Elysian (42 page)

“Come in.”

The door swings open revealing a drop-dead gorgeous, no pun intended, Logan Oliver, clad in a black suit and shiny white tie. My stomach bottoms out at the sight of him.

“
Please
come in.” I speed over to him and lock my door behind him. “God, are you ever freaking gorgeous!”

“And you’re amazingly beautiful.” He holds me out by the hands and drinks me in with those golden chalice eyes. “Damn, Skyla, you do not fight fair.”

“Who says I’m fighting you?” I hike up on my tiptoes and land a careful kiss right over his lips. There. I did it. Every part of me exhales from that one simple kiss.

“Skyla.” My name bleeds from his lips like an eleventh hour plea.

“I love you, Logan Oliver.” It feels safe like this in my bedroom, declaring my love for Logan all over again.

“I love you, too.” Logan crashes his lips over mine, and we greedily indulge in one hell of a lingual exchange as his tongue glides over mine. It feels fervent, rushed, and yet achingly regulated as if we were holding back from the things we wished we could do with our bodies.

Screw homecoming
, I say.
Let’s lock ourselves in the butterfly room and do this all night—more than this.

A gentle laugh rumbles through his chest.
I knew telling you I was dead would only make you love me more
, he teases
. But I won’t let you miss your final homecoming dance. And anything more than this, you should probably do with Gage. But selfishly I’ll accept every kiss you’re willing to give me.

“Logan!” I pull back, shocked he’d say something like that. “Stop. I want this. I want us.”

“I know.” He glances down, remorseful we even went there. “Believe me, I want us, too.” He locks his fiery gaze over mine. “Gage is going to love you one day, Skyla, in the exact way that I wish I could,” he presses the words out with a patina of grief.

My eyes seal themselves shut. I shake my head, too afraid if I try to say anything the dam will break, and I’ll lose the false eyelashes I spent a half hour applying.

Logan tightens his grip around my waist and settles his lips over my neck. He’s tasting me, savoring it for later.

I love being privy to his thoughts, especially when his private musings involve the way I taste.

“Hey, good news.” I pull back and give a little bounce.

“You found a way to get that pendant?”

“Boy, you’ve got a one track mind, and no. But I get to see my mother on my birthday. I’m going to have a nice long chat with my dear old Mom. And believe you me, I’ll be wheeling and dealing for the life of my most favorite Celestra.” I rattle his hand.

“Count. I’m still pledged over to them.”

“
Unpledge
.” I yank him in again, and his warm cologne swallows me whole. “Come back to the light,” I tease.

“As far as I know, it’s not possible.”

“I’m so tired of dealing in impossibilities.” I pick up his hand and flex his fingers until Logan locks over me strong and sturdy.

A loud bang rattles my door followed by Mom poking her head inside.

“Why don’t you two come down for pictures?” She glosses over Logan and me with his arm around my waist, our hands in the air like we’re dancing, and frowns. “Be down in five.” 

“She wishes I were Gage,” Logan whispers as we head downstairs.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure Emma wishes I were anybody else.”

He lets out a laugh as we walk into the family room.

Chloe has the balls to smile while cozying up to Ethan in her less-than-stunning little blue dress.

Drake, Emily, and Brielle form a rather odd circle on the other side of them.

“You’re back!” I give Bree a hug. “Everything go OK?” I whisper.

“Better than OK. Drake gave me some tongue while we were shooting the yearbook pictorial.”

Disgusting.

“Get a move on!” Tad crows at Logan and me while holding up his grocery store throwaway camera.

Mia and Melissa come in, so I hand Mia my phone. At least I’ll have a real picture unlike Tad who’s too cheap to develop his. 

Logan and I squeeze in the middle, and both Mia and Tad snap away.

“Oh, this reminds me,” I say to Logan while Em and Brielle prattle on about a baby’s feeding schedule, like either of them knows a thing about it. “You should totally go to the Gas Lab one day and teach Ethan a thing or two about business. He’s giving away free air and instant coffee.” Wow, it sounds utterly ridiculous coming from my mouth.

Logan swallows down a laugh. “Air and instant coffee should never have a price tag.”

“But we’ll never make any money,” I protest. “And we’ll have to shut the doors.”

“Dude.” Logan shakes his head at Ethan. “You need real coffee—and some decent food to go with it.”

“We’ve got cheese,” Ethan growls as if they’re about to throw punches.

“Not cheese.” Logan shoots a sideways glance at my mother because he so knows that breasty offering was totally her idea. “Maybe cheese
Danishes
, but the regular kind. Get donuts, and maybe, eventually you can make them. There’s not a single donut shop on the island. You’d have the market cornered.”

The room lights up with an approving gasp at Logan’s carbohydrate-laden genius.

“This one’s a keeper, Skyla.” Tad marvels into Logan as if he were glazed and filled with molten gold, and he sort of is. “I vote we permanently kick the linebacker to the curb. We need a man with good business sense in the family. And free tickets to that bowling alley of his wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

I wrap an arm around Logan’s waist. Strangely it warms me to have Tad’s approval, although, in reality, it should be setting off all sorts of frantic bells and whistles.

“Too bad he won’t be staying,” Chloe coos while sticking her bottom lip out. “But I’m sure Skyla will find someone else to fill his shoes—perhaps someone older and more scholastically inclined.”

The pendant glows off her smooth brown skin, her pale blue dress looks eerily reminiscent of the one she wore the night I hoisted her off the planet.

Good God—is that the same dress?

“Where are you going, Logan?” Mom asks, casually unbuttoning her blouse and unhitching a small cotton patch on her bra until her bare pink nipple is exposed.

Logan glances away.

“I’m sure Chloe is talking about college,” he says. “But I plan on staying as close to Skyla as possible.”

“I’m sure Gage will take very good care of her.” Chloe continues to chide him. Odd how she killed him, claimed to feel bad, and now she’s rubbing salt in his wound. “Don’t you think so?” She steps into him as her chest quivers with a silent laugh. “Gage always did have a special thing for Skyla. I guess they’re just meant to be.”

Logan shoots hate-filled lasers at that sniveling smirk of hers. I swear it looks like he’s ready to spit in her face.

Brielle hops over with her shiny gold dress, her sparkling rainbow heels.

“You guys ready to go?” Bree squeals. “Last homecoming ever, can you believe it?”

Chloe purses her lips and glares right at Logan. “A lot of things are coming to an end, Brielle.”

The room drains as everyone heads for the door, and I pull Chloe back by the elbow.

“Listen, bitch”—it hisses from me—“I didn’t appreciate the fact you loaded my car with body parts. And I sure as hell don’t appreciate you talking to Logan that way, especially since you put him in this predicament to begin with.”

She fingers the protective hedge, and her gaze drifts past my shoulder into some faraway place. “He says he regrets ever giving this to me.” It comes out mechanical, disbelieving. “He was so close to wanting me, loving me.” She snaps out of her daze and glares into me “It was you, Skyla. It’s always you disrupting things for me on some level. I thought for sure if you didn’t come to Paragon—”

“You tried to stop me from coming to Paragon?” Of course, she did. Why else would she kill my father? “Why didn’t you kill me, Chloe? Why build a body count when you could have gone straight to the source?”

Chloe huffs a laugh and knocks hard into my shoulder on her way out the door.

Chloe wanted to stop me from coming to Paragon.

We head outside, and I catch a glimpse of Emily climbing into Drake’s car while Brielle waves to me from the backseat.

Crap.

Strange how Em sort of resembles Drake’s mom, though. I mean, not in a sick way, just the pale coloring, the dark wiry hair.

Hey… Stella died in a car crash the same day my father died—same exact way.

I glance over at Chloe as she files into Ethan’s sedan and wonder if in any way she’s responsible for that tragic “accident” as well.

Logan wraps his arms around me and warms my bare skin.

“Let’s get out of here and have some fun.” He seals it with a kiss right over my cheek.

“We’re going to have a blast tonight. I promise.”

I have a feeling Kate’s ghost will attest to that.

***

The Paragon Beach Resort sparkles like cut crystal amidst the backdrop of the blackened ocean.

Logan escorts me inside the palatial resort with his elbow linked through mine. It’s bright inside with its opulent carved marble décor. A pair of stone lions sit on either side of the entry, locked in their silent roars.

A sea of freshly polished bodies mixes in the foyer, with most people drifting toward the Grand Ballroom to the left. Logan mentioned on the way over that Chloe didn’t upset him, but I can tell he was rattled after those comments about Gage. Speaking of the handsome devil, I spot him by the open mouth of the grand room talking to Ellis. Two girls slink by their sides, and, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume those were their dates. Gage looks smooth in his inky dark suit, his hair slicked back, and a trace of a goatee which I haven’t seen on him before. One of the girls looks up dreamily at him, laughing at whatever he’s telling Ellis, and my stomach bites with jealousy.

“You hungry?” Logan pulls me in with a knowing look. A slightly amused smile rides on his lips.

The scent of food mixed with perfume bombards our senses. I can see the buffet inside from where we’re standing, but thanks to Ellis and his bevy of hussies, I’ve lost my appetite.

“Nope. You?”

“I think I’ll skip right to dessert.” Logan nips my ear with his lips. “How about we hit the dance floor?”

“Logan Oliver dances?” My mouth drops open. Logan is allergic to strutting his stuff unless the music drops to hip swaying octaves.

“Yeah, well, you only get so many extensions on life.” He pulls me along until we bypass Gage and Ellis. I give a brief wave, and Gage’s dimples wink at me.

The overgrown ballroom is lit up with the same charming twinkle lights it had last year. It’s dim inside, and you can feel the heat of hundreds of bodies swirling on the dance floor. I spot Carly Foster and Carson Armistead from East. That’s one thing I won’t miss next year, mixing with the barbarians from East High. Although I guess if we all end up at Host, we’ll simply be stuck together for another four-year sentence.

Logan pulls me deep into the crowd until we land in the middle of the jostling bodies. He sways into me, showing off his cool-as-hell dance moves, and I melt just watching him.

Good God. Who knew the quarterback was capable of gliding his body over mine in such a sexy manner? Every girl in the vicinity has her eyes peeled on Logan and his slick contortions. My body explodes like a flare just watching. A heated vision comes to mind, Logan lying over me, trying out these same red-hot moves in a horizontal position. Song after song beats by, and Logan gets a little more brazen with each passing minute. Logan presses in with his hips grinding against my body. I can feel him, feel his hard bulge touching over my thigh, and a fire rakes over me. Logan swipes his fingers slow over my palm as he draws me into him, and I let out a groan as he strokes over my skin. A searing heat rips across my abdomen. Logan is lighting a blaze of passion. He’s waking up parts of me I never knew existed. His high cheekbones pick up the light, those molten eyes glow over my skin. Logan has a way of making me feel needed, desired in a ravenous, animalistic way.

The rhythm slows, and the lights dim even further.

Logan pulls me in tight and crushes his lips over mine for a moment, panting from the exertion we both put forth.

“You are a machine,” I say, touching my searing skin to his.

“God”—he breathes into my ear—“I hope I get the chance to love you like this every day, Skyla.” His heavy breathing sends a heated rush of pleasure up and down my spine.

Logan and his earthshattering lust make me feel lightheaded, dizzy in a mysterious sexual way that I’ve never experienced before.

He rides his hands over my back, tracing out my curves while looking me dead in the eye.

Logan is testing me. He wants to see how far he can push it—see if he can score on homecoming even though he’ll deny it to his grave quite literally, but a part of me is dying to let him.

A dry laugh trembles through his chest as he takes me in.

“What?” I ask, pushing my hips into his and taking in a breath when I feel him tick to life beneath me.

“I’m going to explode if I can’t kiss you.” His linear dimple folds in on itself.

“Kiss me. I double dog dare you to.”

He shakes his head. “The way Gage is watching me, you’d think I was a criminal.”

“Criminal sounds fitting.” Marshall comes in and tucks his shoulder into Logan’s until he’s effectively taken his place. “Be gone—hose yourself down for goodness sake. The entire exchange was embarrassing to witness.” He lowers his gaze over mine and holds me out a polite distance as we sway to the music. “This is how you dance with a lady.”

“Are you OK with this?” Logan tries to cut in, but Marshall has completely blocked him out.

“One song,” I say it curt without losing the steely-eyed look I’m shooting Marshall.

Logan takes off, presumably to cool himself. That boy had us both drowning in some serious heat. I bet if you look up dirty dancing in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of Logan thrusting those hips into mine. And, hot damn, that boy can thrust with the best of them.