More Than Him
Page 30
He looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah."
"Can I ask you about it?"
He eyed me now, a look on his face I couldn't decipher. "Of course," he said. "I'll never keep anything from you. Come here." He held out his arm again, but I chose instead to lie on top of him. He didn't complain.
My forearms rested on his chest, my head only inches away from his. "I researched it—Xanax—treatment for anxiety . . . you have anxiety . . . or panic attacks?"
He nodded slowly.
"And it causes the pounding in here." I placed my hand over his heart again.
"Yes," he confirmed.
"And you were supposed to take it tonight, but you were here?"
"Yes," he said again.
"What causes it?"
His eyes became uneasy, but he still answered. "I have flashbacks. Not just when I sleep. Sometimes things can set them off."
"Of that night?" I swallowed the knot in my throat. "Do I set it off?"
"No." He was quick to respond. "Not all." He placed his hand under my shirt, and started rubbing slow circles on my back. "And not just of that night," he continued. "Even stuff from when I was a kid that I'd suppressed. I'm still working through it, or trying, anyway."
"I'm so sorry," I told him.
He licked his lips. "Not at all your fault."
"Have you spoken to her—Megan?"
He inhaled sharply. "No. I know she's okay, that's all that matters. But I don't want to see her, not until I get my shit together."
"I get that."
"Any more questions?" He smiled at me. Those damn dimples. My fingers traced the dips. His eyes drifted shut. "I missed you so much," he said.
I wanted to tell him that I missed him, too. Every day. But it wouldn't heal us completely. It wouldn't change the past.
My gaze caught on his tattoo and my fingers moved on their own, tracing the words. When did he get it? I wish I could've waited until he was ready, but the words were out before I could stop them. "What does your tattoo mean?"
He threaded his fingers through my hair and moved it away from my face. "It means shadow passes, light remains. You're my light, Amanda. In a life full of shadows, and darkness, and monsters, you're my light. When the blackness fades, and the memories subside, you'll be there. You're always there." The corners of his lips lifted. "You know, the first time I saw you at Jake's, at the wake—that's what I called you. In the most horrible of circumstances, that's what you were to me—a light in the darkness. That's what you became, and that’s what you stayed. In my head. In my heart. My light. Forever."
My heart beat out of my chest. I wanted to pick it up and hand it to him, tell him that it belonged to him, and that I had no right to possess it.
But I couldn't do that. So I did the one thing I could do.
I kissed him.
And just like the very first time, and all of the times after that, I lost myself in his touch, and in his kiss. I completely lost myself in Logan Matthews.
I didn't want the kissing to lead to somewhere it wasn't supposed to go, and even though I felt him hard against my stomach, he must've felt the same way, because we pulled apart after a few minutes. He licked his lips and moaned in approval. I moved to get off him, but he held me there. "Stay right here, please?"
"Am I not hurting you?"
"No," he said quietly. "You're healing me."
Logan
She wasn't in bed when I woke up. A panic settled at the pit of my stomach. I kept my eyes shut, not wanting reality to set in, but then I heard movement and her footsteps coming closer. I prayed that this wasn't one of my usual dreams. Last night felt too real. I think I'd die if it wasn't.
I felt the bed dip and her fingertips on my cheeks. Only then did I feel it safe enough to open my eyes. She hovered above me, her hair curtaining her face.
"Hey handsome," she greeted me. It made me smile like an idiot. Her smile matched mine, and her fingers poked my cheeks. "I missed these dimples.
Pulling her down and under the sheets with me, I whispered in her ear, "I wanted to tell you something last night, but things got a little . . . um . . . out of hand?"
She giggled into my chest and wrapped her arms and legs around me, getting as close as she could get. "Yeah? What's that?"
I lifted her face and kissed her on her lips quickly. Once. Twice. A trillion times over. I couldn't get enough. She laughed into my mouth. Then I said it. "Happy three-year anniversary."
"No way!" She pushed against my chest. "You remembered?"
"Of course I remembered." I kissed her again. "How could I forget the day I found my person?"
***
She wanted to take all the glass vials with her. I didn't argue. They were hers, anyway.
The smell of coffee wafting in from the kitchen convinced her to stay a little while longer. We walked in, hand in hand, just as Dad rushed in to gather his things. He tried to hide his smile, but it was clearly impossible for him.
"Morning," he greeted Amanda and kissed her on the cheek.
"Hands off my woman," I joked.
Amanda laughed. "Woman need coffee from crazy caveman."
Dad chuckled and shook his head as he left the room.
I rubbed my hands together. "Looks like it's just you and me. What ever shall we do?"
She leaned her back on the counter and crossed her arms. "I told you. Your woman needs coffee. Get on it."
"Jeez," I rolled my eyes. "No wonder they call you Demander."
Of course I did what she asked. She still had my balls in her pockets.
After handing her a coffee, I placed my arms on the counter, on either side of her. "I wish we could spend the day together." I sounded like a desperate asshole of the extremely whipped variety but I didn't care, it was the truth.
She took a sip of her coffee and set it back on the counter, and then brought me closer with her arms around my neck. "I know, me too." She sighed. "But I have classes, and then I have to work."
"Tomorrow?"
She grimaced. "Classes and then gym."
"You can't skip gym?" I started kissing her neck. "I'm sure we could find a way to work out together."
She started to laugh, a low build-up from deep in her throat. "I can't. I have self-defense classes."
I pulled back. "So that's how you learnt to attack me."
She nodded, grinning as she did.
"Well, I'm glad you can hold your own." I kissed her again. I could kiss her my entire damn life and it wouldn't be enough. "Can I come with you?"
Her eyes widened. "You want to?"
"I'll do anything to spend even a second of my time with you."
She smiled. And it was all I ever wanted.
I kissed her again.
And again.
And then some more.
Over and over.
17
Logan
I walked over to her car when I saw it pull into the gym parking lot. She stepped out, one tanned leg first, then the other. All leg, upon leg, upon leg. It's all I could see. Leg. Then she came to stand. Her gym shorts barely covered her ass. Her tight tank . . . I don't even know. Words can't—they don't—
"Can I ask you about it?"
He eyed me now, a look on his face I couldn't decipher. "Of course," he said. "I'll never keep anything from you. Come here." He held out his arm again, but I chose instead to lie on top of him. He didn't complain.
My forearms rested on his chest, my head only inches away from his. "I researched it—Xanax—treatment for anxiety . . . you have anxiety . . . or panic attacks?"
He nodded slowly.
"And it causes the pounding in here." I placed my hand over his heart again.
"Yes," he confirmed.
"And you were supposed to take it tonight, but you were here?"
"Yes," he said again.
"What causes it?"
His eyes became uneasy, but he still answered. "I have flashbacks. Not just when I sleep. Sometimes things can set them off."
"Of that night?" I swallowed the knot in my throat. "Do I set it off?"
"No." He was quick to respond. "Not all." He placed his hand under my shirt, and started rubbing slow circles on my back. "And not just of that night," he continued. "Even stuff from when I was a kid that I'd suppressed. I'm still working through it, or trying, anyway."
"I'm so sorry," I told him.
He licked his lips. "Not at all your fault."
"Have you spoken to her—Megan?"
He inhaled sharply. "No. I know she's okay, that's all that matters. But I don't want to see her, not until I get my shit together."
"I get that."
"Any more questions?" He smiled at me. Those damn dimples. My fingers traced the dips. His eyes drifted shut. "I missed you so much," he said.
I wanted to tell him that I missed him, too. Every day. But it wouldn't heal us completely. It wouldn't change the past.
My gaze caught on his tattoo and my fingers moved on their own, tracing the words. When did he get it? I wish I could've waited until he was ready, but the words were out before I could stop them. "What does your tattoo mean?"
He threaded his fingers through my hair and moved it away from my face. "It means shadow passes, light remains. You're my light, Amanda. In a life full of shadows, and darkness, and monsters, you're my light. When the blackness fades, and the memories subside, you'll be there. You're always there." The corners of his lips lifted. "You know, the first time I saw you at Jake's, at the wake—that's what I called you. In the most horrible of circumstances, that's what you were to me—a light in the darkness. That's what you became, and that’s what you stayed. In my head. In my heart. My light. Forever."
My heart beat out of my chest. I wanted to pick it up and hand it to him, tell him that it belonged to him, and that I had no right to possess it.
But I couldn't do that. So I did the one thing I could do.
I kissed him.
And just like the very first time, and all of the times after that, I lost myself in his touch, and in his kiss. I completely lost myself in Logan Matthews.
I didn't want the kissing to lead to somewhere it wasn't supposed to go, and even though I felt him hard against my stomach, he must've felt the same way, because we pulled apart after a few minutes. He licked his lips and moaned in approval. I moved to get off him, but he held me there. "Stay right here, please?"
"Am I not hurting you?"
"No," he said quietly. "You're healing me."
Logan
She wasn't in bed when I woke up. A panic settled at the pit of my stomach. I kept my eyes shut, not wanting reality to set in, but then I heard movement and her footsteps coming closer. I prayed that this wasn't one of my usual dreams. Last night felt too real. I think I'd die if it wasn't.
I felt the bed dip and her fingertips on my cheeks. Only then did I feel it safe enough to open my eyes. She hovered above me, her hair curtaining her face.
"Hey handsome," she greeted me. It made me smile like an idiot. Her smile matched mine, and her fingers poked my cheeks. "I missed these dimples.
Pulling her down and under the sheets with me, I whispered in her ear, "I wanted to tell you something last night, but things got a little . . . um . . . out of hand?"
She giggled into my chest and wrapped her arms and legs around me, getting as close as she could get. "Yeah? What's that?"
I lifted her face and kissed her on her lips quickly. Once. Twice. A trillion times over. I couldn't get enough. She laughed into my mouth. Then I said it. "Happy three-year anniversary."
"No way!" She pushed against my chest. "You remembered?"
"Of course I remembered." I kissed her again. "How could I forget the day I found my person?"
***
She wanted to take all the glass vials with her. I didn't argue. They were hers, anyway.
The smell of coffee wafting in from the kitchen convinced her to stay a little while longer. We walked in, hand in hand, just as Dad rushed in to gather his things. He tried to hide his smile, but it was clearly impossible for him.
"Morning," he greeted Amanda and kissed her on the cheek.
"Hands off my woman," I joked.
Amanda laughed. "Woman need coffee from crazy caveman."
Dad chuckled and shook his head as he left the room.
I rubbed my hands together. "Looks like it's just you and me. What ever shall we do?"
She leaned her back on the counter and crossed her arms. "I told you. Your woman needs coffee. Get on it."
"Jeez," I rolled my eyes. "No wonder they call you Demander."
Of course I did what she asked. She still had my balls in her pockets.
After handing her a coffee, I placed my arms on the counter, on either side of her. "I wish we could spend the day together." I sounded like a desperate asshole of the extremely whipped variety but I didn't care, it was the truth.
She took a sip of her coffee and set it back on the counter, and then brought me closer with her arms around my neck. "I know, me too." She sighed. "But I have classes, and then I have to work."
"Tomorrow?"
She grimaced. "Classes and then gym."
"You can't skip gym?" I started kissing her neck. "I'm sure we could find a way to work out together."
She started to laugh, a low build-up from deep in her throat. "I can't. I have self-defense classes."
I pulled back. "So that's how you learnt to attack me."
She nodded, grinning as she did.
"Well, I'm glad you can hold your own." I kissed her again. I could kiss her my entire damn life and it wouldn't be enough. "Can I come with you?"
Her eyes widened. "You want to?"
"I'll do anything to spend even a second of my time with you."
She smiled. And it was all I ever wanted.
I kissed her again.
And again.
And then some more.
Over and over.
17
Logan
I walked over to her car when I saw it pull into the gym parking lot. She stepped out, one tanned leg first, then the other. All leg, upon leg, upon leg. It's all I could see. Leg. Then she came to stand. Her gym shorts barely covered her ass. Her tight tank . . . I don't even know. Words can't—they don't—
