by Loren, Celia
"I'm OK. Keep going," I beg. He obeys, slowly continuing his onslaught. His fingers move back to my clit, and I moan at the dual sensation. As he reaches his depth inside me, I realize the pain I felt is gone, partly due to the deft work of his fingers. "Oh, that feels so good," I murmur, and he withdraws, thrusting back in more quickly. I moan, feeling his length hit against every inch inside me.
I feel him snake his lower arm around my waist, holding me more firmly against him as he pulls back and drives in harder. He picks up the pace, finding his rhythm with every new thrust. My eyes lose focus and my body relaxes completely against him except for my feet, as I try to gain some traction on the bedspread to give him more pressure to work against. My head falls back and into the hollow between his head and his shoulder. He slides his tongue into my ear and I gasp. The orgasm takes me by surprise, ripping through me as I buck against him. He has to hold me firmly in place as I lose control over my body. As I begin to come down, I feel a warmth inside me as he comes, grunting against my ear as his hand digs into my hip.
"Oh, fuck," he murmurs as he quiets, his other hand still between my legs. His other hand moves up to my neck, slowly tracing his fingers over my clavicle. I could lie like this forever, but I feel him shift behind me, and he reaches down to hold the condom on as he pulls out of me.
He rolls off the bed and I hear him in the bathroom. He returns in a moment and curls back around me and I press back against him.
"I've never come from sex," I murmur offhandedly. Probably not something I'd say if I were fully cognizant, but that orgasm has got my brain swimming.
"No?" he replies, running his lips over the back of my shoulder.
"No. Jake – the guy I dated my junior year – it was his first time, too. Not that it's all on him…"
I feel him grin against me. "Well, I don't know. Judging by your performance now, it might have been him." I turn over and wrap my leg around his waist and my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his closely cropped blonde hair.
"Since I'm already naked in your bed and there's no need to flatter me, I accept your compliment," I reply with a smile.
We both freeze at the sound of footsteps upstairs and the sound of our parents' voices passing by the basement door. Austen groans and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him with his fingers spread wide across my bare back.
"Where do they think you are?"
"Out with Maya," I murmur.
"Do you feel guilty, lying?"
I pause for a moment to consider. "Honestly, no. Sometimes my mom…I don't know, I just like having something that's just mine. That's my secret. Well, Maya knows," I confess. "I had to tell her, otherwise she might have let something slip." I sigh. "Speaking of, I should get going. It would seem weird if I stayed out too late when I was supposedly just hanging out with her."
"OK," he says, leaning in to give me a quick kiss, then turning over and rolling off the bed. I head the other direction, and he pulls on his boxers and then helps me find my clothes that have been strewn about. After I put everything back on and then finally slip on my sandals, I head for the door to the back steps.
"Come down tomorrow night?" he asks as I open the door. I nod and smile, and then slip out up the steps and into the backyard. I walk through the slightly dewy grass, keeping well away from the lights of the house shining down onto the ground. When I reach the front curb, I run my hands through my hair and across my clothes, then head up the front walk as though Maya has just dropped me off.
I open the front door and pause, then shut it behind me. The lights are on down here, but I don't hear anyone. I head up the stairs and look toward my mom and Duke's room. The door is slightly ajar and the light is on.
"Mom, I'm home!" I call down the hall.
"Oh, hi, honey! OK!" she calls back. I wait to see if she'll say anything else, but she doesn't. That was easy. I shrug and head for the bathroom door. As I reach for the handle, it opens suddenly.
Logan stands shirtless in the doorway with a towel around his waist, a lock of his wet hair hanging down on his forehead. He seems as surprised to see me as I am to see him.
"Hey. Sorry. Didn't realize you were home," he murmurs.
"Me either. I mean…" I trail off and we both shift our weight to try to bypass each other, unsure of which way the other is going. I finally stop and twirl a strand of my hair with my index finger.
"Have fun with Maya?" he asks, clearing his throat.
"Um, yeah. Just hung out at her house," I lie. I feel a knot of guilt form in my stomach. Why do I feel guilty about lying to Logan when I don't feel guilty lying to my mom? "You?"
"Just hanging out at my buddy's, too." His eyes move up from mine and I frown, wondering what he's looking at. He reaches forward and runs his thumb across my temple. As he removes it, I see it's glistening slightly. "You're sweating," he murmurs.
"I…" I trail off, distracted by the feel of his skin on mine and unable to come up with a lie. "I was hot. Just took my sweatshirt off. Left it downstairs."
He nods, rubbing his thumb against his forefinger. "Well, I'm all done in here." He slips quickly by me and I allow my gaze to follow him, admiring the back of his wide shoulders and the two small divots in his lower back just above the top of his towel.
I shake my head at myself as I step inside the bathroom and close the door behind me. The mirror is still steamed up from Logan's shower. I reach my hand forward and rub the fog away with my fingers, leaving a small circle where I can see my face. I look slightly flushed, and the line of my hair is damp with sweat, as Logan observed.
I begin to strip off my clothes. I feel like I need a cold shower, even though I just had the best sex I've ever had. Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?
Chapter Thirteen
I slowly turn the pages of the admissions packet that I just got from the Dean's Office of the University of Denver. I let my fingers rest on the chart with the GPA and standardized test scores of their typical incoming students. I'm surprised to see I'm toward the high end of the average.
I never seriously considered going to college. I'd always hung out at my mom's salon, her boss and coworkers treated me like part of the family, and so it made sense that I would go to cosmetology school and end up working there. It was a foregone conclusion. But am I doing it because I want to, or because my mom wants me to?
I sigh and close the packet, then stand and walk across the quad. The students are mostly on break, but a few summer students lie reading on towels spread over the grass, soaking up the late afternoon sun. I feel a little thrill as I surreptitiously watch them. It's actually really easy to picture myself here…but what would my mom think?
No, that's not the point, I remind myself. I'm here to see if I want to go here. That's it.
I frown. Part of me wishes I had never considered this route. It would be a lot easier to just go to cosmetology school and then work with my mom. I wouldn't upset anyone. It would feel comfortable. Stupid Logan. It's really his fault that I'm here, considering any of this. I wish he hadn't opened his big mouth.
I head back toward the parking lot and my car. The steering wheel is hot and I roll down the windows to cool off as I drive toward the street. I don't even know what I'd major in. I'd have student loans. There would be so many unknowns. I don't like unknowns.
I peer both ways down the street as I pull up to a stoplight. Shit. This doesn't look familiar. The campus is just south of Denver, but now it looks like I'm headed toward the city center, rather than back south to Thurmont. I gnaw on the side of my lip as I try to catch a glimpse of the next street sign. Forget it. I'm a lost cause when it comes to directions. I pull over to the side of the road and take out my phone to map a route.
I quickly type in Duke's address and put the phone on my dashboard so I can hear the automated directions. I glance up to check my rearview mirror before pulling back out and catch a glimpse of a handsome guy in it. Wait, Logan? I do a double-take and then turn around
in my seat. He's walking down the sidewalk toward my car. What the hell is he doing here?
I undo my seatbelt and hop out and walk quickly around to the sidewalk. He's got earphones in and his head is bowed, so I wait in his path until he notices me. As he reaches me, I see him frown down at my shadow on the cement, and then glance up to see who's blocking his way. His look of shock is priceless. He yanks out one of his earbuds.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
"What are you doing here?" I retort. "I thought you had the day off from training," I add, regarding his sweat-drenched appearance.
"And I thought you were hanging out with Maya," he replies, crossing his arms, too. We face each other in a standoff until my lips finally crack into a smile.
"I'll tell if you do," I finally offer. He nods: deal. "Well, I…" I find myself struck shy suddenly, and search the ground with my eyes as though the words I want lie on the pavement. "I sort of looked at the University of Denver. You know, took a tour and stuff," I shrug, playing it off like it's no big deal. I look up to see how he took my confession, and am surprised by the joy in his eyes.
"That's amazing," he grins, and I find myself blushing.
"Your turn," I murmur. He runs his hand through his damp, curly hair, and pulls out his other earbud. Finally, he takes a deep breath.
"Alright, but this is just between you and me. No one else can know, seriously." I nod, taken aback by the vehemence in his words. He takes a deep breath. "OK, well, I'm training in Muay Thai up here," he says rapidly, the words spilling out of his mouth. "My dad doesn't know. There's a Brazilian master here, just moved from Sao Paolo to be with his daughter, and I asked my dad to have him come train us at Team Apex, but my dad refused. Said he knew enough and didn't need him. But I want to be the best, and I don't think my dad…he's not taking me seriously. So I had to look elsewhere."
He stops just as quickly as he started, and there's a silence, broken only by the cars going by on the street. He searches my face for understanding, and I get the sense he's been wanting to share his secret with someone for a while. And it's not like I didn't know there was tension between him and Duke, though this situation seems more like a symptom than the cause.
"Is that why you've been holding back at practice?" I ask, and he frowns. "Sorry, I heard you and Raul talking at the barbecue."
"Oh. Yes. My body wants to use the new techniques I'm learning, but I can't let myself because then my dad and everyone else will know I've been training outside the team."
"Well, I won't tell," I say simply. "And you'll keep my secret, too?" He nods. "Why, though?"
"Why what?"
"Why doesn't Duke take you seriously?" I ask, wanting to know what's really underneath their strained relationship.
He sighs, then looks around. "You have to get back right away?" I shake my head no. "Then come on, I know a place right around the corner that serves a killer burger, and I'm starving."
Five minutes later, I'm sliding into a corner booth at a pub and peering down at the menu.
"So how was it?" Logan asks, putting his menu down.
"What?"
"Campus."
"It was…" I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "Well, beautiful, first of all. Nerve-wracking. Exciting…why are you smiling at me?"
"I just think it's great."
"I mean, I was just looking," I grumble. "And I don't even know what I'd major in."
"You'd figure it out."
"You sound very sure about the whole thing," I say rather accusatorily. He raises his eyebrows and I catch myself. "Sorry. God, I'm taking this out on you, aren't I? I feel like I've been living under a rock and I just realized it. Do you know what I mean? And now I'm sticking my head out, and I'm just…I'm scared. And angry…And just…" I throw up my hands.
"I do know what you mean," he replies, pinging the salt shaker back and forth across the table between his long fingers.
"I don't think my mom realizes that she's doing anything…that she's, well, being sort of controlling. Her life, our life, was just so unsteady and crazy with my dad around, so now she wants to know that I'm safe, and close."
"It's not malicious, it's just how she is," he fills in.
"Right," I agree, relieved that he gets it.
"Have you ever seen a picture of my mom?" he asks abruptly.
"No. I mean, there aren't any in the house, right?"
"I have a few in my room. My dad destroyed the rest. I look just like her, is my point. I think he sees her when he looks at me. For a while I thought it was me, but I don't think it is."
"That's why…well, why he treats Austen differently than you?"
He shrugs. "I think. Austen also grew a lot faster than me, and was way more talented at MMA at first. So I think my dad felt like he was right, you know? Like it proved something. I was scrawny, weak, like her. But then I had my late growth spurt, and I started considering that maybe I didn't deserve to play second fiddle. And then I got angry. I just decided however hard everyone else was working, I'd work twice that hard. And now…now I'm good. I'm really good. But I don't know if I'll ever get my shot as long as I'm under my dad's thumb."
"What's your mom's name?" I ask quietly, realizing I don't know.
"Fiona."
"Do you ever talk to her?"
"Now and then. My dad doesn't know about that, either," he adds pointedly. "She left him high and dry, and I know that. It's not like I think that was right, and I don't expect anything from her, either. But she apologized to me, and she's my mom," he says, a helpless feeling creeping into his voice.
"I get it. I don't know if I'd talk to my dad. I mean, I don't even know where he is right now. After he finally gave her a divorce he left town. I think maybe he's in San Francisco."
"He ever hit you?" he asks quietly.
"No," I snort. "He used to use that like a badge of honor. Like, everything else he'd done was somehow forgivable because he'd never hit his daughter. Bullshit."
"Well, obviously I don't think my dad's perfect, but I've never, even in his angriest moments, seen him even think about hitting a woman. Or me or Austen."
The bartender is almost on top of us before either of us notice he's there. Logan orders two burgers and I stick with just one. As the bartender fills our drink orders, I drum on the wooden table with my thumb.
"So, is that why you keep going with MMA? You want to prove you're better than Austen?"
His expression turns more serious than it's been the entire conversation. "No, not at all." He stops and reconsiders for a second. "Well, at first, yes, you're right. It was a fucking slog, those first years. I was smaller than everyone else, not just Austen, and all these new techniques are being thrown at you and you feel like you're shit at all of them. But then I started getting these flashes…" His hazel eyes take on a faraway look as he continues. "When I didn't have to think about the technique, everything else would just fall away and I'd know exactly what to do. When I'm just in this sweet spot. And it's like I'm more alive than I've ever been. And then I know this is what I'm meant to be doing. You know what I mean?"
"Yes," I breathe, stunned by his description. "Or, no. I mean, I've never felt that. But I want to."
"You will. You'll find it."
I break into a smile at his sincerity. "I don't know why I believe you, but I do."
I don't know what we talked about for the next couple of hours. The conversation flowed so easily from one thing to another, kicked off by a random association to a word and then looping back around and then away again. But by the time we're walking back out toward my car, the sun is sitting just over the horizon, sending an angry glare off my windshield.
"Where's your car?"
"Just one block south."
"I was a little lost before this, so maybe I'll follow you back to the highway and then hang back, stagger our arrival times." He nods, but looks distracted. "Logan? You OK?"
His head snaps up. "Yup. Highway. Got it."
"See you back at home," I say, reaching my hand into my purse to find my keys as I step toward the road.
"Cat?"
I turn around and find him stepping toward me. I feel one of his hands slide around my waist as the other cups my cheek. His lips find mine and all of a sudden I'm floating against him as our mouths press together. His lips are so soft…surprisingly so…softer even than Austen's…Austen!
I step back abruptly and bring my arms up to push his chest back. I see his gaze registering surprise and hurt as our eyes meet.
"I'm sorry, I thought—" he murmurs.
"No…it's—I…I'm seeing Austen," I mumble out just above a whisper. The change in his expression is abrupt. A coldness sets across his features and his lips rise in a smirk.
"Of course you are," he says, then shakes his head as he turns around and starts to walk away. "See you back at the house!" he calls back, almost nonchalantly.
"Logan! Should we…" But he's headed resolutely away. I realize I still have my keys in my hand and head around to the driver's side of my car, fumbling with them to open my door. I take a deep breath as I slide behind the wheel and start the engine.
I want to believe that our relationship didn't just completely change, but I saw the coldness in his expression. Now I'm just something else that his older brother got to first.
Chapter Fourteen
When we get closer to our neighborhood, I fall back. I’ve been following Logan home, staring at the back of his head as he drives in front of me on the highway. Now that I know where I am, I turn left as he continues home. I don’t want to arrive back at the house too close to him, both so as not to arouse suspicion and so that we won’t be alone when we pull into the garage and walk up to our respective bedrooms.
I drive aimlessly through the residential streets. My skin feels like it’s on fire. That kiss, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds long, was something else. My body reacted so immediately to his, all of my nerves endings lighting up at once.
