More Than Him

by Jay McLean

  "I think, deep down, Ethan's the same. But it goes both ways, Dim. You can't help being in love with Logan, just as much as Ethan can't help loving you. And either way you look at it, you and Ethan—you're both trying to protect the people you love."

  Logan

  A stupid grin took over my face. I couldn't stop it, even if you paid me. Placing the phone to my ear, I said, "Hey, pretty girl." I'd been on the roof for twenty minutes, contemplating whether or not I should call her. I knew she said we should spend some time apart. I didn't get it. That's not what I wanted at all. She thought I was going to get sick of her. As if that was possible. Luckily, I didn't have to call—seemed like she was the first to break.

  "Hey yourself," she replied. "I'm sorry for calling."

  "You never have to apologize for that."

  She sighed. "What are you doing?"

  "Honestly?"

  "No, lie to me."

  I chuckled under my breath. "I'm sitting on the roof thinking about how much I miss you."

  "It's only been a few hours." She sounded sad.

  I tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, you called me, remember?"

  "Yeah," she said softly. Something was wrong.

  "What's going on, Amanda?"

  She sighed again. "I don't know. What are we doing?"

  My heart started to pick up pace. "What do you mean?"

  Another fucking sigh. "I mean—what are we doing? You and me. Us. Together?"

  My heart sank. I wanted to slap myself for believing that things could be so simple with us. I sat down, my knees too weak to hold myself up. My head lowered. It was my turn to sigh. "Baby, I don't know what you're saying, but if you don't want to be with me, just say so."

  It was quiet for so long I thought for sure she'd hung up, but then I heard her intake of breath. "I don't think it's a good idea that we keep sneaking around. I just have a feeling it's going to blow up in our faces, you know? I want to be with you, like, all the time, and I feel like there's this knot in my gut whenever we do it—guilt, or something—and I shouldn't feel like that. I shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to be with the person I love."

  The tension in my shoulders disappeared. "So you're not breaking up with me?"

  "What?" A quiet laugh escaped her. "Not at all." I blew out a breath, relieved. She must have sensed it. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you," she assured.

  "It's fine." I wiped my sweaty palms against my shorts. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I think I want to go to Lucy's bonfire thing tomorrow. I mean—Cam's right, it's just going to get worse with time. Band-Aid effect, right? Just rip it right off?"

  I heard movement from her end, like she was shifting around in her bed. "That's good. I think that's a good idea."

  "Obviously you'd be coming with me." I assumed she would, but I’d never asked. "If you want to, I mean."

  I could hear the smile in her answer. "Yeah, that sounds perfect."

  "Yeah," I agreed. "So, it normally starts around six-ish. I guess if we take into account the two-hour drive there, that means you should get here . . . say . . . as soon as you wake up in the morning?"

  She snorted with laughter. It made me smile into the phone. "What are you doing, pretty girl?"

  She sighed again, differently this time. "Laying in bed, missing the shit out of you."

  "Yeah?" I smirked to myself. "What are you wearing?"

  22

  Amanda

  We fell asleep on the phone to each other. It was close to four in the morning. He told me I should've just stayed there; he was right.

  I decided to call before I knocked, just in case it freaked him out. But he didn't answer; instead, it was a girl’s voice on the other end. My stomach dropped. I held the phone tighter. "Hello?" she said. I hung up. What was I supposed to say? I wanted to leave, run out of there, but my feet were lead, glued to the floor. Then his door swung open, and there he was. No shirt, sweatpants hung low on his hips and the band of his boxers peeking through. He had that perfect V, you know, the one that drives women crazy. His abs. His stupid abs. When I finally got to his face, he had a twinkle in his eye and an amused smirk. I wanted to lick him and punch him, all at the same time. Apparently that was the general consensus when it came to my dealings with Logan Matthews.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked through his now huge grin.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "This is a nice surprise," he said, opening the door wider, right about the same time Blonde Dreadlock Barbie exited, her hair wet, dressed in a skirt-suit. "Hey, Amanda," she greeted me, brushing past and giggling. "I’m sorry I answered your call. I had his phone looking up the bus schedule. I didn’t even think." She was too perky for this early in the morning. Or maybe I was just grumpy. Or both.

  Logan laughed.

  Fucking laughed.

  He waited for me to enter before closing the door behind him. Leaning back against the door, he eyed me. He opened his mouth to speak, but a chuckle came out instead. He shook his head. "You're so damn cute when you're jealous. I can't even handle it right now." He took the steps to cover the space between us, and then wrapped one arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him. He placed his thumb between my eyebrows and smoothed out the creases. "You're pouting," he said, kissing me once. "And you're crazy."

  My eyes narrowed at him.

  Sighing dramatically, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder. He walked us to his bedroom, placed me down on the edge of the bed, pulled out a jersey from his dresser and came back. Kneeling in front of me so we were eye to eye, he spoke. "You're crazy to think that I'd ever want any other girl, ever. Their water got cut off this morning; she came in for a shower before work. That's all. Swear it."

  I nodded, but stayed quiet. Truth? Once I'd let the initial shock of him having some random girl in his apartment sink in, I knew there'd be a valid explanation.

  "You're still pouting," he said. I didn't know I was. He sighed again, softer this time. "Are you being grumpy because you didn't get enough sleep?"

  He knew me too damn well. I nodded again. He chuckled lightly under his breath. "Let's get you to sleep then, pretty girl." He pulled me by my arms until I was standing, and then slowly unbuttoned my jeans and slid them past my hips until they were down to my ankles. He didn't wait for me to kick them off before he started removing my top. He let it drop to the floor before raking his eyes all over my body, slowly, so fucking slowly, from head to toe.

  I swear, time stood still. I closed my eyes and balled my fists at my sides. I did everything I could to not cover myself. I wanted to give him this moment, give him time to remember me, just like he said in the closet of his dad's house.

  He blew out a breath. My eyes snapped open. He was no longer there. But then I felt his arm snake around my bare stomach, pulling me down until I was sitting on his lap. I could feel his hardness against my ass. He started kissing my back, his lips soft. He nibbled lightly on my bare shoulder before moving up to my neck. My nipples ached against my bra. I wanted it off, but he beat me to it, the material falling down my arms and onto the floor in front me.

  I moved on him, my ass grinding against him. He cursed when his fingers brushed against my nipple. They were stiff with arousal. Cut through glass type stiff. Just like his dick beneath me. He gently cupped my breast with one hand, and the other moved down my stomach, under my panties. Exactly where I wanted him. He cursed again when his finger ran between the folds, my wetness coating it.

  I panted. My mouth was dry. I needed water. Air. Logan. I needed Logan. Turning my head, and wrapping my arm around his neck, I bought his mouth to mine. It was the exact same moment his finger slid deep inside me. Our teeth clanked together with the roughness of our kiss. We were rushed, needy, and desperate for each other.

  "Fuck, baby," he moaned into my mouth. Then he pressed up against me, just once, but it was all I needed to lose control. I started grinding harder into him. His thrusts became faster. I wanted more. I wan
ted him. All of him.

  I released his neck and shifted my hands to the band of his boxers and sweats.

  "Stop." He pulled away, cursed again, and then moved me to the side. Standing up, he rubbed both his palms against his jaw. "Fuck," he spat. He eyed me again, that same fire in his eyes from earlier. His jaw was tense, and the muscles kept moving, like he was contemplating something.

  Then, it happened. Something in him snapped. A decision was made. He stood between my legs, put two fingers from each hand against my shoulders and slowly, and carefully, pushed me until my back was flat on the bed with my legs hanging off the edge. I closed my eyes. My body shook. The idea of what was about to happen was too overwhelming. I was too turned on.

  The throbbing between my legs magnified. I felt the warmth of his fingers curl around my panties, and then cold air hit against my warm center. I gazed down over my body to see him at the end of the bed, his palms flat against my thighs, spreading them further for him. I must have made a sound, because his eyes snapped to mine. "Do you know how many times I got off thinking about you? Exactly like this."

  I sucked in a breath, but didn't say a word. I had none. He stood up, now, his huge, hard dick tenting his boxers. "No," he said. He was talking to himself. He reached down, grabbed both my hands and placed them on my breasts. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. He stood between my legs again, his eyes roamed from my spread legs up to my breasts, lingered there, then up to my eyes.

  "Squeeze," he whispered softly, but it was an order. It turned me on more. I dropped my head back onto the bed and did what he said. I heard him grunt, right before I felt him. My hips jerked at the instant pleasure of his lips on me. His fingers moved inside me, his tongue made laps, back and forth, up and down, in and around. I felt myself building. It was too soon.

  Then his fingers slowed, and his mouth was gone. I lifted my head, wanting to see what was happening. His eyes were trained on my hands: one hand squeezing, the other pulling at my nipple. I didn't know I was doing it. I cleared my throat. His eyes locked with mine, only for second, before he went back to business.

  Seconds later, it happened. The climb was just as mind-blowing as the fall. He never stopped, not until the last shudder had vibrated through me.

  When my body stopped trembling, my mind cleared, and the buzz had faded, I opened my eyes. He was standing again at the edge of the bed with his hand down his pants. My eyes travelled up his body. A sheen of sweat coated him. "Hey." He smirked at me. Then he started to walk away. I sat up, and pulled on his pants to stop him. "What's up?" he asked, his eyebrows drawn in.

  I dropped to my knees, and yanked down his pants and boxers in one swift move. His eyes widened when he worked out what was about to happen.

  It didn't take him long at all. When we were done, we showered and brushed our teeth. We climbed back into his bed, naked and exhausted. His arms circled me. "You haven't even said hello to me yet," he said. It's true. I hadn't spoken a single word since I’d gotten here.

  23

  Logan

  "Our sleep pattern is going to be screwed," I told her. We'd slept until three in the afternoon.

  We'd planned to stay overnight at Dad's house after the bonfire. She'd packed an overnight bag, so she'd changed from her jeans and top into a dress. I told her she didn't have to dress up. She said she wanted to. Not because she was seeing my friends, but because she was seeing me. I told her I loved her regardless, clothes on or off. We started to make out again, but stopped ourselves before it got too far. My dick was still hard. She knew it, too, because her bare feet kept rubbing against it.

  We were in my truck, driving to Lucy's cabin. Amanda sat sideways, her long tanned legs covering the entire bench seat. She chewed her lip with a smirk on her face as she felt my dick get harder and harder. "Stop it," I warned, running my hand up the inside of her thigh. "This can quickly turn into a two-player game."

  She squeezed her thighs tight, trapping my hand between them. Giggling, she removed it and sat up straighter. She moved to the middle of the seat, pressed her body against me and maneuvered my arm around her shoulders. "I love you," she said.

  You couldn't wipe the grin off my face.

  "What?" she asked, watching me.

  "Those words—leaving your lips—I don't think I could ever get enough of it."

  She kissed my cheek, and then moved to my ear. "I love you," she whispered, and nibbled gently there, at the same time running her hand over my dick.

  I pushed her away. "Quit it," I warned again.

  She laughed, that all-consuming, stomach-holding, head thrown back laugh. I pulled over, just so I could watch it. Remember it. Savor it. When she finally settled down, she wiped at her eyes.

  "Are you done?" I asked. Honestly, I didn't care if she was, I could watch her like that for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough.

  She nodded, but then, seriousness took over her features. "Are you nervous, babe?"

  I pulled back onto the road. "What do you mean?"

  "Seeing your friends again? I mean Jake—he's your best friend. You only called him once. You didn't even tell him you were back. You think he'll be pissed?"

  I hadn't even thought about it. "If he is, I'll talk to him. I need to talk to him anyway, tell him all of it, you know?"

  She nodded, and placed my hand on her leg. "If I were him, I'd just be glad you're here. Back home. Where you belong."

  Home, I thought to myself. I looked down at her hand, now covering mine. "You're my home," I told her. Truth.

  ***

  "No. Fucking. Way!" Was Jake's reaction. He basically threw Micky off his lap and stomped towards me. His eyes were huge, almost as big as his grin. He kissed Amanda on the cheek first, and then stood in front of me. "Wait," he said, looking around the bonfire. He eyed Cam. "You knew he was back?" He sounded pissed.

  Cam grimaced as his shoulders lifted in a shrug. Then Jake's gaze came back to me. "I don't even fucking care, I'm just so glad you’re home." We did that one-arm bro hug-handshake thing. When we pulled apart, he faced Amanda. "Mind if I borrow him for a while?" he asked her.

  Amanda shrugged. "He's all yours. I'm kinda sick of him, anyway."

  That got laughs.

  Jake and I walked near the private dock, closer to Lucy's main house. I couldn't even remember the amount of times we’d come here during summers once her and Cameron had started dating. "Remember that time Cameron did that back flip, and smacked his head on the edge?" Jake asked.

  "Yeah." I laughed. "Remember how Lucy panicked because we'd all been drinking, and she didn't want to tell her dad?"

  Jake laughed too, and then mimicked Lucy's voice. "If papa comes out and sees y'all been drinkin' he's gon' whoop your be-hunds, that's if he dun get the shotgun first."

  I laughed harder. Jake continued, "Luce always turns into a hick when she's anxious."

  "I know, right?"

  "You should hear her new thing." He picked up a few stones from the ground and started skipping them on the water. I did the same. "She's made friends with this black girl in one of her classes, so now, when she's been drinking, she says things like . . . Hold up, ho, you ain't be talking shit about my man."

  "No way." I said through a laugh.

  "Yeah," he confirmed. "She even does that neck snap thing. It's so fucking funny."

  We waited until our laughter died down before choosing to speak.

  "Sorry," we said at the same time.

  "What? Why?" Again, both of us at the same time.

  He motioned for me to go first, and so I did. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving."

  "I get it," he responded. "I mean—no, actually, I don't really get it. But I'm sure you have your reasons."

  "Jake," I paused, waiting for the right words to come. I wanted him to know that it wasn't personal—me keeping things from him.

  "I'm sorry," he said, pulling me from my thoughts. "I'm sorry that I was a shitty friend to you all those years."


  His words surprised me. "What?"

  "Yeah. I should've been around enough to know what was going on with you. We were boys, best friends—well, at least you were to me. I should have paid more attention. Not made shit about me all the time."

  "Stop," I said quietly. He didn't need to apologize. He'd done nothing wrong.

  "I mean it, man. Seriously, fuck my life. I have a great family, an amazing girlfriend, the major leagues knocking on my door. I have nothing at all in my life to worry about. I've never had to deal with anything. Ever.

  "I always just thought you were this cocky asshole, gifted with brains. You never let it show, you know? How hard you worked, or the fact that your birth parents used to beat the shit—" He cut himself off with a grimace. Maybe he didn't mean to go that far.

  I pulled us away from the awkward silence that would have ensued. "Yeah, my birth parents were assholes, Jake, but that's got nothing to do with you, or our friendship. It didn't show because I didn't let it. I could've easily told you—told the world. But that's not me, and you know that."

  We kept on with the damn stones and the water. We weren't trying to skip anymore. Now, we were just throwing the fuckers in there.

  "I dunno, man." He stopped with the stones and turned to me. Removing his cap, he rubbed the back of his head, and then replaced it, adjusting it until he was comfortable. "I just think I could've been a better friend. I shouldn't have just left when you didn't answer the door. I should've kept going, kept knocking, and kept coming back until you had no choice but to speak to me. I could've stopped you from leaving. I should have made you stay.

  "Instead, I had to hear a week later from your dad that you were gone. I was a shit friend to you, Logan. But not anymore. You need to know that. I don't care where I am, or what I'm doing; if you ever need anything from me, tell me. I'm not going to let you disappear again."