  People aren’t always rational when they are in love, sweetheart.”

“You think?” I said sarcastically.  Why was she taking his side?  She was supposed to be on my side.

She shrugged.  “Think about how long you resisted him.  Maybe to him, now that you are an actual, tangible thing, he’s a little freaked out.  It sounds like he’s feeling the same way you’ve felt all along.”

“But he told me he didn’t want me.  Everything that I thought would happen, happened.”  I hesitated before saying the next thing.  I wasn’t sure how she would react.  “I don’t understand why you keep doing it.” 

“What?”

“Why do you keep letting people in, when you know how it will end.  How do you do it, knowing how you will feel when they leave?”

She thought quietly for several moments.  “Because there’s always hope that maybe they won’t. And if you can let go of worrying about what might happen, I promise you something wonderful will happen, and nothing can ever compare to the feeling you get when it does.  Being in love is worth the risk.”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore.  It’s too late now.  He’s gone.”

She shook her head and smiled.  “Stop thinking so much and do what your heart tells you.”  I rolled my eyes.  She sounded just like Mel.  Her hand patted my knee.  “Just sleep on it.  Things are always much more clear in the morning.  But first, we’re gonna have a little fun.  I hate seeing you sad.” 

I forced a grin as she took my hand and started to lead me back downstairs.  I knew exactly what her intention was, and I was instantly reminded of the daily princess dance parties we had in our living room for several weeks after my dad left.  She was a master of distraction.  And I loved her for it.

“Mom, I’m not doing karaoke.” 

She pulled me down the stairs and stopped to talk to the DJ for a moment just before pulling me to the bar.  I sat on a stool as she took her place behind the bar. 

“Everything okay?” Jeff asked.

I shrugged.  “Eh.”

My mother looked at me with sympathy.  “If you want to sleep here tonight, Livie, you can have a drink or two.  But no shots.  And no driving.”

I smiled.  “Okay, Mom, I’m down.”

“You’re down?  Geez, Olivia, I think you’re way too cool for me,” she teased.  “What’ll it be?”

“Hey, Gracie, is that your sister?” some guy shouted from a few seats down.  “She looks just like you!”  I wasn’t sure if he was looking at me, or through me, or at his own nose.

My mother grinned from ear to ear as I scowled at him.  She turned to me, still smiling.  “He thinks we’re sisters.”

“He’s a little inebriated, Mom.”  I turned to face him.  “She’s my mother!” 

With a confused expression, he looked away, appearing to be deep in thought trying to figure that one out. 

“I’ll have Southern Comfort on the rocks,” I said.

“How about a So Co and sprite.”  It wasn’t a question.  She decided it for me.  I watched as she expertly poured the drink and set it on the bar in front of me.

The DJ spoke into the microphone.  “Next up is the Evans girls!”

“That’s us, Sweetie!” 

“I told you I’m not doing it!” I shouted as she ran around the bar to get me.  My heart began to pound, and my stomach turned.  I didn’t want to get up in front of these people and sing.  She took my hand and tugged, but I remained on my chair, standing my ground. 

“Oh, come on!  It’s our favorite song!” she tried to persuade me. 

I sighed and took my drink.  If I was going to do this, I needed a little extra courage.  My mother frowned at me as I pushed the tiny straw aside, put my lips on the glass, and gulped down the entire thing.  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and smiled when I was done.  “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Not funny, Olivia.  Not.  Funny.”

I inwardly chuckled as we walked up to the stage.  My mother stepped in front of the microphone.  “Is everyone having a good time tonight?!”  Hoots, hollers, and whistles came from the crowd.  “Thank you all for being here.”  She turned to face me but kept her mouth by the microphone.  “This is my daughter, Olivia.  It’s her first time on stage, so let’s give her a warm welcome!”

I waved, shyly, as more claps, shouts, and whistles filled the air.  I relaxed when the intro to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” started.  The sound took me away from the stage and back to our old living room.  It was our staple song in those days. 

My mom danced over to me, handed me a microphone, and took my hand to twirl me around.  I immediately accepted the fact that the crowd was going to see an Evans’ girls dance party, and I allowed my body move to the music.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I thought I was awake, but I couldn’t move my arms or legs.  My eyes stayed shut, but there was a brightness in front of them.  I turned over to bury my face in…some uncomfortable fabric which could not possibly be my bed sheets.  When I finally forced them open, I was blinded by light that shot a rush of pain through my head.  They stayed open only long enough to alert me to the fact that I was on the couch in the pub’s upstairs apartment. 

Was that snoring?  I squinted as I took a look around.  On the floor next to me rested a glass of water, a bottle of Tylenol, and a cocktail napkin with some scribbles on it.  After rubbing my eyes and my temples, I slowly forced myself to a sitting position.  My head resisted the action of being upright with a vengeance, and I dropped my head into my hands. 

After several motionless minutes, I reached for the glass of water and Tylenol.  I washed the pills down with the entire glass, then I went to the kitchen to refill the glass and drank that up too.