Perfectly Damaged

by E. L. Montes

I hold back a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that.” God, he’s so damn good-looking.

  I tear my stare away, my eyes focusing on a small photo hanging from the rearview mirror. I didn’t see it before. Then again, I wasn’t really paying attention. I reach out and grab it, leaning in to have a better look. It’s a picture of a younger Logan with his arms posed wide open and a big goofball grin on his face. I can tell it’s him. He looks slimmer and shorter, but it’s definitely him with those same vibrant blue eyes. Beside him, posing the exact same way, is a guy a bit taller and more muscular than Logan. The unknown guy is wearing a Phillies baseball cap—an exact replica of Logan’s. “Who’s that?” I ask, pointing at the guy in the picture.

  “That’s my brother, Sean, wearing his favorite stupid hat.” My stomach sinks. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I feel like an ass. Pushing down my fear of making a fool out of myself, I look back at Logan. His smile is still there, just a bit wider. Reaching up, he tugs the rim of the cap. “Which is now my favorite,” he adds.

  “I…um…shit…” I shut my eyes, breathe in and out, then flash them open. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

  Logan chuckles, a low rumble deep within his chest. “It’s fine. Seriously. I didn’t get offended. Most people would, but I’m not like most people.”

  “No. You’re certainly not.” I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the humiliation of the moment. “If it were me, I’d probably punch you in the face.”

  He laughs again. “I kind of get the feeling you’re not kidding.”

  “No. Not when it comes to something personal like that. To others it may seem like it’s just an item, nothing special, but it’s a keepsake for you. You know?” He nods. “I had a bracelet Brooke had given me as a graduation gift. I lost it the night you found me in the pool.”

  “Is that what you were freaking out about?”

  “Yes. It’s something I never left home without, and losing it was like losing a piece of her.”

  Logan’s forehead creases in confusion. “Wait. Was it some type of gold charm bracelet or something like that?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “Santino found one by the pool when we were prepping on our first day. He gave it to your mother.”

  “What?” My hands grip the dashboard so hard my knuckles turn white.

  Logan looks nervous—or scared. I have no idea how I look right now, but I’m sure I look like I’m about to beat someone with a bat. “Yeah, your mother thanked Santino for bringing it to her and took off with it.”

  Red. All I see is red. I jump out of the truck and slam the car door.

  “Jenna?” Logan shouts out, but I keep going. My legs have a mind of their own. I have no idea how they’re moving, how they’re pushing, because my head is empty. Completely deserted. There are no thoughts whatsoever, just one image I keep seeing over and over again: my mother’s face.

  Trembling, I open the door and dart into the house. My chest is heaving, my heart beating wildly, but my mind is clear.

  Voices. Familiar voices from the office. I don’t hesitate. I move toward them, smoothly gliding across the marble foyer, yanking the knob, and pushing the door open. My mother jumps, turning to face the entryway I just barreled through. My father’s wary features shoot my way, studying me: my rigid posture, my hands opening and closing into tight fists at my side, my tense shoulders, and finally my bloodshot eyes, which are fixed and zooming in on her. The bitch.

  “Where is it?” I threaten more than ask.

  Mom seems startled by my approach. “Where is what, darling?”

  “Fuck off, Mother!”

  “Jenna!” Dad shouts.

  Ignoring him, I move toward her aggressively. She steps back, afraid of what I might do. “The bracelet. Give me my bracelet. It’s mine, not yours. Brooke gave it to me. Where is it?” I scream.

  She brings a hand to her chest. “This is ludicrous. You’re acting—”

  “Give. It. To. Me.”

  “Where is the bracelet, Laura?” Dad demands.

  Her appalled, open-mouthed, and wide-eyed expression leaves me and lands on him. “Do you think I would keep it from her on purpose? Gregory, I would never do such a thing—”

  “Do you or do you not have the bracelet, Laura?” he cuts in.

  Wetting her lips, she moves her head side-to-side, staring at me, then him, then me again. Without another word, she walks over to the large bookcase. Removing a small trinket box, she opens the lid and lifts my bracelet out. I don’t give her time to bring it to me. I stomp over, snatch it from her hand, and storm out of the office.

  I hate her more than ever.

  “I can’t believe your mother did that. I’m sorry, but that was a shit move on her end,” Charlie says, fanning a hand over her damp, heart-shaped face.

  I lean back against the lounge chair. The sun is brutally hot today, but I allow it to beam off my skin as I lie with my eyes shut. “Yep. She doesn’t matter anymore; I have my bracelet and, quite honestly, that’s all that matters,” I say, reaching for my right hand and allowing my fingers to smooth over the gold chain, now perfectly snugged around my wrist.

  Last night I could hear Mom and Dad arguing but couldn’t make out all of it. I did hear my name thrown in a few times, and on any other day I would have eavesdropped, but last night I didn’t bother. I had my bracelet and I was too upset with my mother to even want to hear what she had to say about me. I know one thing, I’m really glad Dad cancelled that spa appointment he had scheduled for Mom and me. I didn’t want to go initially, but after the bracelet fiasco, there wasn’t a chance in hell.

  “Yeah. Thank God,” she says. “What the hell? It’s hot as balls out. I’m taking a dip in the pool. Want to go in with me?”

  “Sure.” I lift onto my elbows. “It’s too hot to even sunbathe.”

  We stand, tread to the pool, and dip in, allowing the warm, refreshing water to swallow us up. Charlie swims to the corner at the shallow end of the pool, which has a built-in bench. Sitting down, she bends her head back on the edge and closes her eyes. I follow, making myself comfortable beside her, our seats in clear view of the Reed Construction guys working on the guesthouse.

  “What was the sigh for?” Charlie asks.

  “Huh? Did I sigh?”

  “Yep. A big ole dramatic one too.” Her eyes flash open. Staring straight ahead, it doesn’t take her long to realize the reason—or should I say the person—that prompted my sigh. “Logan looks good…”

  “I guess?” My eyes study him from this distance. The Phillies cap is on his head, white earphones are plugged into his ears, and his golden tan is glistening in the sun. “Mmmhmm. I see where your line of vision is. Do you see that male goodness from afar?” Charlie sits up and goes on dramatically, “Are you admiring those fine-tuned, muscular arms? That glorious, gleaming golden tan? The beads of sweat dripping ever so softly from his rock-hard body? The way the veins of his biceps pop out when he flexes? His rough-worn jeans hanging low on his sculpted hips, leaving you to imagine what’s waiting just a little bit lower? Ooooh, that was some descriptive shit right there. I should be a writer.”

  I roll my eyes. She is so over-the-top. But I must admit, she’s right. What is happening to me?

  Charlie fans herself, dipping her head back into the water. “Damn, I made myself hot with that scene. You know you were turned on. I can just see it now.” She spreads her arms wide. “Charlie Murphy, erotica novelist, making pussies twerk nationwide. RPD, bitches.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” I say, splashing water her way.

  Charlie shrugs. “Oops. Hottie coming our way.”

  I turn, and… Yep, Logan is heading toward us. Straightening my shoulders, I sit up, watching as he approaches.

  Logan reaches the edge of the pool, bends at the knees, and meets us at eye level. “Ladies,” he says with a smile.

  “Logan.” I match his grin.

  “Hottie McHotterson.” Charlie beams. />
  Logan squints his eyes at Charlie, uncertain as to how to handle her. I’m sure no one knows how to handle her. Then he looks at me. “Have you thought about it?”

  “Thought about what?” Charlie interjects.

  Logan answers, “Going out with me tonight. My shift is over in an hour and I figured I’d ask now so you can get ready. Or you can go in your bikini. Either way is good with me.”

  Charlie’s lips curl into a devious grin. “Ah, going out, huh? Yeah, she’s going.” I go to speak, but she lifts her hand, stopping me before I can start. “Go and get ready, Jenna. I’ll keep Logan occupied. So, Logan, let me tell you about this book I want to write.”

  “You write?” he asks, amused.

  “Yep. And I can come up with some pretty damn steamy scenes. I’m thinking of writing an erotic—”

  I grip her arm. “Yes, Logan. I’ll go out tonight. I’m going to start getting ready. Charlie, come help me find something to wear.”

  “Oh,” Charlie says, shocked that I’m actually asking for fashion feedback. But I’ll do anything to keep her from embarrassing herself. Who am I kidding? I’ll do anything to keep her from embarrassing me. “All right. See ya, Logan.” She winks at him.

  Logan smiles, and his eyes find mine. “Cool. See you in an hour.”

  I nod, twist my body beneath the water, and lift myself out of the pool. Turning, I bend down, yank on Charlie’s arm, and pull her out.

  We’re in my walk-in closet, and I’m seated in a chair with a towel wrapped around my chest. My hair’s dripping water down my back as I watch Charlie rummage through my closet. Her features vacillate between shock and distress regarding the news I just told her. “Wait a minute. The two of you went out? Why am I just hearing about this?” she asks, skimming through the hangers.

  “Because it happened out of left field. Besides, it was just a friendly get-together.”

  “You decided to mention Mommy Dearest stealing the bracelet, but you left out the fact that you were on a date with Mr. McHotterson?”

  “Not a date,” I huff.

  “Whatever. So where did you guys go?”

  I pick the skin at my lip as my eyes roam over my clothing. Though there’s plenty to choose from, I feel like I have nothing to wear, which is completely unlike me. Any other day I couldn’t care less about what to wear. But I keep shaking my head no to all of Charlie’s suggestions so far. “We went for ice cream, then the park.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her hand stops midstroke on a sundress, and she turns to face me.

  “What?” I ask, unsure of the reason behind her wrinkled nose.

  “Ice cream and the park?” I confirm with a nod. “What are you guys, like five?”

  Rolling my eyes, I shift in the seat and cross my legs. “Whatever. I think he was sweet and we had fun. I had an amazing time…” I trail off with a smile, thinking about last night. Logan was the perfect gentleman.

  “All right, then,” Charlie says, mockingly. “Well, I guess no dress for you, since he might surprise you and take your ass to BounceU.”

  Funny thing is, after witnessing Logan and how goofy he can be with just a set of monkey bars, I’m sure BounceU would be right up his alley. “There’d be nothing wrong with us acting like big kids, jumping around in inflatable bounce houses.”

  Charlie coughs out a laugh. It’s one of those incredulous laughs, one that lets me know she’s humoring me. She knows that is not my scene, but maybe it could be. With Logan it could be.

  “Wear this.” Both of her arms jut out, a pair of white skinny jeans dangling from one hand, and a teal strapless blouse from the other. “It’s cute, yet comfortable. What do you say?”

  “Okay. I can do that.” I stand, walk over, and grab them from her hands, dropping the towel and tossing the outfit on.

  “Do you want to wear heels, flats, or sandals?” Charlie asks, twirling to face my shoe collection.

  “Sneakers,” I say seriously.

  Charlie meets me with a pair of nude flats and hands them to me. “Nope. I will not allow you to look a hot mess on this date.”

  “It’s not a date.”

  “Whatever. Put on the shoes. I have to do your hair and makeup.”

  I’m on the front porch, leaning against the column as I wait for Jenna. Memories of the first time we met float forward from the back of my mind—especially that kiss, which happened to occur on this very porch. Dammit. She wants to keep things clean and friendly, but the thought of that kiss turns my thoughts to anything but. It’s going to be very fucking hard for me to control myself tonight. I’ll try to be good and respect her wishes, but I can’t make any promises.

  I hear rather than see the front door open. Leaning forward, I crane my neck and eye the double doors. Both Jenna and Charlie step out, and damn, Jenna looks…well, she looks fucking hot. Although I changed out of my dingy work clothes, I kind of wish I’d had time to go home, take a shower, and get completely ready. Whatever. Straightening, I shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. My heart staggers into a quick beat. What the fuck? I’m nervous. Why? It’s not like I’ve never seen a fucking chick before. Calm the hell down, Logan.

  Charlie’s small figure struts up before me. I have to look down to meet her eyes, as if I’m staring at a ten-year-old. With her arms crossed, she sizes me up, scrutinizing. Then she whips her head back to glare at me. “You better be good to my girl, or I’ll be making a few calls and you’ll have a Lorena Bobbitt case on your hands.” She shoots up a brow. “Or should I say…in your pants.”

  I wrinkle my brows. This chick is kidding, right?

  “Oh my God, Charlie.” Jenna stumbles forward, pushing Charlie with a swat of her hand. “Sorry about that, Logan. Shall we go?”

  “Um, sure.” I grab Jenna’s hand and step forward, walking side by side with her down the walkway. I can’t help but look back and sneak a peek at Charlie, who catches me. She gives me an aggressive two-finger eye point, making it clear that she’ll be keeping her eyes on me.

  “Your friend is very…” I trail off, trying to find the right words without offending Jenna.

  “Weird? Aggressive? Direct? Dramatic?” she finishes for me. “You can choose one, but I’m sure all of the above apply.”

  “Yeah. Definitely all of the above.”

  She laughs.

  We reach my truck. I, being the awesome gentleman I prepared myself to be, open the door and help Jenna into the passenger seat. She thanks me with a slight giggle after I give her a small bow and a knowing, lopsided grin. Then I jog around and slide into the driver seat. “I have something for you,” I say, reaching into the backseat and grabbing the gift. Jenna’s eyebrows slant with curiosity when I hand her a thin, square object wrapped in newspaper. She flips it around in her hand, wondering what it could be. “Sorry about the wrapping,” I say. “It was last-minute and I didn’t have any of that colorful wrapping crap. So I figured newspaper would do just the trick.”

  Jenna’s pink, glossy lips twitch into a smile. “What is it?” she asks.

  “Open it and find out.”

  Hesitantly, she runs her fingers over it, right above the headline regarding Philly’s City budget cuts. Licking her lips, she swipes a finger under a flap, beneath the clear Scotch tape, peeling off the rest of the paper and revealing the album. I take in the charm bracelet resting on her right wrist. She got it back. Yesterday she seemed pissed the hell off with the news regarding her mother having the bracelet this entire time.

  I want to ask about it, but then I remember how Jenna said talking about her mother is the equivalent of placing her in a dark hole, so I decide to not mention it—at least not right now. “It’s City of Sound’s Greatest Hits,” I say. “I figured since you like what you’ve heard so far, you’d probably like to hear more from them.”

  Jenna tilts her head my way. Her large and beautifully brown eyes gleam in the early evening light. I hope she likes it. Her pouty lips are not smiling, but she’s not frownin
g either. A vertical line creases between her brows. Her expression seems to be saying a million things, none of which I can decipher. While her eyes hold on to mine, she seems to be reaching deep, trying to read me, to figure me out or something. Finally, she brings a hand up, her fingers play with my stubble jaw, and then she leans in.

  Shit.

  She’s going to kiss me. I can feel it. I can sense it. I calm my breathing, waiting, hoping for her lips to touch my…

  Cheek.

  Yeah.

  Jenna’s lips, sticky from some kind of gloss, land on the left side of my cheek, just above my jawline. Pulling back, her face inches from mine, her lashes flicker as she meets my stare. Her thumb gently rubs over the kiss mark, removing the lip gloss from my face. “Thank you for the album, Logan. I love it.”

  Talk, dickhead.

  “Oh, no problem.” I breathe out, bringing my arm up to hang over the steering wheel, hoping it makes me seem smooth.

  Moron.

  Jenna settles back into her seat, clips on her seatbelt, and looks down at the album in her hand.

  “I hope you’re hungry because I’m taking you to the best mom and pop shop in Philly.”

  She looks up at me and smiles again. That smile alone is going to drive me insane tonight.

  Pattie’s is definitely not an upscale, fine restaurant, but if you want a good home cooked style meal, it’s definitely the best spot in town. Besides, it’s also close by the next place I want to take Jenna to, which I’m hoping she’ll like.

  I help Jenna out of my truck, slipping my hand into hers as we walk, and we keep it that way. She doesn’t pull away and neither do I. I like it. It just feels right. Hand in hand we step into the overly packed, rowdy, small restaurant. I lean down, my lips touching the curve of her ear. “Sorry, I didn’t expect for it to be crowded on a weeknight. But the food is great. I promise you’ll like it.”

  Jenna doesn’t say a word. Her eyes sweep over the small surroundings; she seems to be uncomfortable. Her body slightly shudders, and she leans into me, almost cowering as a way to keep close. Her fingers start working at her lip as fear slowly creeps into her eyes. Lifting my hand, I place my palm along her lower back, and twirl her around so her front is facing mine; I pull her toward me without resistance. In fact, her breathing seems to instantly calm, her shaking stops.