How desperate did I look fawning over his attention? I rock on my butt, preparing to stand when Logan appears before me.
“You leaving?” he asks me.
“Uh…” I give a fearful look to Syd. “ Soon, yeah.”
Syd sighs. “Well, then I guess I’m going alone. I’ll catch you later.”
“No… I.”
“Stay. Talk if you want.” She smiles at me, but I see her protectiveness surface. Now that I’d spilled that my fake boyfriend and I were on the rocks, she’d be wary of my choices when it involved Logan.
Syd leaves, and a few more people file out, giving us that same curious glance I’d started to notice. Are rumors flying that something is going on between us? Couldn’t be. Logan and I are just friends.
“They say we spend too much time together.”
I snort in surprise that he’d verbalize my worries. “Who’s they?”
“That’s what I say… let ‘em think something’s up, right?”
I smirk. Self-preservation would say I should get up and walk away. He’s outright admitting our relationship is messed up, but of course, I don’t want to.
“How come you were late?” I finally ask. “Did you get lost on your way to the shower?”
“Oh, no,” he chuckles. “Actually, I was talking with Kat.”
My stomach seizes, flipping over on itself at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. Instantly, I loathe myself for being jealous, but can’t seem to stop it.
“Oh, good,” I lie. “Is she having a good summer?”
“Yeah, for the most part. It just sucks being apart.”
Of course he misses her. The words feel like a punch to my stomach. I want to leave, but I can’t. I need him like oxygen.
I work to remain indifferent. The last thing he needs to see is the betraying disgust written on my face. As sick and selfish as it is, I’m beginning to like that they are forced to be apart from each other. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“Does Gage have trouble with jealousy?”
“Oh, um… not really. He trusts me.” The bastard never trusted me, and accused me of cheating on several occasions, but his question gets me thinking. Why would he ask that?
“What happened to the paint?” He lifts a lock of my hair off my shoulder and examines it.
“Like you can see anything out here.” I gently tug my hair away from him. “I’m still covered, believe me.”
“You washed away my masterpiece? I’m offended.”
“Your what?”
He laughs. “It was a one of a kind signature piece. I could have gotten millions.”
My eyes squint, and I shake my head. “Pfft… right.”
He gently nudges my arm and scoots closer to me. “No, you’re right. You’re worth billions.”
I clamp my lips down to keep from speaking. I don’t know how much of this dancing on the line my heart can handle. What would he do if I confessed? Or worse, tried to kiss him. Pull away? End our friendship? Over the course of the week, I’d grown to need him way more that I’d let myself acknowledge, and the loss of him would ruin the one good thing about this job.
“Actually, I’m hoping to ask you something serious.”
I bite my lip, feeling my heart rate surge. “I’m scared to ask what.”
“It’s nothing bad.”
“But it’s serious.”
“Like a heart attack.”
I chuckle, then wait. The tension mounts and I can’t stand it. “What already?”
“Can I borrow the keys to your car?”
I blink in shock for a moment, not expecting him to ask for my car. “Like now?”
“For dawn patrol in the morning.” The way he inflects the end of the sentence, turning it into a question, makes me smile. Is he afraid I’d say no?
“I don’t know.” I furrow my brow. “My car’s a little small for surfboards, don’t you think?”
“We can put the boards on the roof. I’ve got straps.”
The idea is intriguing, but I want to make him suffer a bit more. “We?”
“Me and Brady. Once the kids come, we won’t get any time in.” When I don’t say anything, he adds a shy, “I did remove all the maggots off the snack shack floor for you.”
I shiver remembering the scene.
“True. I guess I can share, maybe…” The evening breeze blows over my face, whipping my hair around, and I shiver again. “Ooh, it’s cold.”
He pulls off his hoodie and spreads it over my shoulders. “You’re really amazing, Mad,” he says close to my ear.
My breath stalls in my throat. “I am?”
“Yeah. You’re smart and generous, and clever. And beautiful, and if you were mine, I’d be jealous. I… I just wanted to tell you that.”
I press my lips together to stop my burgeoning smile from practically unzipping my face open. This guy! “Stop. You’re giving me an ego.”
“You’re right, that’s what your boyfriend is for… but I just sensed you needed to hear it.”
I pick at the paint on my fingernails while my stomach does somersaults. In what alter universe does this guy live anyway?
“And with that phone call, I’m sorry for prying. It’s your business.” He rests his hand on the log behind me and leans in.
“You weren’t.”
“No, I was. It’s just that I care.”
I breathe in his scent, and it wraps around me once again. Somehow, he’s weaseled his way past my defenses, and has managed to hold the pieces of my heart together at the same time. “How can I fault you for that?”
“It’s what friends do, right?”
Friends. In any other circumstances, that moniker would be the kiss of death. But with him, it feels like the highest of titles. “Actually, that’s my mantra for the summer.”
The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
“Your mantra?”
I pinch my eyes shut. Crap. My mantra was to guard my heart, not whatever it is we are talking about. I fumble for what to say.
“What’s your mantra?” he asks into my hair.
“To let things be.”
I feel his hand slid up and hook around my waist. He hugs me, and his heartbeat thrums against my shoulder, faster than normal—matching my own. Is he nervous? Is something more than just friendship blossoming between us? I push the wishful thoughts away. Each time he’s mentioned Kat, he’s reinforced his feelings for her. Everything is perfect between them, other than the fact they are apart. We’re just friends, and that’s what I want—or at least I have to convince myself that’s what I want. Crap on toast.
“That’s a great mantra.”
I feel his warmth next to me, his soft breaths. I imagine he’s mine, that his relationship is a lie, just like mine is. I don’t want the moment to end. I want him to kiss me.
Eventually, he lets go. By this point we’re the last two sitting alone by the dying fire. And like an idiot, even though I’m exhausted from everything, I don’t suggest we leave, soaking up his attention for as many minutes as he’ll give me.
“Did you hear about camping on the beach this weekend?” I ask.
“Camping?”
“Oh.” I sit up tall. “We’re going to some private beach up north and staying overnight on Saturday. Sounds really beautiful.”
He stiffens. “Up north?”
I glance at him with concern. “Yeah. Does that bother you or something?”
“No, I…” He stands and warms his hands by the fire. “I know of a private beach where you guys won’t have to worry about cops kicking you off the beach, and it’s closer.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” I laugh at my joke for a moment before catching the fact he didn’t include himself. “Wait. You’re not going to go?”
“Uh… no. I’d like to go home for the weekend, if I can find a way there.”
Going home? My hopes of having more quality time fizzles out, and the jealousy returns. If all he wants is to be wi
th Kat, then what’s he doing with me?
“Where’s home?”
“An hour or so…” He turns, expectantly, like he wants to ask me something.
“I can drop you off,” I offer like an idiot.
“Really?” He lets out a happy exhale. “Actually, the beach is only thirty minutes from my house, and my mom could make everyone breakfast on Sunday when you come back through to pick me up.”
The thought of meeting his girlfriend makes my heart pinch. “I’m sure the group wouldn’t turn down home cooking after a week of camp food. Why don’t you two come along?”
I want to slice off my tongue. Why am I being so nice?
“Maybe. I’ll have to see.” His tone doesn’t sound promising, but the thought of what the two of them would be doing once they are alone makes me nauseous.
I internally smack myself around, hoping to knock some sense into my dumb brain. I have no right to be jealous. I knew from the beginning he had a girlfriend and that all we’d ever be is friends.
Double crap!
Though it took all my strength, I stand up and start to take off his hoodie. We have to stop pretending—correction, I have to stop.
“Actually, I’m tired. I’m going to go back.” I hold it out like it’s going to burn me.
He watches me, and I catch the concern in his eyes. “Are you mad?”
I shake my head and rub at my sore shoulder. “It’s been a really long day. I just need some sleep.”
“I’ll walk you back.” He gestures to the trail. “Can you wait till I put out the fire?”
“Sure.”
I fold my arms and watch him fetch a pail and fill it from the water spigot. Within a few moments, the ashes are steaming.
For the first few minutes of walking, we remain quiet. Our hands, though, keep bumping into one another, and I slide mine into my pocket to keep my distance. I’m done with the blurred lines of our relationship. Actually, maybe getting to know more about this girlfriend of his would force me to put things in perspective.
“So how long have you been together?”
“It’ll be one year this weekend.”
Or not. Perfect. A romantic anniversary weekend. My stomach turns at the idea of what that might entail.
“Congrats.” I try to keep the animosity out of my voice, but can still hear it.
“Yeah. You’d really like her. You’re so similar, it’s crazy.”
Similar? I withhold my desire to snicker, when it hits me. Is that why he’s latched himself onto me? Because I remind him of Kat?
“How so?” I try not to sound offended.
“How you joke around and the stuff you say. I don’t know. But you’re older.”
I snort. “What do you mean older?”
“Yeah, by a year.”
A chuckle bursts out of my lips. “You make it sound like that’s a huge difference.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never dated an older woman.”
I snort again and shake my head. “You’re older than me. Aren’t you?”
“Actually, I’m nineteen, but don’t tell anyone. You’re supposed to be twenty in order to be a counselor, but I will be August 1st.”
I pull my head backward. By his confidence, I would have guessed him to be at least twenty-one, but I’m still a little surprised they let it slide. Dirk must have been desperate.
The fact he’s equating age with confidence is still ridiculous, though. Did he not see me fall apart after the phone call today? Or is my superb acting skills garnering this reaction. Even still, the whole thing is crazy, considering he’s taken. “So you’re saying, that if you were single, I’d be off limits.”
He shrugs. “I don’t think I could compete.”
“’Cause I’m a scary cougar.”
He chuckles “Well, if the title fits.”
My eyebrows shoot up. The implication makes me feel like I have one foot in the grave. “What?”
He laughs, and I finally get he’s teasing me.
“Logan!” I roll my eyes and punch him in the arm. “That’s not funny, especially since I’m the keeper of the Drumsticks.”
He sucks in a gasp and massages his arm. “You wouldn’t.”
I cup my hand over my ear. “What? Speak up, Sonny. I can’t hear you.”
He laughs. “I meant it as a compliment.”
“Why don’t I feel flattered?”
We clear the trail and walk up onto the deserted road. Logan sobers and breathes hard. “Two more nights of freedom.”
My heart rate picks up. I know exactly what that means, and part of me is sad. “I hope the minions are nice.”
“Just remember this talk when I come to you sleep deprived and desperate.”
“And I’ll happily give you coffee.” I chuckle, but secretly wish the whole summer could be like this, that Kat wasn’t in the picture, that he wouldn’t leave me Saturday to see her, that I wasn’t imagining our connection. Is all this fuss over me being older to cover for something? I don’t think my confidence, or great act, is my downfall. Maybe he needs to come to his senses and figure out an older woman is exactly what he needs.
Crap.
I shake my head. Rationalizing this entire situation is ludicrous, not to mention rude to Kat. I’d left home over this same ordeal, not to become just like Allie. Logan is safe, yes, but he is also taken, and I can’t let those dark long lashes make me forget that, not even for a second. Otherwise, my heart will smash into pieces. And I can’t go through that again. I wouldn’t survive.
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning, I stumble late into the dining room. After cleaning the shack from top to bottom, painting with Logan, and being Syd’s running partner, my body is screaming for me to halt. I can barely move.
“Whoa, what happened to you?” Syd passes with her bowl of oatmeal smothered in brown sugar and cream. I’d slept through her alarm and mine.
“I told you I don’t run.” I narrow my eyes at her, until I catch Joe’s glare from the kitchen. “Crap. I need to talk to my boss.”
Syd turns toward Joe, then gives me her best sympathy smile. Slowly, I hobble toward him.
“Madison,” Joe says in a stern tone. He stops, and eyes me up and down. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s nothing. Few sore muscles.” I lower my eyes. “I slept through my alarm. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“You bet it won’t happen again. Luckily, I had Kitty this morning or breakfast would have been a disaster. You’re lucky it’s just your peers and not a gang of ravenous teenage animals.”
“I’m sorry.” I swallow hard, catching Kitty’s glare from the corner of my eye.
“Well, to make it up, I’ve got a special job for you.” He gestures to a paper bag in the corner by the door. “The shack needs a coat of paint. Your supplies are there. I don’t care when it happens, it just needs to be done before Sunday.”
More painting? My brows lift and press together. “Uh, okay.”
“Good. Now get out of here. I have work to do.” He shoos me away and marches off to yell at one of the dishwashing crew.
I limp slowly through the dining room and find Syd at the toast station. I eye her toast as if it were a hundred pounds. “Any rice cakes on the menu?”
“You poor thing. Let me take care of you. ” Syd grabs a tray, and helps me retrieve something to eat.
After I beg for my food to be pulverized small enough to slurp through a straw, I slowly eat my oatmeal, withholding my desire to grunt through each bite. The thought of lifting my arms to paint the snack shack makes me break out in a cold sweat.
“So what’d Joe say?” Syd asks.
“He wants me to paint the snack shack today.”
Syd snickers. “You and paint, the romance.”
“Please,” I beg. “Please help me today. I promise I’ll take all your extra shifts in the kitchen. I don’t think I can lift my arms over my head.”
Syd’s head twitches in Kitty’s
direction. “I promised you-know-who I’d help organize the craft room today.”
“Kitty?” I say in exasperation. “You can’t do that today. I promise I’ll do your laundry all summer. I’ll give you free ice cream anytime you want. Anything.”
My keys clattered on the table in front of me. “You had me at free.”
I look up into Logan’s gorgeous twinkling brown eyes. His wet hair is pushed off his forehead, and yet he smells of the ocean.
“This is all your fault,” I glower.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I’m so sore from painting, I can’t move today.”
His lip pulls upward. “So what you’re saying is I can borrow your car anytime I want, if I’ll help paint the snack shack.”
“How long have you been listening to our conversation?”
“Long enough to work it to my advantage.”
“Evil,” Syd says.
I lean forward and rest my head on my folded arms. This sounds like a bargain with the devil.
“Logan,” I whine.
He says nothing, but I hear movements, like they’re doing sign language while I’m not looking.
“Fine. Whatever. I’m desperate,” I agree, but don’t lift my head.
“I’ll think about it.”
“What?” I pop my head up. Pain radiates down my arms.
He laughs and walks over to the buffet line, returning ten minutes later with four pieces of toast, a cup of orange juice and milk each, a bowl of oatmeal, four slices of bacon and a bowl of fruit.
“Eat much?”
He pats his flat stomach before sliding in next to me. “This is just an appetizer.”
I laugh, but can feel everyone’s eyes on me, including Syd’s appraising stare. What happened that made everyone so twitchy? I glance at her in concern, to which she shrugs it off. I’d be getting an earful later.
“No worries, Mad. I’ll help you paint,” she offers.
I breathe out a sigh in relief. “Oh, thank you. You’re an angel.”
“Oh, you’re so not getting all the free ice cream.” Logan leans forward, palms flat on the table. “I need this gig.”
Syd leans over the table. “Too late, surfer boy. You had your chance.”
“How about we wager for it?”
“What do you mean? Like a bet?”
Truly Madly Deeply: Volumes 1-4 Page 6
