Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) (9 page)

Logan nearly jumped out of his chair.
“Dad, you told me you wouldn’t-…,”

Robert held his palm up. “Hold on. Let’s hear what Roamie has to say.”

I sighed, keeping my eyes down. “I don’t generally accept marriage proposals from my boyfriend’s parents.”

Robert smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. His clear, brown eyes twinkled
when I met them. “At least he’s your boyfriend again. We’re moving in the right direction.”

Realizing my slip, I looked at Logan, exasperated. He grinned, shoving a fork full of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

“Mr. Rush,” I turned to Carol. “Mrs. Rush, I’ve known you both all of my life. I love you both. You’re very generous. You have to know that no matter what happens… I have to think about what’s best for the baby.”

“A fabulous wedding sounds like a great start,” Carol smiled, reaching for my hand. I let her squeeze my fingers. “And we love you too, sweetie.”

“I don’t-…,”

“We could be here for you, to help with the baby, hire a nanny…,” she continued, reaching for her wine glass. “And you could go to
college. It’s not too late.”

Selfish did not
begin to describe my next thought process. I imagined dancing with Logan at our wedding reception, with Mr. and Mrs. Rush dancing beside us, smiling proudly. Flashing to our first house (ten percent down) with a white, picket fence, a grand kitchen (containing several tomato knives) and a nursery, I saw our baby cradled lovingly in Logan’s arms.

I suddenly pictured West’s face, and jerked back to reality, mortified.

“I’m sorry, please excuse me,” I slid the chair back, barely making it to the downstairs bathroom before gasping. The tears rolled down my cheeks, and I dabbed at them with toilet paper, fighting for control.

“Cam.” Logan knocked softly. “I’m so sorry. My parents were out of line. Can I come in?”

“Wait,” I sniffed, trying to contain the mascara trails on my cheeks. When I opened the door, he moved into the small space, closing the door behind him.

“I know that was too much, I’m sorry. I’ve heard it all for months, so I guess I’m used to it.”

“For months, Logan.
Months
. It’s been two days since we started speaking again.”

“We’re best friends. Time doesn’t matter.”

“Circumstances do. I was alone,
so
alone, and it’s been the hardest… time since my mom…,” my voice broke.

“W
e’ll find him.” He cupped my face in his hands, locking eyes with me. I took a deep breath.

“I don’t know if you want to find him, Logan.”

He took a step toward me, and I flattened against the wall between the toilet and the shower.

“I don’t know if I do, either.”
The hum of the exhaust fan masked my erratic breathing. His mouth lingered near mine, his hands diving into my hair from the back of my neck. “Will you kiss me?”

I shook my head, trying to move back, but he followed. “No.”

“Please,” his fingertips traced the line of my jaw, and involuntarily I leaned against his touch, closing my eyes.

“
No
,” I repeated, my airy words betraying my body’s natural reaction to Logan’s hands. His fingers ran down my arms, stopping at my wrists.

“You want to.”

Trying to swallow, my throat resisted. “
Stop it, Rush,
” I pleaded.

He tugged me to him suddenly, forcing his lips on mine. I cried into his mouth, bracing my hands on his chest. Crushed between him and the bathroom wall, I had nowhere to move but into him.
I want to move into him.
The realization was devastating; I fought the way my body remembered being touched, and kissed, and adored.

“I can’t do this to West…,
” I begged against his mouth.

“
You did this to me
,” he rowed.

A knock startled us both. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Carol, through the door.

“Yes,” my voice cracked. I slipped out of Logan’s grasp, reaching for the door. He stopped me, grabbing my hand. “Logan…,”

“Tell me you love me, too,” his voice strained; every part of his eyes told me that he needed me to respond.

“I…,” my breath caught; a series of tiny, pulling sensations erupted in my abdomen. Gripping my dress, I covered my stomach and looked down.

“What’s wrong?” Logan reached for me. “Are you sick?”

“No, I…,” I lifted my eyes to his. “I think… it’s moving…,”

His hands slid over mine as he widened his eyes excitedly. “Really? Can I feel it?”

“I don’t think so… it feels so deep inside, and she’s really so small yet,” I murmured, holding my breath and waiting for the next tugging flutter.
Nothing
.

“She?”

I shrugged, sighing. “Or he.”

We were silent for long moments, his fingers still covering mine. West was so far away, in another place and time, and I had no idea if I’d ever find him… or if Troy would find me first if I tried.
I need him here… I need him.

“
I can tell when you’re thinking about him.” Logan reached past me for the door handle, his gaze still locked in mine. “You forget to breathe.”

He opened the door suddenly, moving past me and into the kitchen. I exhaled, realizing that he was right.

That evening, we went to my house bearing leftovers for my dad. Morgan was sound asleep after shopping all evening to get a jump on the Friday deals. Logan’s mood had turned chilly after our talk in the bathroom. When he parked himself next to my dad on the couch and slipped into a turkey/ football coma, I decided a nap was the most appealing idea I could think of. Sometime around nine, Logan’s phone ringing from downstairs woke me. After a few minutes, I heard him come in my room and kneel by my bed.

I opened my eyes, a sense of urgency taking over.
“Bank, safety deposit box, pack and go,” I listed for the next morning. He shrugged.

“Okay. I’m going to head home.”

“You’re not staying?” I asked, fully expecting him to spend the night.

He rubbed his neck tiredly. “No. I have a feeling that you’ll… be just fine.”

His words were chilled, a sudden change in the caring way he’d been to me over the past few days. As he began to move away from the bed, I held him, pulling him closer. Before I could think of the consequences, I pressed my lips to his.

“I do love you, you know. I always will.” I ruffled his dark curls. “Please just remember that when you
dream tonight.”

He
looked unconvinced. “I’ll try. Get some rest… don’t stay up all night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watched him leave, quickly growing irritated. A headache festered in between my eyes, and no amount of pressure from my fingertips made it go away. I longed for the days I could pop two Advil and call it a night.

Packing for 1955 proved to be much more difficult than packing for 1977. Nothing in my closet was acceptable, and I ended up with mostly jeans. West had been right; jeans were easy and they worked for years.

Sometime around eight, Morgan knocked. When I opened the door, she looked massively annoyed.
“I’m dropping dad off at some party at the bar, and going out with Jason.”

I looked down, sighing. “At least he’s not driving.”

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” She shook her head disgustedly. “Anyway, his keys are downstairs if you need to go anywhere. Are you okay with me going out?”

“Sure,” I reached for her, and she gratefully accepted my hug. “Are you okay? You sound really down. Other than with dad, I mean.”

She shrugged. “I’m fine. Jason is so amazing. I really see us going somewhere.” She squeezed me once again before heading for the stairs. “Get some sleep. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I watched them both leave from my bedroom window, continuing to pack. Fishing my iPod out from under my pillow, I plugged it into the speaker dock by my bed and switched back to the nineties playlist.
No love songs tonight.

Halfway through a Boyz II Men’s
I’ll Make Love to You,
I shut the device off and shoved it into my packed bag. My iPhone would have to stay; no use bringing it to 1955. I picked my phone up off my desk, noticing Morgan had texted me, and slid the message open.

As I read, my lungs refused to work.

Sorry I’m so pissy. Reed called me and actually wanted to get together. Of course, now that J and I are getting closer. Effing men! Anyway he said he would come over tonight- told him not to bother. So if he does just don’t answer the door. Love ya.

Troy…
I dropped my phone, gripping the back of my desk chair.
Breathe, breathe…
I couldn’t.

He found a way.

Troy found a way to return, but West didn’t.

Trying to fight the cloud seeping over my mind, I gave into blackness.
When I woke, I was sprawled ungainly on the floor, propped against my bed. I carefully prodded my scalp, deciding that I hadn’t smacked it on the nightstand. As Morgan’s text flashed through my mind, I cried out, rushing to my feet before my blood had time to reach my brain.
Troy is here, he’s coming here…

My fingers were clay as I fumbled for my phone, trying to call Logan. Finally, I held down the voice prompt, nearly screaming
Call Logan!
My phone obliged, and I hit speaker as the ringing began.
Two… three… voicemail?

Growling out loud, I
grabbed my bag and West’s, running from my bedroom. Two steps down I slid on the carpet, falling hard on the third step. My eyes darted frantically to the dark windows, two by the front door and one near the living room. I panted, my rear-end bruised from the fall.
Is he here?

My jacket became a foreign object, my fingers refusing to operate the zipper.
Finally pulling the tab up, I left the bags by the door and ran for my father’s car keys. When they weren’t on the microwave, I checked the hook below the house phone next.

A sliding sound upstairs, directly above my head, brought vomit to my mouth.

“
Hello
,” I choked, and then silently cursed myself for being stupid.
Yes, announce that you’re here, so let the attack begin!
I stepped lightly to the garage door and slipped into the garage, breathing evenly.
Don’t react, act.
The words of my kickboxing instructor surfaced as I continued to count, calming my nerves.
Run. Don’t be a victim.

Pressing the button to open the garage door, I widened my eyes as the motor refused to begin the lift.
Broken
. I’d forgotten the motor died over a month ago.  Hurrying to the man door, I fumbled with the deadbolt before it finally released. My boots were still by the front door, but at least I had my coat. My thigh-high stockings were warm, but my feet were instantly soaked and freezing as I ran through the snow, toward the road. The moonlight reflected off the drifts, lighting the night around me.

The breathing and heavy footsteps closed in
from behind.
Keep running and get caught from behind, or fight?
I was confident that I could defend myself- a little- but wished for something, anything, to serve as a weapon. The keys, still in my hand, were my only option. I grasped them, stopping suddenly and turning around. As I did, my foot slid on the wet snow and I went backwards, landing hard on my hip and elbow.

He was on me in seconds. I screamed as he caught my hand in mid air, the gouging keys ready to plunge into his neck.

As I finally focused, my heart stopped beating.

West gazed down at me, releasing my arm and slipping his hands behind my head, through the snow.

“Is it you?” My voice wavered, tears thick in my throat.

“
Roam,
” his dark blue eyes caught the silver flecks of the moon. He lowered his lips to mine, and I blinked away at the scalding tears mixed with falling snow. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured.

I cried, unable to believe he was holding me in his arms. “How are you here?” I gasped, the warm heat of his body, the taste of his mouth, his voice sending me into a frantic calm. “
How?
”

“I figured it out… the numbers, the fountains.
Cleveland
.” He lifted me into his arms. I gripped his neck with all of my strength, pressing my face to his chest.

“Don’t let me go,” I whispered brokenly, my torrent of tears breaking against his warm skin.

“
Never again,
” he promised, carrying me back to the house.

Once inside, in the sobering kitchen light, he gently lowered me to a chair. I watched him intently as he knelt and unrolled the wet stockings from my feet. Sitting motionless, I stared at him, unable to admit to myself that he was real. His dark blonde hair, longer than I’d ever seen it, curled at his neck. His strikingly handsome face was covered in a full beard, slightly darker than his hair, somehow making him appear even more attractive. He lifted his eyes to mine, dropping my stockings to the floor and reaching for my jacket zipper.