More Than Her (30 page)

I had my mouth on his collarbone, letting the tears fall silently. I could
 
feel my body shaking.
 
He must've been able to feel my tears soaking his skin. But he never stopped the movements of his hands. Not once. The circular motions on my back, the stroking of my hair. All of it. It never stopped. He was comforting me. And I couldn't do a damn thing to comfort him.

"She always put it out where no one could see. Her favorite spot was under my arms. She always covered my mouth with her hand so I couldn't scream. So no one could hear my cries."

I couldn't help it. I let it out
—
the sob that overtook me.

"Shh," he soothed.

How? How could he be so calm?

"Then she locked me in this tiny cupboard for hours. No food. No drink. Sitting there crying quietly in my own piss and shit. Those were the worst times, because I never knew how long it would be until someone came for me. I swear sometimes it was days. It
felt
like fucking days." His words end on a whisper.

"You can stop. You don't have to keep going. I'm sorry," I frantically shook my head. I didn’t know that I could take anymore. But he didn't stop. He just kept going. I didn’t know if it was for me, or for him. "I remember hearing his voice. It always scared me you know? Even when he wasn't angry. It was this deep fucking rumble. I remember thinking that maybe he was a monster. And not really my dad. Some nights I'd fall asleep and dream that it was true. That my real dad was out there, and that this fake dad was a monster. And one day someone would kill him. Could you imagine?" He laughed once. "A little kid hoping to hell that someone would kill his dad. What the hell was wrong with me?"

Nothing. Nothing was wrong with him. I want nothing more right now than to kill him myself.

"He opened the cupboard. The first thing I saw was his fist. It was already clenched. His face was red. For months afterwards, whenever I closed my eyes I saw his face. It was the cause of all my nightmares. This fucking monster. The first punch was to my face. The next few to my ribs. I knew it was going to be bad, because normally he spoke to me while he did it. The son of a bitch would ask if he was hurting me, while he was hurting me. He'd laugh while I screamed. But this time
—
he didn't say shit. Just kept with the punches, the kicks, until I was a ball on the floor. I remember being on my hands and knees. He grabbed my hair in his hands. I was spitting blood, barely conscious. Then he lifted my head and squatted to meet my eyes. He said 'Your bruises aren't for show and tell you little cunt.'"

I flinched as he repeated the words.

He continued,
“
And then he stood up, and kicked my head with his steel cap boots. That's when it went dark. That's all I remember."

Oh my God. "Logan," I said again. I didn't know what else to say. "Stop. Please. I can't. I'm so sorry. I just can't." I was all out crying. I tried to muffle the sound with his neck. But it didn't work.

"Shh," he said. But he was distracted. "It's okay."

"How is it okay?" I lifted my head, looking into his eyes. His green eyes so clear of any emotion.

"Because," he said, kissing me softly. "It's over. We move on, right?"

I nodded. I don't know why I did. Because it wasn't. It wasn't okay at all.

Then I felt his hands on my back stop moving. His fingers in my hair froze. I looked up at him.

"I've never told anyone that," he said, his brows drawn in.

"What?"

"Remember how I told you that I didn't speak for a while when I was kid?"

"Yeah."

"They were trying to get me to tell them what happened, but I never did. I never told anyone. Not until you."

I took in a long slow breath. My eyes dropped from his gaze. "Why me?"

"Because, Amanda," he lifted my chin with his finger. "Because you and me
—
we're going to be amazing."

***

There was a banging on my door.

"Dimmy! You better not be making babies in there!"

Oh my God. "Mom! We're sleeping."

Logan's eyes snapped open. He looked from me, then to the opposite side, where Mom continued to knock. "Should I leave?" he whispered.

I shook my head.

Then the door swung open. Mom stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. "It's midday, Dimmy. Get out of bed. Were you guys having sex?"

"Oh my God," I heard him mutter. He began to blush.

"Mom!" I warned. "We're not having sex,
 
we were sleeping."

She rolled her eyes.

"We're clothed. See?" I lifted the covers so she could see for herself.

"Shit," Logan huffed, quickly covering his hard on with his hands. He rushed to grab the blanket from my grip and covered himself. "What the hell?" he whispered to me, shaking his head,
 
his eyes huge.

I laughed.

"It's not funny," he ground out.

Mom slowly closed the door, "Your dad sure as hell never looked that good."

The second she was out, Logan was on me. "What the hell?" he said again.

I laughed. Again.

I got out of bed and stood at the edge. "Come on,
Lucas
. Let me make you some breakfast."

***

Logan wanted to go to his house and speak to his dad about the whole long lost sister issue. I told him I'd wait for him in his pool house.

So that's where I was, going through his clothes and pulling out all his old sports jerseys.

He walked in a half hour later. His eyes instantly went to the pile of clothes on his bed. "You ready?" he asked, his eyes remaining on the pile.

"Nearly," I told him, packing the clothes into an old gear bag I found.

He strolled over to help me, picking up an old basketball jersey and putting it in his bag.
“
What are you doing?"

I shrugged, "I can't be in bed with you while wearing some other assholes jersey." I reached up and kissed him quickly

“Okay, pretty girl.”

***

I leaned over the center console and took his hand in mine. He was driving us home. "What are you going to do, Logan?"

He eyed me sideways, and then pursed his lips. "I really don't know." He shrugged. "It's not going to change with time, right? So I guess I'll just think about it, you know?"

I nodded. "Thank you, for sharing that with me. I know it must have been hard for you."

He brought our hands to his mouth, kissed the inside of my wrist, and then rested them on his lap. His shoulders lifted. "You're my person, Amanda. It's what we do, right?"

Logan

It's official.

She has my balls and she's not giving them back. Ever.

It'd been a week since Amanda and I became a thing, but we've both been so busy with practice and classes and work and study that we barely had time to see each other. I was so busy doing double practice sessions because of the upcoming game, that I didn't even have time to drive her to work. I picked her up every night, but by the time we got home, we were both too tired to talk about our days, let alone fool around. I cop a tit touch every now and then, but that was as far as it went.

She asked the night we got back if I wanted to talk more about what happened when I was a kid. I said no. I also told her that no one else knew about it. Not even the adoption side. No one but Jake and Micky. It wasn't that I didn't trust anyone; I just didn't want people's pity. I especially didn't want hers. So she left it alone and hasn't asked since.

I was sitting in my bed, books all over the place, when I heard the front door slam shut, "Babe?" she yelled.

"Bed."

She came into the room, dropped her backpack to the floor and fell forward onto the bed with her head on my lap. "I'm so deliriously tired," she muffled into my leg.

I tried to contain my laugh. "Have a nap."

Her head lifted to face me so she could show me the most exaggerated eye roll ever. "If I had time to nap I wouldn't have this issue, Asshat."

"Sorry," I grimaced. "You're in a good mood."

She grunted. "I have to be at work in an hour." Her head fell back on my lap.

"Can someone cover your shift?"

"No!" she snapped.

Clearly I was an idiot for even asking.

She lifted her head again, staring at my lap for a few seconds. Then she raised her hands lazily and started to undo the drawstring of my pants. "Let's have sex," she announced through a yawn.

What? "What?" I tried to jerk my hips back but there was nowhere to go.

"I don't know," she rushed out, starting to put her hand down my pants.

I grabbed it, "What the hell are you doing?" I laughed out.

She let out a frustrated moan. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening right now. I'm so tired. Is this real life?" She pouted. She looked so damn cute. "Logan?" she sighed, flipping over and looking up at me.

I stroked her hair, trying to relax her. "Yeah?"

"Please don't be mad but I have to work during your game tomorrow. Everyone else already had tickets and I couldn't get out of it. I'm sorry. Don't hate me." Her eyes began to drift shut.

"That sucks."

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Why haven't we had sex yet?"

"Because it's not just sex with you. It never will be."

Amanda

Game days were always so busy at the bar. But today was hectic because it was the first game of the season. I tried to watch as much as I could on the big screen but I was completely distracted and useless at my job.

Everyone
’
s eyes were glued to the screen, Jake was pitching, and Logan was catching. It was the top of the ninth; the opposition had two outs, two strikes. This pitch could make or break their perfect game. The buzz so far was that it was the Andrews/Matthews dynamic. Personally, I just thought my boy was
that
fucking amazing.

I didn't see it but I heard it. Loud cheers on the screen as well as in the bar broke the intensity. Everyone was on their feet, celebrating. I walked through the patrons so I could see the TV. The camera was on Jake and Logan, talking shit as they walked to the dugout. Both carried huge grins. Logan had his mask off, his dimples on full show. My heart swelled
—
if anyone deserved to have a moment like this
—
it was him.

I got lifted off the floor by someone's arms around me. At first I panicked, but when I realized it was just Shane, Ethan's friend, I celebrated with him. "I'll see you at your house!" he yelled.

"What?"

He threw his head back in laughter. "Ethan called!" He had to scream over the celebrations around us. "Party at your house!"

Normally, I'd be pissed. But right now, I just didn't care.

The game got closed out and the bar emptied out pretty soon after. Because we were so close to campus, most of the patrons were students, which meant I'd probably see them at my house.

***

Two hours later I finally pulled into the driveway. Ethan let me borrow his car because he knew he'd be drinking. There were people all over the house, and the music was blaring.

I saw a bunch of girls and guys on the front lawn. I recognized the guys from the team. Was everyone here? All of a sudden I was nervous. It was different when it was just me and Logan and our close friends, but I don't know what it'd be like in front of everyone. I know I shouldn't be, and a part of me hates that I was, but I couldn
’
t help being insecure when it came to him. I was confident with how he felt about me. It was just how other people felt about us. I shouldn't give a shit. But I did.

I made my way into the house and walked to the kitchen. And he was there, leaning against the counter, beer in his hand, his arms crossed over his chest. He had two girls in front of him. They held hands, clearly trying to flirt. Probably trying for a threesome. He shook his head, clearly uninterested in whatever they were offering.

He must've sensed me in the room, because his eyes moved around, until finally, they locked on mine.

I stood there and waited. Anticipating his next move.

Slowly, he began to smile, it got wider and wider until his dimples got as deep possible. He wordlessly kicked off the counter, walked between the two girls, until he stood in front me. So close our chests touched. Then we just stared at each other, wearing the same stupid goofy grins. Without a word, he took my hand and led me to his room, closing the door behind him.