More Than Her
Page 51
Without realizing, I found myself sitting in her driveway.
I knew I shouldn't be here. I knew that she was done with me. With us.
A woman, I assume her mom, eventually answered the door. She wore a dressing gown over her pajamas, running a hand through her disheveled hair. She squinted up at me.
Then a slow smirk pulled on the corner of her lips. "Dimmy!" she shouted, directing her voice up the staircase. "Lucas is here."
"Uh, it's Logan actually," I tried to tell her, but she'd already moved to the bottom of the stairs. "Dimmy!" she yelled again.
I heard a door open and then heavy footsteps. I stood outside and waited.
Her mom glanced at me quickly, then back up the staircase. "Does he know what time it is?" she whispered loudly.
I didn't. I had no fucking clue what time it was. Shit.
I saw her legs first, completely bare, before I saw the rest of her. She was wearing a basketball jersey, and her glasses. Her step faltered when she saw me, but she recovered quickly.
"Hey," she said confused. Her hand came up in a small wave. She pulled the hem of her jersey down a little. "What's going on?"
I was about to speak but her mom beat me to it. "Lucas," she said, "would you like something to drink"
I rubbed my hand against my jaw, "Uh, it's Logan, actually."
"I'm fucking with you kid." Her and Amanda laughed. "I know who you are."
I'd be laughing too if I my head wasn't consumed with other thoughts. "Um, I'm okay, ma'am. Thank you." I hurriedly took off my cap before continuing. "If it's okay with you, I just need to speak to Amanda real quick. I promise I won't stay late."
She smiled at me. It was different from the smirk she gave me when I showed up. "Huh." She looked me up and down. " You're just like your father," she said.
Only I'm not. Not at all.
She left us alone and walked into what I assumed was the living room.
Amanda took a few steps forward, eyeing me as she did. "You okay?"
I swallowed. "No. Not really."
She nodded once, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.
She let go of my hand and closed the door quietly, then paused, looking around her room awkwardly.
"Um, have a seat, I guess." She jerked her head towards the bed.
I didn't move.
She stood, leaning her back against the door, her hands behind her.
I tried to smile, but I knew it didn't follow through.
"So...what's going on, Logan?"
Amanda
"What are you doing here?" I had my back against the door, facing him.
He stood up and looked around my room, his hands in his pocket. His hair all over the place from combing his fingers through it. His eyes lingered on my bed longer than they should.
"Logan?" I tried to get his attention, but his mind was somewhere else.
He threw his cap on the bed then faced me, "I'm sorry," he said.
"What?" I asked, confused. "What for?"
He shrugged, his hands going back in his pockets.
"Please don't take this the wrong way," I said, "but why are you here? I mean, I don't mind. I just—I mean why?"
Truth is, I did mind. I came home because I needed to get away from him, even just for a night. I needed to clear my head and work out what I wanted. But then he gave me that speech in the car, and I felt forced to make a decision before I was ready. And when he asked if it was enough, I knew in my heart it wasn't. Maybe if he hadn't slept with someone else. Maybe.
He took a seat on my bed and gripped the edge. His head fell forward. He took in a huge breath, his shoulders heaving with the weight of it. And then he looked up at me. There was a pained expression on his face that even he couldn't hide.
"I'm sorry," he said again, "I just—I don't know. I needed to see you."
Whatever was going on with him, it was bigger than us. Bigger than whatever issues we had to work out.
I kicked off the door and opened it. "Mom!" I yelled, "Logan's staying the night."
Without waiting for response, I climbed into bed and waited for him to join me. "Are you sure?" he said through an almost shy smile. But he wasn't asking. Not really. His shirt and jeans were off and he was lying in my bed before I had a chance to reply.
Then we just lay there, side by side, on our backs, not touching, not speaking.
"I lied," he said, just as I was about to surrender to sleep.
"What?"
"I lied," he repeated. "I was being a dick. I didn't sleep with anyone. I said it because I wanted you to hate me. So that you wouldn't want to be with me. Because it's my fault you went through all of that shit after our date. It's my fucking fault, and I don't deserve to have you."
My eyes snapped open. I was fully awake. "What?" I said again.
His arm moved up to cover his eyes, even though it was already dark in the room. "I tried," he started, "I really did. I tried to leave you alone but I don't think I can do it."
I blew out a quick breath. "What are you saying?"
"You own me, Amanda. All of me."
***
I stayed up for a long time after his confession. He fell asleep almost instantly. I could tell the moment his breathing had evened out. "Logan?" I whispered. He didn't respond. Then I reached over, took his hand in mine. And let myself have him. All of him.
***
I felt his hand separate from mine, before I could wake myself up. The heat from his body escaped from under the covers as the bed raised.
He was leaving.
I slowly opened my eyes and watched as he put his shirt back on. I sat up. "What are you doing?" I said quietly, switching on my night-light. I checked my phone; it was two in the morning.
He sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body to face me. "I'm sorry." He kept saying he was sorry and I had no clue why. "I shouldn't have come here. Go back to sleep, I'll find my way out."
I sat up on my knees and moved closer to him. "What's going on, Logan?"
"Nothing." His eyes darted around the room, everywhere but on me. There was a sadness consumed in his features. I knew he was lying.
I sighed. "Obviously it's something. You're here aren't you?"
He didn't respond.
I moved closer, and then linked our fingers together.
His eyes snapped to mine. They drifted down to our joined hands and back up again. He swallowed. "Is this—I mean are you—"
I cut him off with my mouth on his. I kissed him slowly, letting my lips linger on his. "Stay?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, but didn't move from his position.
I waited.
I knew I shouldn't be here. I knew that she was done with me. With us.
A woman, I assume her mom, eventually answered the door. She wore a dressing gown over her pajamas, running a hand through her disheveled hair. She squinted up at me.
Then a slow smirk pulled on the corner of her lips. "Dimmy!" she shouted, directing her voice up the staircase. "Lucas is here."
"Uh, it's Logan actually," I tried to tell her, but she'd already moved to the bottom of the stairs. "Dimmy!" she yelled again.
I heard a door open and then heavy footsteps. I stood outside and waited.
Her mom glanced at me quickly, then back up the staircase. "Does he know what time it is?" she whispered loudly.
I didn't. I had no fucking clue what time it was. Shit.
I saw her legs first, completely bare, before I saw the rest of her. She was wearing a basketball jersey, and her glasses. Her step faltered when she saw me, but she recovered quickly.
"Hey," she said confused. Her hand came up in a small wave. She pulled the hem of her jersey down a little. "What's going on?"
I was about to speak but her mom beat me to it. "Lucas," she said, "would you like something to drink"
I rubbed my hand against my jaw, "Uh, it's Logan, actually."
"I'm fucking with you kid." Her and Amanda laughed. "I know who you are."
I'd be laughing too if I my head wasn't consumed with other thoughts. "Um, I'm okay, ma'am. Thank you." I hurriedly took off my cap before continuing. "If it's okay with you, I just need to speak to Amanda real quick. I promise I won't stay late."
She smiled at me. It was different from the smirk she gave me when I showed up. "Huh." She looked me up and down. " You're just like your father," she said.
Only I'm not. Not at all.
She left us alone and walked into what I assumed was the living room.
Amanda took a few steps forward, eyeing me as she did. "You okay?"
I swallowed. "No. Not really."
She nodded once, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.
She let go of my hand and closed the door quietly, then paused, looking around her room awkwardly.
"Um, have a seat, I guess." She jerked her head towards the bed.
I didn't move.
She stood, leaning her back against the door, her hands behind her.
I tried to smile, but I knew it didn't follow through.
"So...what's going on, Logan?"
Amanda
"What are you doing here?" I had my back against the door, facing him.
He stood up and looked around my room, his hands in his pocket. His hair all over the place from combing his fingers through it. His eyes lingered on my bed longer than they should.
"Logan?" I tried to get his attention, but his mind was somewhere else.
He threw his cap on the bed then faced me, "I'm sorry," he said.
"What?" I asked, confused. "What for?"
He shrugged, his hands going back in his pockets.
"Please don't take this the wrong way," I said, "but why are you here? I mean, I don't mind. I just—I mean why?"
Truth is, I did mind. I came home because I needed to get away from him, even just for a night. I needed to clear my head and work out what I wanted. But then he gave me that speech in the car, and I felt forced to make a decision before I was ready. And when he asked if it was enough, I knew in my heart it wasn't. Maybe if he hadn't slept with someone else. Maybe.
He took a seat on my bed and gripped the edge. His head fell forward. He took in a huge breath, his shoulders heaving with the weight of it. And then he looked up at me. There was a pained expression on his face that even he couldn't hide.
"I'm sorry," he said again, "I just—I don't know. I needed to see you."
Whatever was going on with him, it was bigger than us. Bigger than whatever issues we had to work out.
I kicked off the door and opened it. "Mom!" I yelled, "Logan's staying the night."
Without waiting for response, I climbed into bed and waited for him to join me. "Are you sure?" he said through an almost shy smile. But he wasn't asking. Not really. His shirt and jeans were off and he was lying in my bed before I had a chance to reply.
Then we just lay there, side by side, on our backs, not touching, not speaking.
"I lied," he said, just as I was about to surrender to sleep.
"What?"
"I lied," he repeated. "I was being a dick. I didn't sleep with anyone. I said it because I wanted you to hate me. So that you wouldn't want to be with me. Because it's my fault you went through all of that shit after our date. It's my fucking fault, and I don't deserve to have you."
My eyes snapped open. I was fully awake. "What?" I said again.
His arm moved up to cover his eyes, even though it was already dark in the room. "I tried," he started, "I really did. I tried to leave you alone but I don't think I can do it."
I blew out a quick breath. "What are you saying?"
"You own me, Amanda. All of me."
***
I stayed up for a long time after his confession. He fell asleep almost instantly. I could tell the moment his breathing had evened out. "Logan?" I whispered. He didn't respond. Then I reached over, took his hand in mine. And let myself have him. All of him.
***
I felt his hand separate from mine, before I could wake myself up. The heat from his body escaped from under the covers as the bed raised.
He was leaving.
I slowly opened my eyes and watched as he put his shirt back on. I sat up. "What are you doing?" I said quietly, switching on my night-light. I checked my phone; it was two in the morning.
He sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body to face me. "I'm sorry." He kept saying he was sorry and I had no clue why. "I shouldn't have come here. Go back to sleep, I'll find my way out."
I sat up on my knees and moved closer to him. "What's going on, Logan?"
"Nothing." His eyes darted around the room, everywhere but on me. There was a sadness consumed in his features. I knew he was lying.
I sighed. "Obviously it's something. You're here aren't you?"
He didn't respond.
I moved closer, and then linked our fingers together.
His eyes snapped to mine. They drifted down to our joined hands and back up again. He swallowed. "Is this—I mean are you—"
I cut him off with my mouth on his. I kissed him slowly, letting my lips linger on his. "Stay?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, but didn't move from his position.
I waited.
