“Nope, but I probably should.” He nods to the construction zone. “The surprise is actually this way.” He points to the left of the truck.
A white sign is staked out front of the skeletal framework of a house, reading
Townsend Construction
. The house, itself, is enormous in both girth and width, and I can only assume it’s another Kragger expansion project.
“This is your favorite place,” I whisper. This is exactly where Logan wanted to build a house for himself one day—for us. “
Hey!
” I tilt into him.
“This is for you, Skyla.” He twists a crooked smile. “I’ve wanted that lot for as long as I could remember, and a few months back when I saw the for sale sign I couldn’t resist. It doesn’t matter who you choose. I want you to have it.”
My heart sinks. “Logan.” His face bleaches out, grey as the day outside, but it can’t kill the joy in his eyes, the gentle twitch of his dimple. “I love it. And I love you and your big heart. But this house isn’t for me, it’s for
us
.” I want to call him out on it. My heart is pulsating in my chest so hard I can hear the echo in my ears. “Logan, do you remember those visions? That little child we held hands with along the beach? That was this beach, wasn’t it?”
“It was.” His gaze intensifies as he buries a smile in his cheek. “Skyla, your mother said we’d be separated for a while—”
My phone goes off and startles the crap out of me because the volume is turned all the way up.
“It’s my mom.” I’m sure she’d hang up right this minute if she knew Logan was trying to gift me a brand new home that could make an appetizer of the Landon house. Mom and her piss-poor timing.
“We’ll come back.” He taps me on the knee. “I’ll give you the tour when it’s not so muddy.” He starts up the Mustang and drives us in the direction of the Landon’s soon-to-be financial failure.
I text Mom and let her know I’m on my way before she can finish the reprimand on my voicemail.
“What were you going to say?” I ask as an explosion of lightning shakes out its wicked tendrils across the span of the entire sky. It’s luminescent and brilliant as if God, himself, were trying to get our attention—or my mother in the least.
“I was going to say, we happen.” He glances over at me with a fresh look of desperation in his eyes. “Please believe me, Skyla. We will happen.”
I like Logan’s assurance—his faith in us.
Funny how Gage practically said the same thing about himself Friday night.
I know one thing for sure. We can’t all happen.
And too bad for me.
Because right about now, I want them all.
***
Logan takes up my hand just as we’re about to walk up the street to Ethan’s brainchild, the
Gas Lab.
Note to the Landon marketing department—cursing future business establishments with egregious monikers just might be your calling.
“Zombie football player and zombie cheerleader?” Logan pulls me to the side of the building, under the protection of the awning, as the rain sizzles around us.
“For Halloween? That’s perfect! Plus we already technically have what we need. I love it.” I dot his cheek with a kiss and have a hard time pulling away. “You know Logan”—I sweep the street with my gaze—“I’m going to make a decision. Not only because it’s not fair to you or anyone else to leave you hanging but because I think I need to grow up, stop letting my emotions overrun logic. I need to stop and think for once. That’s what this is about. I’m stopping to think, and it feels good. It feels really good knowing that I’m not deceiving you or Gage, or even Marshall. All of these visions, these predictions, I’ll admit they confuse the hell out of me, but they also bring me a strange sense of comfort.”
Logan picks up both my hands and lets out a breath that spans the entire last year.
“I’m proud of you, Skyla. I think we all needed to grow a little, and this is stretching all of us in the right direction. Take all the time you need. Do whatever you need to do to figure things out.”
Brielle’s salacious suggestions run through my mind, and I blink them away.
Logan’s eyes widen at the prospect.
“That was Brielle’s idea, and I’m not doing that.” I’m quick to defend my questionable honor. “But I am going to do something to try and figure this all out. I’m going to talk to my mother.”
“Your mom?” He glances back at the storefront and frowns. “I always figured she was team Gage.”
“She sort of is.” I pull him in and circle my arms around his waist. “But I’m talking about my
other
mother, the one who outright said she was rooting for
you
.”
“That’s the one I was hoping for.” He pushes out an easy grin.
A wild sizzle of light, bright as a nuclear detonation, lights up the vicinity.
“Sounds like my mother heard.” I nod toward the building. “We’d better get in before she accidentally sets us on fire.”
“I’m already on fire,” he whispers into my ear, and a rush of heat explodes throughout my body. “I’m on fire for you, Skyla.” He sears his gaze into mine, and the world could detonate around us for all I care.
Logan is so achingly gorgeous it kills me not to have him.
I’m burning for him, too. But I don’t say it. I need to simmer a little longer, take my heart out of the equation for once while I analyze this from every angle—only, a small part of me is well aware you can never analyze love.
The rain lets up, so Logan and I step back to admire Ethan’s new endeavor the way any patron walking down the street might have the misfortune to do. A giant neon sign blinks a violent shade of red regurgitating the words, “The Gas Lab,” over and over.
“Swear to God it feels like a warning,” I say as Logan shakes his head at the error of Ethan’s marketing skills.
“Probably is.”
Inside the place looks packed, mostly with every available member of my family and Logan’s family, too.
I wave at Emma and Dr. Oliver through the glass.
Logan ushers me in by the small of my back. We step inside, and my senses wait for the delicious aroma of fresh-roasted coffee to hit but there’s nothing.
“Finally!” Mom makes crazy eyes at me as she jostles the baby. “Isn’t it great? Oh hi, Logan.” She squints into him as if she’s secretly trying to place him. “Gage is in the back with your parents.”
I sigh at my mother’s inability to hold Logan’s identity and relationship to the Olivers straight. Although, it is confusing, and life has filled her plate with more than a little to be frazzled about lately. I’m sure Tad’s child is suckling off her brain cells, and soon we’ll have to draw her a roadmap to the bathroom—to the
kitchen knives
in the event she wants to fall on one after she comes to her senses and realizes whose spawn she’s busy incubating.
I take a step back to soak in the scene. Large, blank canvases hang from the mustard colored walls. The ceilings are at least twenty feet high with long, hanging lights that dangle like snakes from above. A glass-covered case lures me over. I’m half-hoping to find a fully equipped gelato station, or perhaps a deli spread, but, instead, a few petri dish sized wheels of cheese sit looking rather lonely and unappetizing in their pale, mold casings. To the left of the curdled mammary proteins sits a bona fide bar, hooked up to enough oxygen tanks to blow this place sky high with one unfortunate vibration or spark. Chloe sits next to Ethan, laughing, as he runs his fingers through her shoulder-length hair. I swear she’s using her Celestra strength to make it grow faster. It’s not until I inspect the scene a little further do I spot a series of tubes running out of their nostrils.
A pair of warm arms encircle me from behind.
“Boo,” Gage whispers as he blows a gentle kiss just over my ear. My adrenaline spikes, and immediately I scan the room for Logan who seems to have drifted away without me noticing. He’s standing next to Marshall with his eyes hardened in this direction.
Shit.
Gage’s open proclamation has Logan seething.
“Hey you!” I twist out of his arms, trying to make it look perfectly natural, not at all like I’m trying to evade his touch. “What’s up with the nose tubes?” I tip my head over to the bar just as Emily and Drake insert the tiny hoses into their nostrils.
“I guess that’s how you do it.” Gage tweaks his brows. “But I think we should focus on doing other things.” He lets the innuendo hang in the air a moment, and I lose myself in those cobalt eyes. Gage has me in ways that are impossible to disconnect. We’ve woven ourselves into the fabric of one another’s lives—to think of us each with other people seems outright blasphemous.
Emma and Barron come upon us with Logan in tow.
“Interesting place you have here.” Emma rakes her eyes over the blank canvases that adorn the walls.
“I refuse to take credit. This is all my stepbrother’s doing. In fact, both of my stepbrothers have teamed up and this”—I fan my arms out—“is the result of their failed expertise. It’s safe to say they have wild imaginations.”
“Wild indeed.” Barron nods. “I gather they’ve retrieved the proper permits for the air tanks. Do be careful around them. With the proper adjusting, those little metal canisters can turn into projectile missiles.”
“Oh, I’m sure everything is up to code.” Well, isn’t this the trophy crap. I bet nothing is up to freaking code.
Mia and Melissa emerge from behind the counter carrying large, round trays with crackers and samples of boob cheese diced on top.
“This stuff is gross.” Mia thrusts the platter in our direction.
Each one of us politely refuses in turn.
Holden walks up behind her and lays his arm over her shoulder, his hand gliding a little too close to her boob cheese for my comfort.
“How’s my favorite little lady?” he asks.
Mia swoons at his well-chiseled features. Sure, Pierce was—is—good looking, but Holden is just being an ass to piss me off.
“Great,” Mia sings. “I memorized that poem you gave me. The meeting is in seven days, right?”
“Six,” he corrects before frowning over at Gage and me. “Keep it down, would you?” He scolds just under his breath.
Holden leans in my direction and whispers, “I just had an interesting meeting with your mother. Justice Alliance, Skyla? Really?” He needles me with his stone-cold gaze.
“Yes.” I step back into Gage. “Your goose is cooked,” I whisper it low, so Mia can’t make out my veiled threat. Holden stalks off, good and pissed, before bellying up to the bar with his partner in spiritual crime, Chloe. I have a feeling Holden Kragger is just enough of an ass to light those oxygen tanks into orbit just for the hell of it, taking us all along for the ride.
“What’s in six days?” I whisper to Mia just as she’s about to take the cheese tray elsewhere.
“Halloween.” She lowers her head and glowers at me as if she’s trying to hide something.
I lay my hand over hers pretending to help steady the behemoth wood palate she’s lugging around.
Why the hell is Skyla always so nosy?
She makes a face.
Pierce is right. Celestra think they’re better than everyone else. I can’t wait until my initiation next week. That Treasure meeting was amazing. I bet if I told my stupid sister she’d go and ruin everything.
“Halloween?” I give a little laugh. “I’m so stupid. Of course, it is.” I have no problem debasing myself for the cause, especially now that I know she’s planning an
initiation
. “Just be careful around Pierce, OK? I don’t think he’s good company.”
“Ew, he’s Chloe’s boyfriend not mine. He’s my leader remember?” she hisses. “And don’t try to change my mind about this. I’m proud of who I am and who I’m about to become. Why can’t you just support me for once?”
It’s not like I’m going to tell her I plan on having a serious make out session with Nate Coleman right after I gift my soul to the dark side, or at least to Skyla it’s the dark side. I’m an angel, damn it. And what I want out of life I’m going to make sure I get
.
I watch, stunned, as she walks away offering her spread of molded cheeses to Demetri and Brielle’s mother.
“They’ve already brainwashed her,” I lament to Logan and Gage, but they’re not paying attention, they’re locked in a heated stare, and I can’t break their gaze. “Did I miss something?”
“You didn’t miss anything,” Logan seethes into his nephew. “I’ll catch you guys later.” He looks to the floor before offering me a forlorn smile. “Would you mind if I picked you up for school tomorrow?”
“No, not at all.” Truthfully I miss the days we drove around together carefree, unafraid that the Counts were going to off us just to keep us from procreating.
“Great.” Logan leans in and presses a kiss over my cheek. “I’ll see you later. I’ve got some business to take care of.” And, with that, he’s out the door.
I shake my head as I watch him dissolve into the rain.
“Logan showed me the house he’s building.” I glance up at Gage as he takes a deep breath.
“So what’d you think?” His dimples press in, his lips pull tight.
“I was flattered.” Blown away as hell but I’m too afraid to share that with Gage. I’d hate for him to think he has no hope just because he can’t swing a major real estate deal. “I still think he’s hiding something bigger.”
“You and me both. It’s like he’s got some trick up his sleeve, and, believe me, I’ve tried to get it out of him.” Gage pulls me in by the waist. In the distance I can see Marshall give a disapproving smirk. Miller is here plying him with who-knows-what ego enhancer. She’s desperate to have him back, and I don’t like it one bit.
“Gage, why does Logan think it’s OK to publically show interest in me all of a sudden? I mean wasn’t the entire purpose of having you pretend to be my boyfriend a means to keep us out of danger? Why would the Counts back down just because we won the war? That is
if
we won. Wouldn’t Logan and I still be a threat if we were able to produce pure Celestra children?”
Gage gives a long blink. I’m sure the thought of Logan and I procreating isn’t something he wants to think about.
“You would both be in real danger and quite possibly more so for your children,” he says it low, almost regretful, as if he had already considered this, and it was the only outcome he could come up with.