Finding Me (The Bad Boy Series) (18 page)

Pulling out some denim shorts, I inspected them carefully. No, too much. After twenty minutes, I finally decided on a pair of faded dark blue jeans and a ripped, black Jack Daniels top. The rips in the top are set above the bust, going from right to left. By the time I dried my hair, the ends had already started to dry. I quickly ran the hairdryer over my hair and threw it up into a messy bun; I didn't really have time to flat iron it anyway.

I decided on light makeup. A small amount of mascara, a little blush on my cheeks and a swipe of gloss on my lips. Once I finished, I put on my Chucks. There wasn't need for anything fancy on my feet, they would only get full of beer. I was ready with an hour to spare. The bar was only a thirty minute walk, if I walk quickly.

Suddenly, a pounding on the door broke through my thoughts. I rolled my eyes. It's probably Low, no doubt she has forgotten her keys, again. The pounding starts again. Jesus.

"Okay, okay. Christ, Low." I laughed before opening the door. "The hell -"

My body froze. I was completely immobile. Standing on the other side of my door was ... Logan. His chest was heaving as he sucked in air hard and fast. His hair wet, and sticking to the side of his face. My heart pounded as we stared at each other. He was leaning against the door frame with his right arm bent at the elbow, his eyes never leaving mine.

I couldn't breathe. Suddenly, my ripped Jack Daniels shirt is too tight, as if it's restricting the air flowing through my lungs. But I knew it wasn't my shirt causing it. It's my heart skipping a beat as it recognized the other aching heart in front of it. My heart recognized his scent, and every time I inhaled, it beat faster.

Even if I could get my brain to function at a normal social level right now, I knew I still wouldn't be able to produce anything from my mouth other than garbled noise. I wouldn't even know what to say. I wanted to lash out at him, scream until my face turned purple and my eyes bulged out of my own head. But at the same time, I wanted to grab onto him, hold him close and never let him go.

Then he straightened, seemingly catching his breath. I lost all sense of, well, everything. He took a step forward into the room, and at the same time I took one back. It's not a conscious decision, my mind was in the fight or flight, my head and my heart were going into battle over choosing if I wanted to stay or run.

He took another step, now standing completely in the room. I took another step back. His right eyebrow cocked as he noticed that I was backing away. I waited for his next move. We still haven't spoken, and the air in the room feels as though it's decreasing. I waited, balling my hands into fists by my side, watching and waiting. He suddenly kicked the door shut behind him, the slam of the door made me jump slightly.

He stared me down before taking another step. I mirrored him, stepping back again. He shoved his hands in his pockets, it's as if he didn't know what to do with them. His eyes scanned me from top to toe, drinking me in before taking another step. I instinctively stepped back, but when I do, my lower back collided with the bedside cabinet that separated my bed from Low's.

My breathing caught, and I knew that if he took just one more step, he would be so close to my body he could become a second skin. His breathing had turned back into the hard pants like before, hard and sure as he took in each breath. I closed my eyes, counting back slowly.

5 …

4 …

3 …

2 …

1 …

Nothing, I didn't feel anything. My eyes flickered open and land on his as I waited again, wondering what his next move was going to be. I started to open my mouth, but just as I did, he took the last step between us.

Warmth, my body was engulfed in warmth as Logan pressed against the front of my body. I had no idea what to do. Do I duck and run out of the room? Or do I stay and find out exactly why he's here? But I don't get time to decide. Suddenly, his hands were no longer inside the pockets of his jeans, they were inching toward my face. Even if I wanted to move now, I don't think I could.

He slowly slid his left hand behind the back of my head, gripped my hair tie and pulled it out gently. My hair landed down my back in messy waves. His hand moved and suddenly was in my hair, tangled between my locks. I get pulled forward, the tiniest of movement. But it's enough for my cheek to rest against his chest.

His arms engulfed my body, and I suddenly held on for dear life.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as he places a gentle kiss against my hair.

I closed my eyes. For the tiniest moment, I basked in his warmth. My hands balled into fists around his back, clinging onto his shirt as I breathed him in. He was running his finger around the small of my back in those delicious circle motions, and I almost forgot what I'm doing. Almost.

I sharply pulled back, out of his embrace. I couldn't step out of his way, he has me all but pinned to the bedside cabinet behind me. I felt my heart quickening as I looked into his brown and green eyes, as a sudden rage engulfed me.

"You … you. You!" I was stuttering and mumbling over all the place. I couldn't even string together a coherent sentence. Get it together! "You ... left me."

His eyes were wide and for a moment, I saw a flash of fear. He stared at me for the longest of moments before dropping his head.

"I know," he whispered. "But I'm not sorry, not for leaving you. I'm sorry for what that bastard did to you. I don't think I ever told you I was sorry at the hospital. But, please understand, that I had to go, I had to make sure you got better without me constantly being there."

I was stunned. The rage was boiling in the pit of my stomach,  violently sloshing around, ready to erupt at any moment.

"No phone call, Logan. Not a single phone call from you, and now you think you can just barge your way back in here and expect me to fall to my knees at the drop of a hat?" I asked, exasperated, raising my right brow.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But, I had to do it. I had to give you the space you needed to get better."

"I hate this! I hate what we have become, skirting around each other because I'm too damn weak. I didn't need your distance, Logan. I needed you."

I could feel the sting of tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. It's the first time I admitted it out loud; not only did I admit to being weak, but that I needed him more than he knew.

"I needed you and you left!" I shouted.

My hands were suddenly against his chest. I raised my right hand and balled it into a fist, throwing it down hard against his chest.

"You. Left. Me!" I screamed, my fists raining down on his hard chest over and over again.

I sobbed uncontrollably, my knees became weak and no longer able to hold my weight. I dropped, but Logan caught me with ease. His arms wrapped around my body and suddenly lifted me from the floor. I held on tight as I sobbed into his chest, and he just held me. He let me cry, running his palms down my back and rocking me gently.

After what seemed like an eternity, he moved and sat us down on my bed. He put his back against the wall, and pulled me onto his lap. The sobs had slowly turned into silent hiccups. Pulling back, I looked at his shirt; it's wet and covered in the small amount of mascara I had used.

"I ruined your shirt," I whispered, trying to rub out the marks with my fingers.

"It's just a shirt."

A smile slowly crept across his face as he pulled me in for another warm hug. I closed my eyes and gave in, holding on to him just as tight as he was holding on to me. I nuzzled his chest as he dropped his chin onto my head.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked tentatively.

I didn't even know what we were. Were we friends? What were we? We never once defined ourselves. I had always been weak, willing and waiting for him to protect me. But, I didn't want him to protect me, I wanted him to love me.

"Anywhere you want, baby," he whispered.

Chapter Nineteen

Logan

She had been cradled in my lap for the last twenty minutes. Her tears had stopped, and she was now holding on to me. My shirt was wet and sodden from where her tears landed. I couldn't give a shit about the shirt, I would let her cry on thousands of them if it meant being able to hold her like this.

We sat in silence as she calmed, clearly thinking over what I just said. It's the truth, I would go anywhere as long as she's by my side. I love her, but I didn't expect her to love me back. I would love her even if we were just friends.

Suddenly she shot up off of the bed, and I wanted to grab her and pull her back down onto my lap.

"Shit," she cursed. "Oh god, what time is it?" She frantically ran into the bathroom.

I looked down at my watch; it's 6:30pm.

"What's wrong? It's six thirty," I said, almost laughing as she flied about the room.

"My shift starts in half an hour and I'm going to be late." She was panicked.

Shift? What shift? Had she gotten herself a job?

"I start my first shift at the bar, and I need to get there!" she said quickly.

I pulled myself off of the bed, and stood behind her as she re-applied her makeup in the mirror.

"What bar?" I asked, staring at her in the mirror.

She quickly turned, looking at me with wide eyes. She was avoiding answering the question, I could see it. What was she hiding? She sighed dramatically.

"Dr. Marsh," she started, adding a coat of that sticky stuff to her lips, "she told me to start playing my guitar again, but with an audience. So, I signed up to the open mic night at Bones. I met a guy there, Dex, he works behind the bar. He offered me a job."

She was silent for such a long time, I realized I hadn't responded. I just stared at her, my eyes roaming every curve and line of her body. God, I had missed her. Just being around her made me feel … alive.

"That's a good thing right?" I whispered, still taking her in.

"I suppose. I'm just really nervous. The last time I was there, I sang." she mumbled the tail end of the sentence.

I remembered. My god, did I remember. Tate had called me that night and asked me to go and keep a watchful eye on her, he had told me she was at a bar with Angel. It was the first time Tate had met him and he instantly took a huge disliking to him. So, I went. I was expecting her to be sitting in a corner somewhere with him, but what I walked in on was far from what I had expected to see. She was on the small stage in the corner. She was singing, playing her father's guitar. She looked stunning. I couldn't keep my eyes off hers as she sang a song that tore right through my damn soul. So fucking beautiful.

I shook the memory from my thoughts, I couldn't go there right now.

"Would you like me to drive you?" I asked.

I didn't even know if she wanted me around, I didn't even know what I was fucking doing. I had walked away from her when she needed me, and now I would do everything I could to make sure I didn't fucking lose her again. I just couldn't stay away from her any more.

"I would really like that." She smiled.

For the next ten minutes, she ran in and out of the bathroom. She was really nervous, I could feel it in the fucking air as she moved past me. She grabbed her phone and some cash, and stuffed them into the back pocket of her jeans.

Eyes off, dude. She needs to trust you.

"Ready?" I coughed, hoping to hell she didn't just see me checking out her ass.

"Ready as I'll ever be." She smiled.

Her shoulder brushed past my own, and I swore I fucking quivered. Jesus. I needed to get my head in the game, otherwise I was going to fucking crack.

We made our way out of the dorm and down to the truck, and for some reason, I opened her fucking door. Everything inside me is telling me to love, to protect, to claim. But, I know I need to earn her trust; shit, I need her to earn mine. Everything had been spun on its head, and now I realized that it’s not just her who needed to heal. I did too.

Jumping into the truck, I started the engine and drove off campus. The drive was silent and when I looked over at Neva, I noticed she had pressed her forehead against the window. I didn't really know what do or say, so instead I turned on the stereo and turned up the music. Boyce Avenue floated through the speakers, playing the song 'Find Me.'

The lyrics all but sliced through me like a knife, the words seeped through my bones instantly. The song talks about a divided heart, and the one epic love that conquers all. The guitar strums as the chorus
breaks through and I couldn't take any more. I quickly switched off the stereo and got hit with that wall of silence again.

I let the silence consume us, the unspoken words that I desperately wanted to say just hung from the tip of my tongue. But, I knew I couldn't say them, those four little words that would break apart something I only wished we had.
I still love you.

After twenty more minutes of silence, we finally pulled up at the bar. Turning off the engine, my eyes landed on Neva, who was now fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Her gaze landed on mine, and I couldn't help but drink her in. The light from the bar touched only one side of her face, the other left in dark shadows. It was breathtaking, a perfect picture of who she really is. One side dark and consumed with darkness, the other basking in the light she so desperately wanted.