Logan leaned against the empty locker, shifting his backpack over his shoulder. “Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I shrugged, too tired to think of something witty or sarcastic to say. “What’s up?”
He cleared his throat, glancing around. “I wanted to invite you to dinner Thursday. With my parents.”
Thanksgiving at the Rushs’ was an annual event, and I had spent many years with them while my dad watched football and enjoyed the leftovers that I brought back home for him. Last year, during our first time together at the table as boyfriend and girlfriend, I was left with hope for a future for the two of us, together.
This year, I had to steady myself by hanging onto the combination lock for support. “You’re kidding, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “No, I’m not kidding. It’s my parents’ rule. Family only.”
Is he referring to me as family? “Logan, do you really think that’s a good idea? I’m sure Abby doesn’t,” I whispered, tucking my books securely against my chest.
“Don’t worry about Abby.”
“I don’t, but maybe you should.”
“You told me to date.”
“Of course I did. I told you what you wanted to hear.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that you weren’t asking my permission because you love me, you were asking to be nice.”
Our hissing whispers drew a crowd of nonchalant glimpses from behind locker doors.
“You wanted to be with someone else. So where did that leave me?”
“I made choices, but I refuse to let you punish me for them for the rest of my life,” I said, fighting heated tears.
He sighed, looking down at his feet. Finally, he lifted his eyes to mine. “I’ll pick you up at three. I don’t want you walking down the icy roads.”
His words set fire to my temper. “Thank you for the invitation, but no thank you.” I turned and hurried toward my statistics class. I could sense that he was following me.
“Roam.”
Something about the way that he called my name made me stop, frozen in the middle of the clearing hallway. He walked in front of me, facing me squarely. I widened my eyes, my heart clamoring. “I need to see you. You can’t possibly know what it’s like to have these dreams every night. I feel like I’m going crazy. I need to spend time with you, even just as friends, before I… lose it.”
He reached for my hand.
I remembered the few dreams that I had before I was pregnant, dreams that involved Logan, the immortal soul alter, hurting and killing me. The dreams were vivid, like hallucinations, and had contributed to my decision to be with West and not Logan.
I hadn’t dreamed in months, about anything. Sleep had become a welcome escape, a void of time to disappear from this world and wait in darkness.
The bell rang.
My fingers touched his. He gathered my hand, holding it tightly.
By then, the hallways had cleared. “I told Abby I can’t see her anymore,” he whispered, taking a step closer. I lifted my eyes to his. “I can’t see anyone but you.”
I resisted the urge to throw myself into his arms. How convenient for me, I reprimanded myself, taking a breath to steady my thoughts. Just when all was lost, Logan rode in on his white horse to save the day.
“I’ll come over,” I managed, squeezing his fingers gently. “What can I bring?”
He grinned. “Anything but fettuccini Alfredo.”
I smiled, the first genuine smile I’d given him in months.
“See you at three.”
Chapter Two
I took the school bus to the gym for my last kickboxing lesson before the holidays. Two months before, Morgan had crossed the sisterly line into mother-dictator, refusing to let me participate in kickboxing while pregnant. I’d won the argument after citing several resources advocating prenatal aerobic kickboxing.
She doesn’t have to know it’s the martial arts version.
She picked me up from the gym, her college classes already over for the week. “Hey Socrates. You look sweaty.”
“Thanks,” I managed, taking long gulps of bottled water.
“Of all times, you choose now to learn kickboxing.” She shook her head, always wanting to elaborate on an argument that was over long ago.
“It’s safe, Morgan. The doctor said that as long as I’m eating properly and not exerting myself, it’s actually really good for me. I’ve already gained seven pounds. Seven pounds in two months is a lot.”
“It’s because I’m spending all day Sunday cooking for you and Dad for the week while you study.”
“I’m helping, but I’m still learning. You know I burn everything.”
“You burn everything because you get distracted with a book or fall asleep.”
“I can’t help that I’m tired,” I shot defensively, redoing my messy ponytail.
“I know.”
We sat in silence for a while. Finally, I cleared my throat. “Logan invited me to his parent’s house for dinner Thursday.”
Morgan lifted one eyebrow, keeping her eye on the road. “Thanksgiving? What about Abby?” She said Abby’s name with such vehemence that I almost laughed
“He says they’re over.”
“Riiight.”
I sighed. “Anyway, I said I’d go.”
“You really think that’s a good idea?”
“It’s not the best idea, but I think it’d be worse if I didn’t.”
“When are you going to tell me why you two broke up?” she demanded, turning onto our street. “There had to be some kind of event. Something had to have happened to ruin what you two had.”
I slept with a man, fell in love with him, and then Logan trapped him in 1977.
I swallowed, looking down at my hands. “Just… everything.”
“Everything is still here, Roam. You know that if you’re going to make anything work with Logan, you have to talk about everything.”
“Dually noted. Thanks for the lecture. It’s been so long since I had you to set me straight… what was it, Sunday? Monday?”
“Brat.”
“I’m going to shower, and then I’ll make dinner tonight. How’s that?” I asked, gathering my backpack and gym bag. Morgan collected two empty Starbucks cups from the Malibu, nodding.
“Sounds good. But if you get tired, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” I murmured. I touched her hand, and she lifted her eyes to mine. “Really, Morgan, for all that you do for me. I love you so much.”
She smiled broadly, gathering me into a hug with her free hand. “You’re welcome. I love you too.”
In my bedroom, I peeled off my gym clothes and headed for the shower in the adjoining bathroom. Before stepping in, I spread my hands over my stomach.
I could tell that there was a bump, though Morgan insisted I that looked thinner than I did before I’d run away. Suddenly, my skin was tighter, stretched differently than I’d ever seen before.
My mind jumped to a white cottage just footsteps from the Atlantic shore, and the memory of West’s hands on my skin made me sink to the bathtub floor.
I cried until the hot water turned warm and then cool, draining the tank in the basement. I imagined his beautiful child growing inside of me, so thankful to have even a tiny part of him that belonged only to me.
Our baby.
After managing to dry off and wrap myself in the fluffy, white robe hanging on my closet door, I sat on the foot of my bed and stared at the corner of the bedroom.
Absently, I traced my fingertips over the thin marking on my left, inner forearm. The numbers, coordinates for Madison, Ohio, were a constant reminder of the past two, dreamlike months.
Logan and I had easily convinced our family and friends that we’d gotten matching tattoos for our hometown, a symbolic gesture of our lifelong friendship. No one knew that the moment one of us made a significant move, a searing pain would force the coordinates on our arms to change
, allowing us to always find each other.
You need to know where your enemy is.
West’s backpack sat untouched between my desk and dresser. My iPod, still stuck in the middle of a playlist from the nineties, was shoved in the front, zippered pocket with my passport and birth certificate. I walked to the bag, trancelike, unsure of my intentions as I retrieved my iPod. Holding my breath, I walked away from the bag as quickly as possible.
If I caught his scent, I would fall apart.
“Playlists,” I said to myself, powering up the device and skipping to the menu. My heart thudded. He’d added three new playlists to the menu in North Carolina.
Nineties Hits, My Favorites, and For Roam.
I scrolled down to For Roam, and then moved my long, wet hair away from my ears to put my ear buds in.
The first song was my parent’s wedding song, “Never My Love” by the Association. I made it through half of the song before I turned my iPod off and shoved it under my pillow. Frustrated tears resurfaced.
West…
How could you leave me, knowing you couldn’t come back?
When my cell phone rang, I was on edge. The number was unfamiliar. “Hello?”
“So, I’m scrolling through Ally’s contacts, and I see that Roam Camden has a new cell phone number. Which would explain why the girl never answers my calls. I’m a little less offended now.”
Grinning, I gathered my dark hair to one shoulder. “Jason-May, are you calling to talk to me or my sister?” I demanded playfully.
“That hurt, baby.”
Hearing him call me baby, West’s familiar endearment, was instantly sobering. “Home from school?”
“Turkey Day break. Hey, I heard a rumor about you. I’m going to the source.”
“Gossip doesn’t become you, Jason.”
“Well?”
I sighed as his husky voice turned serious. “Logan and I broke up, but we’re keeping the baby.”
“Personal, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Well I’m here for you, little sis. You and Ally should spend more time together again. You sound like you need a friend.”
“Sounds good.”
“So… Morgan home from school?”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Morgan!” I called, walking to my door. Morgan was halfway to my bedroom as I peered into the hallway.
“You fell asleep, didn’t you? I’m not eating peanut butter and jelly again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jason-May is on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”
Her face turned crimson, an unusual color for her. “Okay, thanks.” She accepted my iPhone, pressing it to her ear. “Hey Jason, how’ve you been?”
I listened for a few seconds more before going back to my room to give them privacy. Ally-May and her brother Jason lived two doors down from Logan, and we’d all grown up together. Morgan and Jason, both the same age, had dated a few times, but agreed that our families were too close, and dating was too weird.
I suspected Jason had changed his mind.
Securing my hair in a messy bun, I slipped into my evening uniform as of late… a comfortable t-shirt and thin yoga pants. I decided to cook Morgan something wonderful to not only thank her, but to distract my mind from thoughts of West. Her favorite pasta recipe was easy enough, and involved marinara sauce, which I could handle.
I was halfway down the stairs of our colonial when I saw Morgan. Her lips were drawn in a straight line, and I could tell that she was grinding her teeth.
Something’s wrong. “Hey, what happened? What did Jason want?”
“Never mind Jason. What in the hell does this text from Logan mean? It came through while I was on your phone.”
My heart thudded to a stop. “What?”
“Here, I’ll read it to you. ‘Roam, thank you for agreeing to come to dinner. Please remember that my parents think you’re carrying their grandchild, so this means a lot to them... and to me.’ What the hell?”
Think. Fast. “What?” I repeated.
“What does he mean? His parents think you’re carrying their grandchild?”
“You know, they care about me because… because it’s their son’s baby… and…”
“Don’t you lie to me, Roam Eva Camden.”
When she was pissed at me, she always dragged the E in my middle name to sound like evil. I winced. “Mind your own business, Morgan! I’m not a child anymore. I appreciate your love and concern, but I am more than able to take care of myself.”
“I deserve the goddamn truth.”
Hearing her curse made me cringe. She’s so mad. “You know the truth.”
“I am familiar with the giant, smelly pile of bullshit you and Logan are running around here, but I want to know the truth.”
I finished walking down the stairs and brushed past her, plucking my phone from her outstretched hand. “You’re being crazy.”
“Am I?”
“Eat peanut butter and jelly. I’m leaving.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going to Logan’s house.” I slipped into a pair of tan, faux-suede boots. “It’s not snowing. I can walk.” With my coat zipped and a hood over my wet hair, I reached for the front door.
“Roam.”
“I’ll be home by nine.”
Slamming the door behind me was juvenile, but empowering. I had no idea if Logan was even home. I could see through the bare trees that lights were on in the Rush’s upstairs windows, but I couldn’t tell if Logan’s car was parked in the driveway.
The five-minute walk was colder with each step as the sun went down. I could see my breath at first, but by the time I got to Logan’s house, the sky was too dark to see much of anything. As I reached the end of his driveway, I stopped just behind his Camry.
What in the world am I doing? Logan and I aren’t close anymore, nor are we even friends. Not only did I betray him with another man, I’m pregnant.
I started to turn back to my house, but the familiar sound of their front door opening drew my attention. It was just barely six o’clock, and the street was dark except for the lamplight near their sidewalk.
“Cam, is that you?”
“I… yeah. It’s me. I just wanted to take a walk.”
I watched him reach for his jacket. He closed the door softly behind him, walking out to the end of the driveway to meet me. With every step he took, I grew more apprehensive.
He just told you his dreams of killing you are getting intense. So, you walk right to him?
“Hey.”
“Hey, Rush.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“Sure.”
We turned back toward the road. “Did you eat dinner?”
“No… I’ll grab something when I go home.”
“Why don’t you come in and eat something with me? My parents are still in Pennsylvania visiting Gram,” he added.
I considered his invitation for a long moment, forcing easiness into my tone. “Want to just get some takeout? I haven’t had Chinese in forever.”
He scoffed. “Roam, I’m not feeding my kid Chinese take-out.”
It took a few seconds to comprehend his words. As I did, I held back a surge of hormone-induced tears. Looking down, I blinked rapidly, fighting the burning moisture in my eyes. He reached for me tentatively at first, but when I met him with no resistance, he folded me into his arms.
“Logan,” I breathed, pressing my face into his coat.
“I’m here, Roam. I’m so sorry that I left you alone.”
“What if he escaped?” My wavering voice was muffled by his shoulder. “What if West is trapped, but Troy escaped… and he’s just waiting for the right time to kill me…”
“When? A time when you’re completely unguarded, vulnerable, and your asshole ex-boyfriend has left you to fend for yourself, all alone? Well, then, he’s had plenty of opportunity. But he hasn’t attacked.” He smoothed his hand over my back, his touch comforting through my heavy coat. “He’s trapped the
re, Cam. Maybe he can move between worlds, but the only place he can go back to is 1977. If… West… hasn’t returned, then Troy can’t. West would… find a way, if there was one.”
I knew it was difficult for him to speak his name. I steadied my voice, brushing away the willful tears that slid down my wind-chapped cheeks. “Thank you, Logan. And you’re not an… a-hole.”
He chuckled, gripping me even tighter. “Sorry, I know you hate it when I swear.”
“I’m not your boss.”
We stood under the lamplight for a few silent minutes. I lifted my head away from his shoulder, meeting his stare. His dark eyes searched mine, intent on reading something that I wasn’t sure was even there.
“I want to kiss you.”
My words, right before our first kiss, were whispered from him with the same pleading trepidation.
I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a steadying breath.
Am I that girl? The girl who constantly needs to be rescued, coddled, and protected? Would kissing Logan betray my love for West, a love that would surely never die?
Reaching for him on my tiptoes, I cupped his flushed face in both of my hands and sighed. I focused on a snowflake that landed on the dark shoulder of his coat.
His hands slid under my jacket and around to my back as he lifted me against his mouth. I permitted his kiss for a few seconds, but the memory of his mouth on mine soon had me responding. His lips, so familiar, urged me to part mine. I slid my fingers over his neck, protesting softly against his open mouth.
The moment his hands skimmed my sides, I stiffened. His fingers moved to touch my stomach, exploring and tender, pressing against my tightened skin.
Gasping, I broke from his kiss and stepped back.
His heavy-lidded gaze was apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“No, I’m just…” I struggled to find the right words, panting softly. “I don’t want this… I’m not ready for this.”
“I have to touch you Roam, to know you’re real, and I’m real, and that I’d never hurt you,” he said, swallowing hard and looking toward the house. “The nightmares never end. Each time, each place… each time I hurt you, I feel like I lose a piece of myself, of my sanity. Last night was the worst… I…” He stopped short, shaking his head.
Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) Page 2
