More Than Him
Page 57
"I get it, though. I understand what you're saying."
"I guess I just got mad at you, and angry, because Logan came back, and you guys are together—and I'm happy for you, I really am. But I'm jealous as all hell because I want that. I want Dylan to come back and declare his love for me, you know?"
I'd started crying too. I couldn't even imagine what she'd had gone through. And she was right; Logan was back, he was here, and we were together.
She sniffed once. "I just needed someone to blame because there had to be a reason for it all, and I'm so sorry that I made you that reason. It's not fair."
"It's okay," I said truthfully. "Honestly, I get it. You're not bad people."
She nodded. We both tried to sniff back our emotions.
"Are you going to tell him, Heidi?"
She shrugged. "What good will it do?"
"I don't know. I just think he has the right to know."
She turned to face me. Our eyes locked for the longest time. "When did you get your tattoos?"
I gazed down at my wrists. "His birthday—the night it happened."
She gave me sympathetic look. "Did he know you had them?"
I shook my head.
"Why didn't you tell him?"
"Because it wouldn't bring him back."
"Exactly."
34
Amanda
"Did he tell you a bunch of embarrassing stuff about me as a kid? Is that what you guys did all the time?"
"Yes," I deadpanned. "In fact that's all we did. He even told me about how you can rap Vanilla Ice, word for word."
He glanced at me quickly, his eyes huge. "He did not."
I let out a laugh. "He didn't. But your reaction just told me you totally can."
"Shut up." He tried to push me away from him.
We were in his truck, on the way to his dad's house. I'd been sitting under his arm with my hand under his shirt, playing with his abs the entire drive. The stuff that had happened last night—and today with Heidi—was emotionally draining. I was so glad we got through it quickly, and that things were back to normal.
I picked up his iPod from its holder on the dash and went through his playlist.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Finding the track I wanted, I hit cue. I watched him with a smart-ass smirk on my face, and waited for the current track to finish. When it did, and "Ice Ice Baby" started, he narrowed his eyes at me. "I don't know the words," he declared.
And right on cue, he started, "All right, stop. . ."
My laugh was as loud as the stereo. He bit his lip, trying to contain his own guffaw. "Fuck it," he announced. He turned the stereo up and made a show of knowing all the words, and throwing Vanilla Ice-style fingers in the air. He was so damn beautiful in his happy, carefree state. My chest tightened as I watched him. This boy could've turned out either way, but he chose his life. He made his own decisions. He let the past stay in the past, and he made his own future—one that I hoped to be a part of forever.
He turned to me now, his dimples deepening. "What's up?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
Placing a kiss on my cheek, he asked, "Sure?" He rested his hand on my leg.
"Yeah, I just love you a lot. That's all."
He curled his arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him and kissing my temple. "That's not all," he said quietly. "That's everything."
***
He told me to wait while he got out and opened my car door for me.
"You don't have to open doors for me," I said, taking his hand as he helped me step out.
He shrugged. "You're my girl." Keeping my hand in his, he led me to the front of his truck and quickly turned to me. "And just so you know, I love you, too."
I beamed up at him and curled my arm around his neck, bringing his lips down to meet mine. He flattened his hand on the small of my back, deepening the kiss and pushing me until my back hit his truck. My hands fisted in his shirt, trying to hold onto something. His kisses made me weak. Not just at the knees, but in my head and in my heart. He pushed me further, until my back was on his hood and he was above me. His hand went under my shirt, gripping my waist lightly.
"Ahem."
We pulled apart instantly, and looked up at his dad. His arms were crossed over his chest; they lifted slightly with his chuckle. "Well, this is déjà vu," he stated.
We smiled at each other.
It really was.
***
"Baby, you don't need a YouTube video to show you how to cut peppers. I'll show you."
He moved his hand, holding his phone away from me. "No," he warned. "I'm gonna watch this video. You wait, I'm gonna be the best damn pepper cutter-upperer you've ever met."
I rolled my eyes. "I could've done it by now." I tried to remove the peppers from the board in front of him but he slapped my hands away. "No, that's not the point. I need to learn to do this stuff."
Giggling, I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. "Why? Why is learning to cut peppers so damn important?"
"I don't know." His shoulders lifted. "You shouldn't always be cooking. It's time I learn this shit. What if you're pregnant and too tired to cook, or whatever?"
I heard Alan's intake of breath. We both turned to him. His eyes bugged out of his head. "I'm not!" I assured him, at the same time as Logan said, "She's not."
He breathed out a sigh of relief before taking a swig of his beer. He pointed the bottle at me before placing it on the counter. "You should know by now that Logan needs to do things his way. He needs to learn the specific details of everything he does, overanalyze things. That's the way his brain works."
"See? Even Dad knows that about me." He looked down at his phone, frantically typing. "Geez, Amanda. What kind of future wife are you?"
Alan gasped again.
Logan laughed at him. "That one I said just to mess with you."
Logan
"You guys know I can cook other meals apart from Taco Casserole, right?"
Dad and I glanced at each other before glaring at her. "What is wrong with you?" I only half teased, but the words were muffled by the mouthful of the greatest tasting food in the entire fucking word.
"I make a really mean pot roast," she declared.
I huffed out a sigh and turned my body to her. "Baby, quit it. You're ruining this moment."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "What moment?" I motioned with my eyes to the plate of food in front of me. "You're kidding right?" She laughed out. "You're having a moment with food?"
Dad's chuckle caused us both to turn to him. "Sweetheart," he said to her. "I think he may love your food more than he loves you."
I mocked gasped loudly, and covered her ears with my hands. Sticking my nose in the air, I joked, "Father, not in front of the child." She scrunched her nose, and swatted my hands off of her. I lowered my voice and spoke in her ear, "Seriously, babe. I could never love anything more than you. Ever."
"I guess I just got mad at you, and angry, because Logan came back, and you guys are together—and I'm happy for you, I really am. But I'm jealous as all hell because I want that. I want Dylan to come back and declare his love for me, you know?"
I'd started crying too. I couldn't even imagine what she'd had gone through. And she was right; Logan was back, he was here, and we were together.
She sniffed once. "I just needed someone to blame because there had to be a reason for it all, and I'm so sorry that I made you that reason. It's not fair."
"It's okay," I said truthfully. "Honestly, I get it. You're not bad people."
She nodded. We both tried to sniff back our emotions.
"Are you going to tell him, Heidi?"
She shrugged. "What good will it do?"
"I don't know. I just think he has the right to know."
She turned to face me. Our eyes locked for the longest time. "When did you get your tattoos?"
I gazed down at my wrists. "His birthday—the night it happened."
She gave me sympathetic look. "Did he know you had them?"
I shook my head.
"Why didn't you tell him?"
"Because it wouldn't bring him back."
"Exactly."
34
Amanda
"Did he tell you a bunch of embarrassing stuff about me as a kid? Is that what you guys did all the time?"
"Yes," I deadpanned. "In fact that's all we did. He even told me about how you can rap Vanilla Ice, word for word."
He glanced at me quickly, his eyes huge. "He did not."
I let out a laugh. "He didn't. But your reaction just told me you totally can."
"Shut up." He tried to push me away from him.
We were in his truck, on the way to his dad's house. I'd been sitting under his arm with my hand under his shirt, playing with his abs the entire drive. The stuff that had happened last night—and today with Heidi—was emotionally draining. I was so glad we got through it quickly, and that things were back to normal.
I picked up his iPod from its holder on the dash and went through his playlist.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Finding the track I wanted, I hit cue. I watched him with a smart-ass smirk on my face, and waited for the current track to finish. When it did, and "Ice Ice Baby" started, he narrowed his eyes at me. "I don't know the words," he declared.
And right on cue, he started, "All right, stop. . ."
My laugh was as loud as the stereo. He bit his lip, trying to contain his own guffaw. "Fuck it," he announced. He turned the stereo up and made a show of knowing all the words, and throwing Vanilla Ice-style fingers in the air. He was so damn beautiful in his happy, carefree state. My chest tightened as I watched him. This boy could've turned out either way, but he chose his life. He made his own decisions. He let the past stay in the past, and he made his own future—one that I hoped to be a part of forever.
He turned to me now, his dimples deepening. "What's up?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
Placing a kiss on my cheek, he asked, "Sure?" He rested his hand on my leg.
"Yeah, I just love you a lot. That's all."
He curled his arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him and kissing my temple. "That's not all," he said quietly. "That's everything."
***
He told me to wait while he got out and opened my car door for me.
"You don't have to open doors for me," I said, taking his hand as he helped me step out.
He shrugged. "You're my girl." Keeping my hand in his, he led me to the front of his truck and quickly turned to me. "And just so you know, I love you, too."
I beamed up at him and curled my arm around his neck, bringing his lips down to meet mine. He flattened his hand on the small of my back, deepening the kiss and pushing me until my back hit his truck. My hands fisted in his shirt, trying to hold onto something. His kisses made me weak. Not just at the knees, but in my head and in my heart. He pushed me further, until my back was on his hood and he was above me. His hand went under my shirt, gripping my waist lightly.
"Ahem."
We pulled apart instantly, and looked up at his dad. His arms were crossed over his chest; they lifted slightly with his chuckle. "Well, this is déjà vu," he stated.
We smiled at each other.
It really was.
***
"Baby, you don't need a YouTube video to show you how to cut peppers. I'll show you."
He moved his hand, holding his phone away from me. "No," he warned. "I'm gonna watch this video. You wait, I'm gonna be the best damn pepper cutter-upperer you've ever met."
I rolled my eyes. "I could've done it by now." I tried to remove the peppers from the board in front of him but he slapped my hands away. "No, that's not the point. I need to learn to do this stuff."
Giggling, I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. "Why? Why is learning to cut peppers so damn important?"
"I don't know." His shoulders lifted. "You shouldn't always be cooking. It's time I learn this shit. What if you're pregnant and too tired to cook, or whatever?"
I heard Alan's intake of breath. We both turned to him. His eyes bugged out of his head. "I'm not!" I assured him, at the same time as Logan said, "She's not."
He breathed out a sigh of relief before taking a swig of his beer. He pointed the bottle at me before placing it on the counter. "You should know by now that Logan needs to do things his way. He needs to learn the specific details of everything he does, overanalyze things. That's the way his brain works."
"See? Even Dad knows that about me." He looked down at his phone, frantically typing. "Geez, Amanda. What kind of future wife are you?"
Alan gasped again.
Logan laughed at him. "That one I said just to mess with you."
Logan
"You guys know I can cook other meals apart from Taco Casserole, right?"
Dad and I glanced at each other before glaring at her. "What is wrong with you?" I only half teased, but the words were muffled by the mouthful of the greatest tasting food in the entire fucking word.
"I make a really mean pot roast," she declared.
I huffed out a sigh and turned my body to her. "Baby, quit it. You're ruining this moment."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "What moment?" I motioned with my eyes to the plate of food in front of me. "You're kidding right?" She laughed out. "You're having a moment with food?"
Dad's chuckle caused us both to turn to him. "Sweetheart," he said to her. "I think he may love your food more than he loves you."
I mocked gasped loudly, and covered her ears with my hands. Sticking my nose in the air, I joked, "Father, not in front of the child." She scrunched her nose, and swatted my hands off of her. I lowered my voice and spoke in her ear, "Seriously, babe. I could never love anything more than you. Ever."
