by A. J. Logan
Love.
E
Looking to him, I see a nervous smile on his face as my mouth falls open. I’m unable to say anything because all my thoughts jumble together. He isn’t telling me he loves me, is he?
Leaning forward, he tenderly kisses me, caressing his hand down my back. “If it’s not, I don’t know what is.”
Yes, he is. That’s what he’s saying. Before I can respond—although I doubt I could have gathered enough thoughts to speak—he covers my mouth with his, and I drop the sketchbook on the counter beside me. Everything about the moment seems perfect, too good to be true. Even as I cling to his solid shoulders, I remind myself to enjoy the moment because after the sweetness comes the bitter awakening. Whether at his hand or another’s, it’s only a matter of time. Until then, I’ll relish in the feel of him. And I do just that, though I wonder … if I said the word back, would it change anything? Would we continue to hide away from the world, no different than we are now? Or would my reciprocation persuade him to tell my brother how he feels about me? Love. I want to believe it’s what I feel too. But would I be this hesitant to say the words if it were entirely true? Love is supposed to conquer all, but so far, all those loving-type feelings have done is lead to chaos and devastation. If that’s what love is, I don’t want anything to do with it. Although, the further I’m pulled into Bassland, the less I care about what it’s called and the more I want to enjoy the ride … however short of a time it may last.
13
Elliot
“I think time stops in that damn room.” I plop down on the couch, grabbing Victoria’s legs to situate them over my lap while she continues scribbling in her sketchbook. The sketchbook I wrote the word love in, the same word that she has yet to say back to me four days later.
“Don’t fight at school,” she snickers, delighting in my misery over a Saturday spent in detention.
“Yeah, lesson learned or whatever.” I drop my head back on the sofa, rubbing my palm up her bare thigh as she continues scribbling away. “I even tried bribery just to leave early.” In order to see her and she has yet to look up at me. Shit, why am I being so damn needy? Reaching for her sketchbook, she notices my intention in time to pull it to her chest, guarding it as she holds up her finger, pointing it at me with an annoyed expression.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“What? I just want to see what has your full attention, because mine is on you.”
She rolls her eyes, cautiously resuming her sketch. “I’ll show you when it’s done. I need to head home before anyone shows for the party.”
“It’s at Wade’s house, not here.”
She gives me a curious stare. “I thought everyone was getting together here again.”
“I lied and said there would be parental buzzkill present here so we could have the house to ourselves.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Never mind.” Shaking her head, she resumes drawing, which feels dismissive. I’m sick of parties. All I want is to be here with her.
The doorbell rings and her hand freezes. Her legs tense under my palms as I give her an encouraging squeeze. No one rings the doorbell unless they don’t belong here, so I’m not worried about who’s there as I make my way to the front door, pulling it open. A woman stands on the doorstep, a bright smile on her face. Her hand reaches out to me as she says hello, but I move to close the door, cutting off her words.
“We don’t want any.”
“Elliot, wait,” she says, the door inches from closing.
Reluctantly, I pull the door open as her outstretched hand moves to her belly, rubbing the swollen bump concealed mostly by a sweater. No. Fucking. Way.
“Sorry to meet like this. Your dad said he told you about us, but he doesn’t know that I’m here. I’m Heidi.”
I stand there, gawking at her like a moron. There’s no way my father’s mistress is standing at the front door. She’s the polar opposite of my mother. Short where my mother is tall, blonde in the place of my mother’s brunette hair, crystal-blue eyes instead of my mother’s deep brown eyes. He went and found the furthest thing in a new woman from the one he was married to.
“I’m sorry to drop by like this, but I was hoping to speak with you about Richard.”
The sound of my father’s name on her lips, personal and comfortable, like she has a right to say it, sends a rage through me. “Get the fuck out of here. Now.”
The smile vanishes from her face as she takes a step back. What the fuck did she expect? A warm welcome to the damn family by Richard’s delightfully well-mannered, gracious son? To be invited in with open arms to seamlessly join the big, happy party? What a fucking joke.
“Elliot, who’s at the door?” Victoria asks, coming up behind me. I flinch as she places her hand on my arm, removing it from the door as she steps between me and Heidi.
“My father’s pregnant bitch. Who else would be at the front door?”
“Elliot,” Victoria scolds, looking to Heidi with empathy. How can she show compassion to the woman my father knocked up? That’s who she feels sorry for in this situation—the woman who has the nerve to show up at my mother’s home, the place my mother nearly bled-out in after getting the news of her existence.
“I said get the fuck out of here.”
Victoria turns, attempting to force me back. “Elliot, calm down.”
A malicious laugh rises from my chest, one I don’t recognize but already know it’s signaling the beginning of the end. “Calm down? Are you fucking serious right now?”
“It’s all right. I’ll go,” Heidi mumbles, taking a step back with her eyes still on me. She stumbles a bit and Victoria reaches forward, steadying her. “Thank you, Victoria.”
Victoria quickly releases her, moving back to me as I take a step away from both of them.
The sound of Victoria’s name on Heidi’s lips sends an ominous chill down my spine. How does a woman I’ve never laid eyes on know her name? Say it like it belongs in her mouth?
“Unbelievable,” I say, turning an accusatory stare to Victoria.
Only Victoria doesn’t pay much attention to me, instead asking Heidi, “How do you know my name?”
Heidi pales, her eyes darting between us. “I have to go.”
“Wait,” Victoria calls out, but Heidi is already rushing away, leaving us standing on the porch. We watch as she speeds off, her silver car disappearing behind the trees as she races down the driveway. “How did she know my name?”
“That’s the same question I’d like an answer to. How does a woman I’ve never met know your name?” There’s no point in masking my sarcasm. I want an explanation. Has she been meddling, going behind my back to fix this too? Not that there’s a way to repair any of the damage my dad has triggered.
Victoria turns to me, her expression panicked as she whispers, “I don’t know. Does your dad know about us?”
“Why? Need to have some secret meetings with him too?”
Her frantic expression shifts to a frustrated stare as she marches back into the house, shoving past me. “I’ve never met Heidi before, and I want to stay as far away from your father as possible, which is what you should do too.”
“Why?”
She moves in front of me. “Please, listen to me. Don’t make this worse. Just drop it. Pretend Heidi was never here and leave your father alone.”
“Worse for who? My father? Heidi? You? I’m sorry this is hard on all of you.” Reaching in my pocket, I pull out my key fob, heading to the garage. “On second thought, a party at Wade’s sounds better than being here.”
“Stop it.” Victoria’s angry tone causes me to halt, turning to look at her. “Do not do this to me again.”
“To you?” I callously laugh, walking to her, and I don’t stop until my face is in hers. Even when she makes me livid, I love that she doesn’t back down, her fierce eyes challenging me. “Why not? It’s not like you give a damn about me.”
“You
know that’s bullshit, so get a fucking grip on yourself.”
“Oh, I finally have a good, tight grip on reality. Stay here and finish your little drawing, and we can fuck later when it’s convenient.”
“That’s it. I’m done … with all of it.”
“You’ll come back for more dick, but that’s about it, right? No dates, no labels, no fucking attachment involved, so you can walk away at any moment.”
“I should’ve stayed away. I knew this would happen. Again. This time, it’s my fault.” The lack of emotion in her voice sends a surge of anger through me. I’m crumbling inside and she is ready to quit, give up on me like it’s not a big deal. Like it’s as easy as breathing because for her, it is.
“I told you how I felt—every sappy-ass word. Told you that I love you, but you’ve always had one foot out the door, ready to bail.”
Swiftly walking to the couch, she snatches the sketchbook up. Ripping a page out, she moves in front of me, holding the torn page in front of my face, slamming the hard book against my chest, but I let it fall to the floor. “You. I was drawing a picture of your absurd, stupid self. I wanted to tell you I felt the same way … but I couldn’t. I was terrified to say it out loud for this reason. I knew it wouldn’t change anything. You’d still turn into a callous, heartless bastard. And I knew if I admitted it to myself, it’d hurt that much more when you kept us hidden away. Nothing will ever change. Nothing good will ever come from us, and I finally accept that.”
Crumpling the paper in her hand, she stoops down, snatching the sketchbook off the floor. “I’ll save you the trouble.” She storms towards the patio door, stepping outside as I follow behind her, watching as she slings the balled-up drawing and hardback into the swimming pool.
My eyes stay on the piece of myself I willingly handed her—that sketchbook, with only the word love written in it, may have been otherwise empty if not for symbolizing the contents of my heart. So it’s fitting that there my heart lays, destroyed, floating alone in the water. “One word. That’s all I needed. Something to hold onto, but you were never mine to begin with.”
“Done. That’s the only word I have left for you.” She steps away from me, casually walking back into the house. I don’t make a move to follow, and a second later I hear her car crank up, the engine revving as she speeds away.
She’s gone so there’s no point staying in. Numbly, I make my way to my car, driving on autopilot to Wade’s house where I have a bottle of whiskey in my hand before I’ve even said a word to anyone. I drink down a generous gulp, plaster a big smile on my face, and join the party already in progress. The liquor numbs almost everything, the only thing lingering in my mind is her sad eyes. The ones that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Drinking until I eventually pass out, I’m woken not by a nightmare, but instead by the need to empty the contents of my stomach. Which I do well into the morning, praying to the porcelain god until Asher drags my ass to my last day of detention. Thankfully, that sentence is coming to an end. Unfortunately, I’ve created a new punishment that I fear will imprison me forever.
14
Victoria
Exhaustion. Anger. Numbness. I’ve rotated between the three feelings since the fight with Elliot yesterday. Exhaustion is the heaviest now as I lie in bed with the jerk just down the hallway. My anger peaked when he showed up at my house with Asher like everything was fine. Only a few moments here and there did I see the façade slip, but mostly he succeeded at pretending all was normal. Which I guess it is. Us fighting is definitely the norm, at least that’s how it feels.
The soft click of my door knob catches my attention, but I keep my eyes staring at the opposite wall. I hadn’t locked the door, assuming he would leave me alone, but that would be too easy. He doesn’t do easy. The bed shifts as he slides under the covers, lying next to but not touching me, even though I can feel the heat radiating from him.
“Get out,” I say flatly.
“Victoria—”
“Get. Out.”
“Please, hear me out. I’m—”
“Yes. You’re sorry. Blah, blah, blah. You were a dick. But you’re sorry now, so you want me to ride your dick. Hard pass.”
“Yes. I acted like a dick. Again. But I’m not here for sex. I wasn’t even going to bother trying, but I want to explain. Everything happened so fast. Heidi. Seeing her made it too real, then she knew your name. My dad swears he never told her your name, so I can’t understand how she knew it, but she did, and when she said it, I just freaked. I’m sorry, Victoria.”
“Okay. Now leave.” Because it’s best. Not only because Elliot is bound to crush my heart to smithereens again, but also, it’s easier to keep the secret from him that Olivia fears Richard tried to end her life. And now with the news of Richard’s pregnant mistress, it makes even more sense.
“You said to talk to you if I’m not good, and I’m not, not without you.”
“This isn’t about Olivia. This is about you. When I said I was done, I meant it.”
He curses under his breath as the bed shifts, his face tucking into my hair as his arm snakes around my waist. His lips brush against my neck as he says, “Don’t say that. Just give me another chance, just one more. Please.”
Done. I’m so fucking done giving him another chance.
Sliding out from under his arm, I move off the bed, heading to the door. He jumps out of bed to follow behind me, saying my name, but I don’t stop until I’m in front of Asher’s door.
“What are you doing?” Elliot asks, but I ignore him, pushing the door to my brother’s room open as Elliot follows me inside.
Stopping at the foot of the bed, I point to Elliot as Asher stirs, sitting up. He stares, blinking, at the two of us. “Elliot needs to sleep in here. He’s having nightmares again and wants to get some sleep but didn’t want to wake you.”
Elliot looks relieved. I’m guessing he thought I was going to blab about us, which reinforces my resolve that I’m doing the right thing. He’ll never fess up. Nothing will ever change.
“Man, I told you to wake me up if you need anything.”
“Nah. Lil’ V is just being dramatic, as usual. I’m good, but if I need to talk to anyone, I know I can count on you.” He says the words to Asher but keeps his heated gaze on me. “Thanks, Victoria.”
“No problem.” I give him a curt smile before quickly heading back to my room, slipping inside, and locking the door behind me. He is the problem. One that I want far away from me.
15
Elliot
Every freakin’ day. Every freakin’ day I’ve sat here, watching across the courtyard as Victoria sits at the table with Quinn and her new tool, Connor. Every day I’ve wondered why Asher hasn’t stepped in and made an attempt to get him away from Quinn, but more than that, I’m perplexed at how Victoria has sat there each day, laughing, smiling, carrying on. She looks happy. Maybe she is done with me, but I’m not anywhere close to done with her.
“How are you okay with that?” I ask, nodding in Connor and Quinn’s direction.
“I’m not,” Asher says flatly, his eyes still on them, which they are more times than not.
“It’s not like you to sit by and watch.”
“People change.”
“No they don’t.” Because I sure as hell tried and failed to be better for that sassy redhead. She glances over her shoulder, a smile intact, but when her eyes meet mine, she looks away, continuing to enjoy her day.
“Agreed,” he mutters.
“Did you still need a plus-one for the fundraiser or will Quinnster be taking that spot?” The Bennett fundraiser is always a big to-do, and since Quinn has helped organize it and will be there, I have no doubt Asher will be there too.
“She’s going with that douchebag.”
“Okay,” I say, dragging out the word. “It’s over a week away. There’s still time to make a move.”
“Nope. Connor is all set to go with her.”
“Ah. I know she’s been working hard
on it.” And I know Victoria will be there to support her, but the question is, has she lined up a dipstick to attend with her. “Is Victoria going? She can be your plus-one and I can grab my own ticket if need be.”
“She already has a date.”
Damn it. Whoever said words don’t hurt fucking lied because that one cut deep. “Fun. Who’s the unlucky bastard?” And by unlucky, I mean the luckiest son of a bitch in the goddamn world.
“Dalton.”
“Ah, Dickie.” Return of Art Boy. He’ll be easy enough to discount, but it doesn’t stop me from being jealous of the chump. “Well, then I guess you’re officially stuck with me as your handsome date.”
“Sure,” Asher mumbles, focusing back to Quinn. Thankfully, his attention diverts away from me because I can’t keep up the act any longer. Even if Dickie isn’t much of a contender, his hellcat of a date is my ideal challenge. No doubt I’ll piss her off, because some way or other, I won’t be able to sit by and watch Dickie with his hands all over her. Or anyone else for that matter. Even if I can’t hold onto her any better than my grip on reality, she’s still mine.
16
Victoria
Of course he is. Why did I believe that Elliot was going to chill the hell out? The fundraiser is extremely important to Quinn, and Elliot actually likes her. I have faith that he will be a decent human being since he’d made it through the last week without causing a scene. Maybe he’ll choose to listen to the good angel on his shoulder (not that he does it often) and influence Asher to do the same for a change. When I saw Asher as he was leaving and I was arriving home, I was so happy and genuinely excited after spending the day dress shopping with Quinn, that I was kind of disheartened by Asher’s dreadful attitude—which included him informing me that Elliot is his date for the fundraiser next weekend. I’d hesitated to ask Dalton to join me for the black-tie event, but when he messaged me a few days ago, I took it as a sign. A sign I needed to give Dalton a real chance, one without Elliot interfering, though it may be too late for that. But I had high hopes.
