Breathless

by Lex Martin

  “Ain’t no shame in having a great ass, Jo. I’ll have to beat away the assholes at the beach, but whatever.” He frowns before he shakes his head and points over his shoulder. “Why don’t I meet you in the electronics in half an hour?”

  I nod slowly and watch him walk away, wondering what just happened. Didn’t he want to see what I pick out? I’ll never understand this boy, plain and simple.

  Twenty minutes later when I give the attendant the clothes I’m not getting, she fans herself with her hand. “Your boyfriend is so hot.”

  With a deep sigh, I pile up the rest of the outfits on my arm. “Logan’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.” Words I’ve said a million times. I wish my heart would believe them.

  Her eyebrows spike up. “Are you sure? Because the way he was looking at you…”

  My heart beat spikes. “Really?” I’ve been wrong about Logan so often I’m afraid to read into anything he says or does anymore.

  “Oh, yeah, girl. Get on that.”

  I want to be brave enough to find out if that’s true.

  11

  Logan

  For a three-day weekend at the beach, our caravan is bringing way too much crap, and it’s spread across my brother’s front lawn like his house vomited.

  I have a duffle bag in one hand and a cat-sized dog in the other. Years of traveling to cutting horse competitions have taught me I only need the bare essentials.

  Speaking of essentials…

  Joey grins up at me and takes Rambo from my arms. She’s the bright spot right now.

  I’ve enjoyed having her at my house the last few days, even if I am spontaneously sporting wood whenever she wanders around in those tiny sleep shorts. Seeing her in that damn swimsuit was like squirting toothpaste out of the tube—now that I’ve seen her like that, I can’t forget.

  At this point, I’m not sure I want to.

  Coming home to her after work and spending time together—uninterrupted by my niece and nephew or mother or brother or friends—it’s been giving me ideas, thoughts I shouldn’t be having.

  When I got home last night after shoveling horse shit all afternoon, Jo had dinner on the table, a smile on her face, and a cold beer in her hand for me. After I showered, she sat me down to eat, and we talked and laughed and then kicked back with a movie, and for a second, it hit me. This could be us. Late-night dinners. Horseback rides in the meadow. Old eighties movies in the dark.

  Having her in my house feels right. I don’t know shit about domestic bliss or serious girlfriends, but if I ever attempt anything that crazy, I have to admit I’d want it with Joey. This girl gets me, and she knows I’m an idiot and do dumbass things often, but she still cares for me.

  And it’s obvious to me now that I care more about her than I’ve ever let myself believe.

  Would it be so bad if she and I happened?

  I’d need to tell her so many things. Too many goddamn secrets to count. Would she be hurt I’ve kept them from her?

  As if on cue, a text from Samantha vibrates my phone.

  Our internet went out. Can you come over and fix it?

  I swipe it away. I can’t deal with her right now. I feel like I’m always dealing with her. She knows I’m leaving town for the weekend, and yet she texts me anyway as though I’m at her beck and call.

  The thought of getting this shit off my chest, of telling Joey everything, is such a temptation.

  But how do I start that kind of conversation? Sorry, Joey, I’ve been lying to you. For how long? Years.

  Yeah, that’ll go over well.

  Even if she understands why I’ve done what I’ve done, I know this will hurt her.

  My cell buzzes in my back pocket, and I roll my eyes.

  I’m sure the last thing I should be doing is getting serious with Jo when I have Sam’s bullshit to deal with, but every day we get closer to my brother’s wedding reminds me that I don’t have much time left with Bitsy. She could up and leave and go back to Florida.

  Without her here… I sigh. The only thing I’d have are my old habits, and I’m not sure I can do that anymore.

  None of my baggage is worth losing Joey. I just need to find a way to tell her. To explain.

  “We’re never leaving,” I grumble quietly, venting about the only thing I can at the moment.

  Somehow, a family affair has become family plus friends after Patrick overheard the itinerary for the week and invited himself. Tori’s too nice and told him ‘the more the merrier!’ Which meant Patrick took it upon himself to tell some of our buddies, who loved having an excuse to head to Port Aransas and rented the condo next to ours.

  I scratch our overgrown squirrel, who’s snuggled in Joey’s arms. “Rambo, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand and head home for a nap while these clowns figure out the world’s biggest game of Tetris?”

  Joey holds the puppy in front of her face and talks in a baby voice. “Play nice with the other kids.”

  When she lowers Rambo and looks up at me with those big gray eyes and that beautiful smile, the urge to kiss her is so strong, it nearly topples me over.

  I’m in over my head with her. How much longer can I fight this?

  I lick my lips, mesmerized by the shape of her mouth, but a peal of laughter interrupts our moment.

  “Oh, my gawd. That dog is sooooo cute!”

  It takes me a second to put a name to that annoying voice.

  No.

  Please tell me he didn’t.

  Only one woman in this town laughs like that, and when her head pops up into my field of vision, I want to strangle Patrick for inviting her.

  Renee Caruso.

  Yup, a chick I hooked up with in high school. The one Joey knows about and mentioned the other day when we went shopping.

  Renee seemed like a cool girl when we were growing up, but after attending a fancy college out East, she came back with the world’s most annoying laugh.

  And she’s headed straight for us.

  Fucccck.

  I glance at Joey, who’s now staring at her feet even though I’m willing her to look at me.

  It’s okay. I’ll talk to her on the drive down to the coast and make sure she knows Renee is Patrick’s doing. I have Jo’s favorite songs on my phone that I can blast through the speakers in my truck, because I want our first real road trip to be special, and I won’t let anyone ruin it.

  Renee’s shrill voice makes me grit my teeth. “Why, Logan Carter, you’re better looking every time I see you.”

  As I hold back a groan, my eyes dart around for Patrick. He invited her, so he should be her welcoming committee.

  When I can’t find him, I force myself to talk. “Hey, Renee. It’s nice to see you.” I might not be excited she’s coming, but my mother raised me to not be a dick, though it’s hard some days. No pun intended.

  Joey takes a step back to make room for Renee, who throws her arms around my neck. Okay. Guess we’re doing hugs.

  I pat her awkwardly on the shoulder and wait for her to dislodge herself.

  When she does, she’s still standing so close to me I shuffle back to create more space.

  “Thanks for inviting me! I feel so special!”

  What the hell? “I didn’t in—”

  A loud whistle brings everyone to a standstill. My brother and Tori are standing on the front porch, and Tori looks like a cruise director with a sunhat, clipboard, and pen. She hooks one arm in Ethan’s and waves her clipboard at us.

  “We want to thank everyone for coming to our pre-wedding weekend bash. Weddings are too crazy a time to catch up with our friends, and we weren’t really feeling the bachelor-bachelorette party thing, so we thought we’d try something else. We’ll be meeting up with a few more buds at the coast, but since y’all are the ones making the long drive, you deserve extra love. I want to get the cell numbers of everyone driving. I’ll make a few quick copies for you so if you have to stop to get gas, you should let someone in the caravan know. We don’t want any
one to get lost or stranded.”

  Tori explains who’s going in which cars, and I’m surprised when I realize my mother isn’t coming. I lean over to Joey and tell her I’ll be right back before I jog over to discuss this with my mom, who’s sitting on the new porch swing with Cody and Mila.

  “Please tell me you’re not babysitting this weekend.” We’ve talked about this, how she shouldn’t be running after the kids. Glancing around to make sure no one can hear us, I lower my voice. “You know what the doctor said.”

  “Cool your jets, son. I’m not babysitting. Two of Tori’s cousins are doing that. I’ll just be here to keep an eye on things.”

  I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling.

  Running my hand over my face, I sigh. Sometimes I feel like all I do is plug up holes in the dam only to have three more gush.

  She leans forward to pat my arm. “Tori’s parents are helping with her sister’s kids, and I have their number. If I need anything, they’ll be nearby. Now, please go have fun and stop worrying. You’re gonna get gray hair before you’re thirty at this rate.”

  I recognize the firm set of her jaw. Ain’t no talking Beverly Carter out of something she wants.

  Relenting, I decide I’d better get more info. “Who are the cousins? How old are they?” It’s rare when we let someone new into the inner sanctum of our babysitting circle. Cody and Mila mean the whole world to the Carter clan.

  “They’re honors students at UT, worrywart. We met them last Christmas. We’ll be fine.”

  No wonder she wanted to stay with Ethan while Joey’s in town. She needed to plot her shenanigans.

  “You’d better not set foot in the barn.” The ranch hands can take care of the horses while we’re gone, but if Mom goes in there for any reason, she’s bound to start helping there too. “And you’re grounded when I get back,” I tease, leaning over to give her a hug. “Call me if you need anything. I can be home in three hours flat.”

  “No speeding! You know as well as I do that the drive takes longer than three hours.”

  “Then stay outta trouble.” I kiss the kids on the top of their heads. “Don’t run your grandmother into the ground, you hear me? Or no birthday presents.”

  The little brats giggle. They know I’m full of shit.

  * * *

  It’s not quite ten in the morning, and I’m already dragging my feet. The three hours I put in at the Stock Yard before dawn are kicking my ass. I’ve helped Tori pack up the cars belonging to two of her friends, along with ice chests stocked with enough food for the next apocalypse.

  When I reach my truck, I yawn. Through the tinted windows, I count four bodies, which means we’re ready to go. I hop in the driver’s seat as the engines around me start and the caravan gets moving.

  It’s about time. If I have to repack another truck, I’m gonna lose my shit.

  Rambo barks next to me, and I look over and freeze when I see Renee in the passenger seat holding Joey’s puppy.

  Oh, fuck no.

  But it gets worse because a quick look in my rear view mirror tells me Jo’s not in my truck.

  I smack the steering wheel. “Where’s Josephine?”

  Twisting in my seat, I glare at Patrick, who shrugs. “She was here, and then, I don’t know.”

  Sometimes I wonder how we’re friends.

  Patrick’s seated behind Renee, who’s cooing at Rambo. I cringe when I think about what happened in the last half hour that resulted in this seating arrangement.

  In the back of the cab, wedged between Patrick and our buddy Cash, is a curvy brunette who smiles at me and starts talking, but I’m too pissed to exchange pleasantries.

  How did this happen? There was one fucking person I wanted to spend time with, and she’s not even in my truck.

  I turn my head, noticing we’re the last vehicle in the driveway.

  Goddamn it.

  She’s gone. Again.

  12

  Joey

  The flat South Texas countryside zips by my window, and the desolate landscape calls to the deep sense of sadness that’s been building in me since Renee Caruso crashed the fantasy I’d built up for this weekend.

  I chat with Tori’s older sister Kat and her husband Brady from the back seat. I’m huddled between an inflatable raft and several duffle bags.

  Brady and Kat are the sweetest couple. I’ve come to know them well since they moved here several years ago. Even though I adore them, I’m having a hard time focusing on the conversation.

  Because my head is a mess.

  For a hot minute at Target two days ago, I thought I’d seen a spark of interest in Logan’s eyes, a sensation that’s grown the more time we spend together.

  This morning shot that balloon out of the sky.

  Now, the only thing I can hear is Renee Caruso thanking Logan for inviting her.

  Like I want to spend four hours trapped on a road trip with Logan and one of his former—current?—hookups.

  While Logan was talking to his mom, Patrick teased Renee about this “being like old times” and how he bet she was “dying to reconnect with Logan.” But the nail in the coffin was how he joked she “can’t leave scratch marks like last time.”

  I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

  Instead, I handed Patrick the dog and ran off to find another ride.

  I’m not proud that conversation sent me into a tailspin. You’d think after years of running into girls who’d banged Logan, I’d be used to it, but this week has messed with my heart. We’d been having so much fun together since I got home. Like we were in our own little bubble.

  And that’s the problem.

  This, my time visiting, is a façade. It’s not real. I don’t live with Logan, and I’m not his girlfriend, as much as I’d like to be, and no amount of wishing for that is going to transform him into my Prince Charming. The sooner I come to terms with that, the better off I’ll be.

  Easier said than done.

  Brady catches my eye in the rear view mirror. “We heard you’re heading back to Florida after the wedding. Is that permanent?”

  Why torture myself anymore? Especially since Logan will likely hook up with Renee this weekend. The thought makes me want to turn around and skip the beach altogether.

  “Probably. I need a change in scenery.” Or maybe open-heart surgery to remove the boy next door.

  Kat turns in her seat and reaches back for my hand. “We’re going to miss you, and our girls are going to be so sad if you go.”

  I’ve babysat their two daughters countless times over the years. Thinking about this being one of my last days here to see my friends breaks me in a whole new way. My voice comes out quivery. “I’m going to miss them too. Maybe we can video chat sometimes.”

  She nods. “We’d love that. And if you ever need something, you let us know. You’re just as much family to us as my sister and Ethan.”

  I give her a watery smile. She has no idea what that means to me.

  Brady clears his throat. “My wife has a way of getting her friends to confess their deepest, darkest secrets until they’re curled up in a ball crying. I’m going to break this up before you need therapy.”

  I chuckle at Kat’s annoyed gasp.

  About an hour later, my phone pings with a text. Anger and nervous energy whip through me when I see Logan’s name.

  Whose car are you in?

  He hasn’t texted me much since I’ve been back in Texas. I scroll back and see his messages from earlier in the year that I didn’t respond to, and guilt washes over me.

  Even though I’m still upset, I know I can’t do that again. It’s childish. No matter what he did or how hurt I was last winter, that’s no excuse. I won’t stoop to behaving like my brother, who can’t seem to be bothered with my existence.

  I’m riding with Brady and Kat. And because I don’t want him to die, I add, Don’t text and drive.

  We stopped for gas. I assure you I’m a law-abiding citizen. Most of the time.

/>   I fight a smile because he’s too dang charming for his own good. But I’m still feeling sideswiped by what happened at the ranch, and I’m not ready to let go of that yet.

  Two minutes later, he pings again. Why’d you leave? I thought you were riding with me.

  I think long and hard about how to respond. Part of me wants to lie and say Kat invited me or that I figured Logan wanted to hang out with his friends, but that’s not fair to either of us.

  It’s time I got brave.

  I was upset.

  There. It’s a start.

  What happened?

  My heart flutters like a hummingbird in my chest as I consider telling him the truth. I hold my breath as I type.

  I started to wonder why you wanted me around if you’re just planning to hook up with Renee. I’d rather not have a front seat to that show.

  Send.

  The second it’s gone, I want to delete the message. It reeks of jealousy, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

  The message bubble that indicates he’s typing pops open and disappears. Opens. Disappears.

  Anxious minutes pass as I stare at the screen.

  Brady taps on the steering wheel. “There’s a lot of groaning back there. You okay?”

  I sigh. “Why are men so difficult?”

  “This about Logan?” He glances at Kat, and she smiles and turns away.

  I answer as honestly as I ever have. “When is it not about Logan?”

  They both chuckle.

  When my phone pings, I almost drop it.

  I didn’t know she was coming, I swear. I’d planned to spend the entire weekend with you, not the guys. Patrick invited these people, not me.

  I guess I believe that. Patrick is a bit clueless.

  It buzzes again, and this message sends a wave of butterflies soaring through my stomach.

  When we get there, don’t disappear again. Stay with me in my condo this weekend so we can hang. Okay? I miss you, Bitsy.

  Splat goes my heart.

  Grinning at the nickname he gave me when I was six, I agree. God, he makes me insane.