And It All Comes Down To You

by Kyra Lennon

  I would have felt bad if I hadn’t been laughing so much at the expression of delight on Logan’s face from scaring me. His eyes and smile were wider than I’d ever seen them, and I wiped away tears of laughter, even though my heart was banging from the fright he’d given me.

  “We need to get out of here before we get thrown out,” I said. “And FYI, I may need to buy a few extra pairs of knickers now!”

  “So does that lady over there.” Logan nodded in the direction of a woman who was still glaring at us, her hand over her chest as if we’d nearly caused her to have a heart attack.

  I mouthed “sorry” to her, trying to at least appear apologetic.

  Logan and I had tapped into each other’s inner child, and it made all the drama of our earlier rain-soaked run melt away. As we laughed like idiots on our way to pay for our things, Logan reached for my hand again, pulling me along. It was all part of the silliness, of course, but his touch shot tingles up my arm to my chest, where the tingles settled around my heart, nestling there and filling me with warmth.

  Isn’t that what everyone wants in a relationship? Not only someone to trust, to confide in, to talk to when times get rough, but someone you can be an absolute twat with, with no concerns they’re going to think you’re a weirdo? I never realised that was what I wanted before, but messing around in such a way made me see what had been missing from my other relationships. Sure, I’d had fun with my past boyfriends, but not this kind of fun. Not outright, carefree fun that made my stomach ache from the giggling. Again, I wondered if the reason we could be this way was because we’d known each other since we were kids. Maybe we’d regressed together. Logan always reminded me of being a teenager – the strength of my crush on him was strong enough that, even as an adult, it still had the power to make my insides ache as I remembered how many times I’d felt despair because he didn’t even know my name. And even when that changed, the despair never left because I thought he’d never see me as anything special. When he’d revealed he remembered me earlier, little fireworks went off inside me. Yeah, I really had gone back in time.

  After another taxi ride back to the B&B, Logan and I dumped our bags in our room then collapsed on the bed again. Now fully clothed, I wasn’t afraid to sit a little closer to him. I let my foot brush against his, and when he didn’t move away, I rested my hand close to his. Not close enough that they touched, but close enough that the option was there, should one of us want to make that move.

  While we’d been full of chatter earlier, rushing around so much had taken its toll on us both, and after a short time, Logan fell asleep beside me. Once again, I allowed myself to take in the sound of the rain and Logan’s gentle breaths. I smiled to myself, thinking about the fact that this trip wouldn’t be over for a long time yet. We had the whole night. A whole night together.

  I glanced at him, watching his chest slowly rising and falling. I missed being able to see his beautiful eyes, but I loved how his hair had fallen slightly across his face, and how peaceful he looked. My own eyes grew heavy after a while, and with a grin on my lips, I drifted off to sleep too.

  **

  An almighty rumbling sound caused my eyelids to lift wide open. I shifted my gaze left and right, trying to get a grip on reality. Where was I? What the hell was that noise?

  “Sorry.”

  I blinked a few times at the sound of the voice. Oh right. Yes. Logan! B&B. Got it.

  “Was that your stomach?” I asked, turning onto my side to face him, where he was still lying beside me. He had a similar look to the one he’d had when he’d picked me up. Hair messy, brown eyes a teensy a bit sleepy-looking.

  Still gorgeous.

  He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

  “Jesus. I guess I’d better get up if you’re so hungry that your stomach is rumbling loud enough to wake me up.”

  Actually, I was kind of hungry too. I glanced down at my watch. Apparently I’d been asleep for two hours, and it was now six o’clock.

  “You should have woken me up sooner,” I said, shifting into a sitting position.

  “I’ve not been awake long myself. The stomach rumbling woke me up too.”

  As I looked down at him, I chuckled at the fact that he hadn’t moved yet, in spite of his hunger. If my stomach had made that sound, I’d have been headed for the nearest Pizza Hut in seconds.

  “Where do we eat around here?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I wondered if we could charm Mrs Kay into cooking for us.”

  “No chance. The ‘old bird’ might have a sense of humour but I reckon she’s strict with dining rules. And this is a bed and breakfast. No dinner included.”

  Logan groaned. “That means I have to get up and go out in the rain again.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” I mocked. I looked to the window, squinting to see through the ugly net curtain. “Looks like the rain has slowed a bit now.”

  There was a lot less thunder and lightning too. The rumbles sounded more distant. Technically, we could have waited it out and still arrived home at a sensible time; more sensible than if we’d stayed for the festival, but I wasn’t complaining. Even though we’d both slept for a couple of hours, and I’d expected to mourn the time we hadn’t spent talking, mostly I was happy we were so comfortable with each other. An early start, plus a change of plans, minus some clothes, plus a shopping trip would have equalled tiredness for a lot of people.

  “Ha ha.” Logan smiled as he sat up. “I saw a pub down the road when we came back earlier. Shall we give it a try?”

  The pub Logan had spotted was literally at the end of the road, and it looked as worn as the B&B we’d just left. It even smelled a little musty inside, though there were more than a few people in there, drinking. Some sat by the bar, some sat in booths around the edge of the room. The old jukebox in the corner pumped out dreary tracks from the sixties; not even the fun ones that created a good atmosphere. However, Logan’s stomach still sounded like a wounded cow, so we had no choice but to look over the menu instead of hunting elsewhere. We both ordered British pub classics – steak and chips for Logan, and pie and mash for me. With our orders placed and our first round of drinks in our hands, we slipped into one of the booths to wait for our meals.

  The Truth-Telling Stage aka And It All Comes Down To You

  In spite of the aged look of the pub, the food was particularly good, even if the music choices hadn’t improved much. Two hours after finishing our food, Logan and I remained in our booth, knocking back the bottles of beer we should have been drinking out in the open air.

  “All in all, it hasn’t been a bad day,” Logan said, placing his bottle on the table.

  “Were you expecting to have a bad day?” I asked. It wasn’t with the nervousness that had accompanied every other question that had the potential to break my heart, though. My confidence had soared with the alcohol. I was by no means drunk, or even close, but the beer had knocked the edge off any lingering doubts I had about whether Logan truly wanted me there.

  “No. But… I didn’t think it would be this good considering everything we were supposed to do got ruined.”

  I nodded. “It’s been fun.”

  My stomach was still hurting from it all – I expected rock hard abs after the amount of exercise they’d had from laughing.

  “And it’s not over yet,” Logan added. “You do realise I plan to drink you under the table?”

  With a cocky eyebrow raise, I said, “Good luck with that. I have Irish blood in me and we absorb alcohol like a sponge. You will be drunk way before me!”

  “We’ll see. Don’t forget I train for this most weekends!”

  “Rubbish! I have never once seen a drunken photo of you on social media. That means you are either really good at dodging cameras, or you never get drunk.”

  He held his hands up. “Okay. You got me. But I still reckon I can stay sober longer than you.”

  I raised my bottle and took another sip. “Good luck with that.”


  “Seriously though,” Logan said, his eyes fixing on mine and causing that familiar tingle to shoot up and down my spine. “Thanks for being so cool about everything. I’m glad we stayed, even if we did get a bit wet.”

  “A bit?” I choked. “That was more than a bit! But I agree. And thank you for putting up with me for the day.”

  I purposely lowered my gaze from his because I wasn’t quite ready to stare into his eyes just yet. Sounds silly when I’d wanted that for so long, but the tone of our conversation had changed, and I’m not immune to moments of insecurity. Probably never will be.

  “It’s been a pleasure. Especially that part when I made you scream in the shop.”

  The teasing grin on his face made my temperature rise, and I gave him a gentle kick under the table. “That was not my favourite part of the day!”

  “What was?”

  Lying beside you. Holding hands.

  I wasn’t ready to say that out loud either. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for that. How could I explain that my favourite part of the day didn’t exist. There wasn’t one moment, not really. It was all one long moment of epic that had given me the answers to the questions I’d had. The Logan I’d created in my mind was a real person, not one I’d fabricated. Of course, this didn’t help my feelings for him. It made them stronger, and I had a decision to make. Should I tell him? I had the handy help of booze to blame if it all went wrong…

  But I wasn’t drunk enough to pull it off. And I didn’t want to be drunk. If I was drunk, he probably would be too, and after all this time, if I was going to make a confession, I wanted it to mean something. I wanted it to be real.

  “I liked the part when Mrs Kay asked if we were married, and I momentarily thought she was serious.”

  Logan laughed. “You should have seen your face! But yeah, that was funny.”

  “I’m not sure I understand the concept of getting married so young,” I said, thoughtfully. “I think that was what surprised me the most – that she would think anyone would be tied down at our age.”

  Logan raised his eyebrows. “Tied down? I didn’t think you’d see marriage that way.”

  “I don’t. But young marriage is… brave, I guess.”

  “Wow. You’re not who I thought you were. Didn’t you used to spend hours of your time watching the older boys at school and hoping to bag one of them?”

  “Yes!” I laughed. I’d already confessed as much, there was no point in being embarrassed. “But I never said I wanted to marry them.”

  “Please,” Logan said. “Don’t tell me you’re not a romantic. You’re a girl!”

  I didn’t mind him pulling the “girl” card on me. His assessment wasn’t totally wrong. I listened to swoony music and imagined my wedding day occasionally, but the older I got, the more… maybe not cynical, but certainly careful, I’d become.

  “I’m sort of a cautious romantic. Yes, I grew up reading and watching fairy tales, so of course, I believe in the happy ending. I want the happy ending. But love is a weird thing. You fall in love with another person, and you basically hand over your heart and spend the rest of the time praying they don’t damage it. It takes a hell of a lot of trust to hand that over. If, or when, something goes wrong, you can’t repair that damage. Sure, the scars fade over time but they don’t leave. They stay, as an ugly reminder that you trusted the wrong person. And each one makes you more afraid to fall in love again, because how many times can you get it wrong before the scars don’t heal? Before you become too scared to try again?”

  Logan blew out a breath. “I wasn’t expecting to get this deep.”

  I raised my glass again. “It’s the alcohol. It makes me think.”

  He nodded. “I get what you’re saying and I agree. I’m just surprised you feel that way. I thought you’d be a ‘love conquers all’ and ‘you should never give up on finding love’ kind of person.”

  “I am, to an extent. But the whole concept does blow my mind and terrify me too. Giving someone so much of yourself is scary. I think it’s worth it, but it’s hard to let go and just… be okay with the fear.”

  Another thing I’d come to realise as Logan and I grew closer was that having someone in my life I could have fun with was more important than everything else my family expected of me when it came to settling down. I viewed those things as optional extras; lovely to have but not absolutely necessary to live a fulfilled life.

  Logan stared at me, his eyes soft as they met mine and this time I didn’t look away. “Who hurt you, Marnie?”

  His tone was gentle, and it washed over me, calming me enough to consider answering the question. I knew what he was asking; he wanted to know which of my very few boyfriends had made me hold back, but the truth was so much deeper.

  “Me,” I said, eventually, my voice shaking. Logan’s eyebrows pulled together, and I licked my lips to moisten them since they’d suddenly become dry as I realised how honest I’d been, and where my words were taking me. A place that certainly isn’t cautious.

  “What do you mean?”

  When he reached for my hand, every place our flesh touched burned, but it brought a fresh wave of fear and I pulled back. Because the guy in front of me was a friend. He was concerned for me like a friend. And even if it was more, there was so much at stake. Too much to lose if it all went wrong. I’d gotten close to him like I’d wanted, but in some ways, that had made things a hell of a lot scarier than when I’d been looking at him through rose-tinted glasses. Now the glasses were off, everything was still rose-coloured, and I had nothing to protect me. No doubts that I was wrong about him.

  I shook my head. “It’s nothing. Can you give me a minute?”

  Without waiting for a reply, I stood up and speed-walked across the pub, inexplicable tears filling my eyes as I pushed through the doors and out onto the street. The rain continued to fall, matching my tears, and I wiped them away, trying to get a hold of myself as cars whizzed past me, kicking up the water from the gutter and getting me wetter.

  What just happened? A perfectly reasonable conversation had turned into me making a melodramatic exit. Way to ruin a great day by being a total and utter girl.

  I couldn’t help it, though. Being so close to Logan yet not quite having the nerve to try to get closer triggered my emotions, my memories. The sheer length of time I’d known him and wanted him overwhelmed me.

  “Marnie.”

  The sound of his voice made me shiver – although I’m sure the cold rain had something to do with it too. I turned as he approached me, wrapping my arms around myself as he got closer.

  “Marnie? What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

  Cringe.

  “No. God, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” I trailed off, unsure how to explain.

  He placed his hands on the tops of my arms and I raised my head to meet his eye. “Marnie, what…? Why did you walk out?”

  “Please, Logan. I just need a second.”

  “You’re getting soaked again, though.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I allowed him to lead me away from the pavement and back towards the shelter of the pub. The awning hanging over the beer garden provided us a little respite from the rain, although we were both drenched once again.

  Shit. Why did I make such a big deal out of this?

  Logan’s arm dropped from my shoulders and he turned me to face him again. “I’m really sorry if I said something stupid.”

  I shook my head again. “You didn’t. I did.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I almost did.”

  “Why did you stop yourself?”

  I laughed. “Because saying that requires more bravery than I have.”

  Logan’s hand slid from my shoulder up to my cheek, brushing away my tears and raindrops with the pad of his thumb. The move made my stomach tighten. It was a far more intimate movement than I’d expected or was used to from him. He took a small step closer to me, not close enough for our bodies to to
uch, but close enough that he could probably hear my heart beat. It was loud enough to drown out the sound of the cars, the rain, and the faint music from inside the pub.

  “Let’s pretend you are brave,” he said. “What would you say?”

  This was it. My chance. My moment. With his brown eyes gazing into mine, I took a deep breath and said, “If I was brave, I’d say that today was the best day ever. That I’ve waited since I was a dorky twelve-year-old to spend this much time with you. That I’ve thought about you almost every day since I’ve known you, and over the past year, you’re the first thing I think of when I wake up. I’d tell you that if we spend too much time not speaking, I doubt everything. I worry that you never really liked me, and you just… I don’t know… felt sorry for the girl who so obviously has a thing for you.” I paused to wipe away a fresh wave of tears. “I’d tell you that I’m scared we’ll go home tomorrow and I won’t see you for months, and I’ll let myself forget how amazing today has been. And I know it wasn’t perfect, but it kind of was because we’re both here together, and that’s something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. It all comes down to you, Logan. Every time.”

  Logan closed his eyes, blowing out a slow breath, and a huge shuddering sigh pushed past my lips. I’d ruined it.

  I pushed his hand away, but as it fell from my cheek, he used it to take a hold of my waist. “If you were brave,” he said, softly.

  “Right. But I’m not. I’m stupid. And I’m sorry.”

  I attempted to push him away again but Logan pulled me closer, and this time our bodies did touch. Our wet clothes seeped into each other, and I stared at him, confused. Why hadn’t he said those words I’d expected to hear every time I’d imagined telling him how I felt? “Marnie, you’re a really nice girl, and I love having you as a friend, but...” Those were the words I’d tried to run away from, because they had to be coming, didn’t they? Only in movies does the guy say what you truly want to hear.

  “Marnie. Do you think I invited you out today because I have no other friends? Or that I suggested staying over because I couldn’t be bothered to drive home again? I wanted you to come with me, and I didn’t want to go home because if we had I wouldn’t have had the chance to spend the day with you.”