Reckless Surrender

by R. C. Martin

  “Come in!” I hear Logan yell from the other side of the door.

  I lift an eyebrow, displeased with her command, and tentatively reach for the handle. It twists with ease and I let myself inside. My nerves are temporarily replaced with frustration as I close the door behind me. “Why isn’t your door locked?” I call out, unsure where Logan is. “I could have been anyone! You don’t always leave it open, do you?”

  “What?” she chirps, rounding the corner into the living room. She’s in a pair of tiny cotton shorts and a tank top. I’m distracted by the sight as I watch her finger comb her long, blonde hair up into a ponytail. She really is as gorgeous as she proclaims to be.“Did you say something?”

  I close my eyes and huff out a sigh. I need to get a grip. “I said,” I begin once more, “why isn’t your door locked?”

  “Well, I was expecting you, silly.”

  “How did you know it was me and not some serial killer who knocked?”

  “I suppose I didn’t,” she answers simply. “But, even if it was, my handsome secret agent would have saved me.” She grins, dropping her hands to her sides once her hair is secure.

  “Logan—”

  “Oh, chill, Double-O,” she insists, walking around me to lock us inside. “Daphne and I always lock up behind us. Always. If you wish, next time I’ll just make you wait outside.”

  “Good.”

  “Alright then. Now that that’s settled, can we eat?”

  “And drink,” I reply, holding up the wine.

  “Oh, goody!”

  “Let’s eat in here,” I suggest, taking my plate and my glass of wine into the living room. “This room hasn’t seen enough love since I finished it. Just don’t be a klutz and spill wine on my new rug or I’ll have to kill you.”

  “I’m a bartender, remember? I’m offended that you think I would be capable of such a thing,” he says as he follows my lead.

  “I had to say it,” I tease, folding my legs beneath me as I sit. “That way I can’t be held liable if you do accidentally spill and I pounce on you with my claws out for ruining my five thousand dollar rug.”

  “You did not spend that much on a rug,” he mutters in disbelief.

  “Want to bet?” I challenge.

  “Who spends that kind of money on carpet?”

  I raise my hand and smile. “It was the perfect finishing touch. I couldn’t pass it up. Look at it. Am I wrong? I mean—I’m not wrong.”

  He takes a moment and examines the room. “Okay. You’re not wrong. You’re crazy, but you’re not wrong.”

  “Ah, see?” I say victoriously, scooping up my first bite.

  I watch him do the same and we’re both silent as we chew. I can hardly believe that he’s here. With me. Alone. When he called me earlier, I never imagined that he was trying to get ahold of me for himself. Up until this point, all of our correspondence has been in relation to operation Roman-loves-Logan. It was actually the bright spot of my day, hearing him say that he wanted to hang out with me. I don’t think we’ve ever spent more than ten minutes alone together and yet here we are. By choice!

  Looks like he might have to admit to being my friend, after all, I think as I smile to myself.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “I think you and I might actually be starting to like each other. Just a little bit.” I hold up my hand, leaving a sliver of space between my index finger and my thumb to indicate how much constitutes a little bit.

  He doesn’t respond right away and I’m afraid he’ll deny me the truth. Then he holds up a finger to his lips and says, “Shh. Don’t tell anyone.” I grin at him, he smiles back at me, and I decide that I like him even more now. “So what all do you have left to redo in here? You’ve done the bathroom, the spare room, this room…”

  “After I do the dining room and kitchen I just have my bedroom left. I’ve offered to give Daphne’s space a makeover but she adamantly refuses me every time I bring it up.”

  “Take it as a compliment. That just means she likes what you did the first time.”

  “True,” I yield as I take a sip of my wine.

  “Have you made any progress on your kitchen design?”

  “Yeah!” I gasp. After hours of research over the weekend, I know exactly what I want to do. Just thinking about it makes me tingle with excitement. “Do you want to see?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll be right back.” I set my glass and my plate on the coffee table before running to the study to grab my laptop. I hurry back and plop down right next to him. I show him the images that I found and describe to him all the things I plan on taking out and what I intend to replace them with. Then, I show him the digital drawing I constructed myself, with the correct measurements of the space I have to work with.

  I don’t know how long I talk but, by the time I’m finished, I notice his plate is empty. When I look over at him, a tad bit embarrassed that I totally just went overboard with the details, I find him staring at me curiously. “You probably weren’t looking to hear all of that, were you? Sorry,” I mumble, closing my computer and reaching for my plate of cold take-out.

  “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  I bring my eyes back up to meet his before I ask, “Then what are you thinking?”

  “I think it’ll look great. You really are good at the whole designer thing.”

  His affirmation makes my heart swell. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me. “Thank you.”

  “I’m going to get some more wine. Do you want some?”

  “Please,” I reply with a nod.

  “When do you plan on starting the project?” he asks, making his way to the kitchen.

  “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about how I could use this particular renovation in our attempt to get Trevor and Daphne together.” He stops what he’s doing and arches an inquisitive eyebrow at me. I take his hint and begin to explain. “First—you can’t say no.”

  “That doesn’t sound ominous at all,” he says derisively.

  I grin as I continue. “Here’s what I’m thinking—I can have a contractor out here by next weekend. It shouldn’t take more than three, maybe four days to gut the kitchen and put it back together again. But, it’ll be too messy for us to stay here…at least, that’s the story I’m going with. Besides, we can’t go that long without having access to a kitchen. So, we’ll have to have someplace to crash over the weekend. See where I’m going with this?”

  “You’re thinking if she spends the weekend with him that she’ll finally tell him how she feels?” he asks, handing me my glass as he sits beside me.

  “Precisely. Granted, we’ll both have to do our part to encourage them in that direction over the next week, but it’s worth a try.”

  “Okay. What am I missing? You said I couldn’t say no. I haven’t heard you say anything that I’m completely opposed to.”

  “Oh, I’ll be staying with you that weekend,” I say casually before taking a drink.

  “I’m sorry?” He furrows his brow. “Don’t you have anyone else you can crash with?”

  “Sure, I do—but it has to be you.” I smile at him and he shakes his head at me. “Okay, the way I see it, she’ll most likely opt to stay with Trevor that weekend. There is, however, a minuscule chance that she’ll ask to stay with her big brother, which would ruin the whole plan! I have to stay with you. If your couch is already being occupied, she’ll definitely go to Trevor’s.” He opens his mouth to speak and I know without hearing a word that he’s about to fight me on this. “I said you can’t say no,” I insist, pointing a finger at him. “It’s only for a few days and I won’t get in anyone’s way. Also, it makes all the sense in the world that I would want to stay with my almost boyfriend. And my almost boyfriend should be happy to have me.”

  He heaves a heavy sigh as he runs his fingers through his
hair. “Fine.”

  “Really?” I squeak.

  “You said I can’t say no,” he replies with a shrug. “How are you so sure you can arrange all of this by next weekend?”

  “Rome, I’m in the business. I’ve got connections. You’d be amazed at what I can get with a smile and a wink,” I tease, doling out both.

  No. It doesn’t surprise me at all what she can get someone to do for her. Case in point, I’ve just agreed to be her host next weekend. Ash and Ryan are going to kill me.

  “When do you have time to figure these things out? This is, like, months of planning and you’ve done it in a matter of days.”

  “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve kind of adopted a sense of responsibility. It’s awe inspiring what work I can accomplish when I’m not partying every other night,” she teases.

  “I’m serious,” I say, nudging her knee with mine. “Seems like you’re at the office pretty late every day.”

  “Only recently. I’ve got a big project going on at work.”

  “Right. With Jude,” I mutter, bringing my wine glass to my lips.

  “Yeah. I know you don’t like him, but he’s actually phenomenal at his job and working with him has already taught me so much. I’m lucky to have the chance to be in on this project.”

  She’s right. I don’t like him. Thinking back to the other night at Cooper’s reminds me just how much respect I don’t have for the guy. Who hits on a girl while she’s with her boyfriend? Granted, I’m not really her boyfriend—but he doesn’t know that.

  “Let’s not talk about him,” she says, resting a hand on my arm. “In fact, let’s talk about you. You start school soon. Are you excited to go back?”

  “I am,” I reply, pleasantly surprised with the change of subject.

  “What are you studying again?”

  “Environmental engineering.”

  “Mmm, that sounds absolutely boring and yet really important at the same time.” I laugh and she joins me. “So what are you going to do when you’re done? I know you won’t stay at Cooper’s forever.”

  “No. I won’t. To be honest?” I pause and question if I really want to share my answer with her. A week and a half ago, I wouldn’t have. She’s always struck me as someone who is more interested in herself than anyone else—except for Daphne, of course. Now, I’m big enough to admit that I think I was wrong.

  I just watched her light up as she talked about her kitchen remodel. It didn’t feel like I was listening to her talk about herself. What I heard was her talking about her passion—which is bigger than she is. That, in and of itself, is saying a whole lot; she’s pretty grand all on her own.

  What amazes me more than the power she wields with a single glance is her surrender to something other than herself. I didn’t know she had it in her. As I listened to her speak, I saw a part of her I never have before. I know that she gave that to me. For a moment, she let her guard down and she showed me an honest piece of herself. Now, she wants the same from me. I decide that I should give it to her—if for no other reason than to prove that she cares.

  “To be honest,” I continue, “I don’t know what I want to do. I’m probably too old to say that, but it’s true. I mean, I know I want to do something that matters—but I’m not sure what that looks like right now.”

  “You’re not too old to feel that way,” she says with a frown. “Since when is twenty-six too old for feeling indecisive about what to do with the rest of your life?”

  “I don’t know—you’re twenty-three and you seem to have your career path all figured out.”

  “Please,” she says, coughing out a laugh. “There’s plenty that I don’t have figured out. If I start thinking I’m too old to not have all the answers, I’m in deep shit.” She sets her half eaten plate aside and turns to face me. “The way I see it, you’ve got two years to pick a dream job. You’re smart and you’ve got the whole God thing going on so I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  Wow. Is Logan Schwartz encouraging me?

  “What’s that look for?” she asks, reaching out to smooth my brow with a gentle stroke of her fingers.

  At her touch, my nerves from earlier punch me in the gut. Only, this time, I know the reason they exist. Logan. Being here with her, now, like this, makes me nervous. It’s completely ridiculous but now that it’s latched onto me again, I can’t shake the feeling. The truth is, I think that I really like her this way. Dressed down, curled up on the couch, talking about life. For the first time ever, I see why she and my sister are such good friends.

  “Double-O? What’s wrong?”

  “N-nothing. Nothing,” I stammer.

  “Okay. Well, how about you tell me about your classes? These are good things for me to know.”

  The minute I start talking, I lose track of time. We drink the rest of the wine and jump from one subject to the next, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. It’s fun. There’s a part of me that wants to reject the pleasure I feel in her presence; it’s like my knee jerk reaction, given our history. Another part of me, a growing part of me, just feels like being here with her, in this moment—and so I am.

  I’m in the middle of a sentence when she cuts me off with a gasp, sitting up straighter as she turns her ear to the door. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I ask, confused.

  “Daphne’s home.”

  I take a second to listen but hear nothing. “What? How do you know?”

  “I can hear her. She’s coming up the steps right now.”

  “Do you have ears like a bat? I don’t hear anything?” Just as the words come out of my mouth, I hear the rattling of keys on the other side of the door.

  “Kiss me!”

  My stomach drops when I look at her face and see that she’s completely serious. “Logan—”

  “Just trust me,” she says in an insistent whisper, leaning toward me as she wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Kiss me. Now!”

  I pause for a second longer, anxious as I’ve ever been at the prospect of kissing her. We’ve talked about it, I knew this moment was coming, but I certainly didn’t anticipate wanting to go through with it.

  I hear the deadbolt slide and act impulsively, pressing my lips against hers obediently. I can feel her smile before she relaxes against me and kisses me back. She feels good and smells even better and, without thinking, I open my mouth to deepen the kiss. She follows my lead without a single hesitation. Her body is too far away for easy access, so I pull her closer. She’s quick to hook her legs over mine as she tightens her own grip around me. I’m barely aware that I’m enjoying this far too much, too distracted by the way she slides her hands up my neck and into my hair, twisting the strands around her fingers. When my tongue glides over hers, she whimpers softly and, just like that, I’m a goner. In this moment, I’m hers and I don’t even care to deny it.

  “Oh—shit!” cries Daphne.

  The sound of her voice pulls me out of the Logan haze I managed to get lost in and we separate. I watch as she looks back at Daphne—but I can’t take my eyes off of her. Worse, even, I’m only capable of conjuring one thought.

  Whoa.

  “Sorry to…interrupt,” my sister says as she fidgets with her keys. “That is definitely going to take some getting used to.”

  Logan bites her lip, holding back a smile, and I have to force myself to look away.

  “Um—you two…continue. Please. I’ll. Be. Somewhere…else.”

  She closes and locks the door before hurrying out of the room. Logan giggles before aligning her gaze with mine. “That was perfect,” she tells me, pressing our foreheads together.

  “Yeah,” I manage, sure that we aren’t talking about the same thing.

  What the hell just happened?

  “I thought you said no tongue,” she whispers.

  She’s right. Dammit. I hate it when she’s right. “I, uh, I changed my mind.”

  “I’m glad you did,” she murmurs before offering me a quick pe
ck. “Should we clean up?”

  I nod, sure that I need to put some space between us before I do something that solidifies that I’ve gone crazy—like, kiss her again.

  I wake up early Sunday morning, my body rejecting sleep and begging me to address my restless heart. I curse my heart for not shutting up and then curse my body for showing favor to my heart and then get up to make some coffee. In an attempt to give my heart the finger, I push all thoughts of Trevor aside and settle myself at my desk behind my computer. For a couple hours, I get lost in my writing. It feels really good to be consumed by someone else’s world for a while.

  “Hey, you,” mumbles Logan, shuffling her way from her bedroom to the doorway of the office. “You’re up early.”

  “Couldn’t sleep. There’s coffee in the kitchen, if you want.”

  “I definitely want. I’ll be right back.”

  True to her word, she’s back in just a couple of minutes with a steaming mug of coffee and a faraway look in her eyes. I smile because she seems happy and, as much as I’m still not used to it, I’m glad to know the reason. The contentment on her face is something I haven’t seen in a long time. “How was your date?” I ask as she sits and curls her legs up against her chest.

  “It was…” She grins and absentmindedly sweeps her fingers through her hair as she searches for the right words. “Your brother is really sweet. I don’t know how I managed to miss that all these years.”

  “Kind of hard to notice when you’re too busy verbally strangling each other all the time.”

  “We met while under duress and it was all down hill from there. I’m really glad about our do-over.”

  “Four years later,” I tease. “So, do I get details, or what?”

  She bobs her head, obviously giddy over my request. “First, he took me to his church.”

  “Oh, right,” I say, closing my computer and folding my legs underneath me. “How was that?”

  “Nothing like I thought it would be. It’s been so long since I’ve been. My grandma used to make us go every Christmas when I was a kid. After she died, my parents never took me. Anyway—it wasn’t bad. Everyone was really nice to me and I told him I’d go with him again.”