He reached down for her, ready to envelop her in his arms. Immediately, Peyton tried to step around him but couldn't quite make it before he hooked onto her arms and pulled her so her lips nearly clashed with his. She managed to jerk away from him just in time so they skimmed the top of her head.
"Okay, girlie," Brandon said, tightening his grip on her. "Maybe Logan likes it when a girl struggles but I sure as hell don't. So quit squirming. Logan said this was okay. Logan said it was fine. Why do you think he left? He's been gone for an unusual amount of time, don't you think? He knows. He knows what's going on with this and he's okay with it."
"You're not trying to kiss Logan," Peyton managed to get out. "You're trying to kiss me and I am most definitely not okay with it."
He reached for her again but Peyton put up her arms and brought her knee up, managing to knee him between his legs. He clutched his crotch and took a moment to steady himself, muttering nasty expletives in her direction. Peyton couldn't hear him though, her entire body was trembling and her ears echoed with the sound of rushing water. Logan had set her up? That didn't sound like him. As much as he frustrated her and he made questionable decisions, she highly doubted he would bring her here so his brother could attempt to have his way with her. Not when he was so adamant about consent.
But why would Brandon lie? And where was Logan? What was taking him so long in the restroom? Maybe he brought her here for Brandon - but that didn't make sense after what had transpired in the cell. Logan was kissing her, really kissing her. His body had reacted to her. He desired her! It made no sense for him to have brought her here and for them to do that only for Logan to pawn her off to his brother. Besides the fact that it was gross and relatively juvenile for a guy like Logan, it didn't seem to fall into line with his character.
Then again, she barely knew him.
Who knew what really went on in his head?
"What the fuck is going on here?" Logan asked, wrinkling his brow and looking between Peyton and Brandon. His eyes finally rested on Peyton and he waited to hear from her, as though he trusted her answer more than his brother's. Which was something else that was odd but not something she wanted to think about too much.
"Nothing," Brandon said. "Just waiting for you to come back so I can close everything down." There was a cutting edge to his tone, an edge that shouldn't really be there if they were as chummy as Brandon made them out to be. Peyton could be hearing things, but the tone sounded competitive and even slightly bitter.
Maybe it was a sibling thing.
Logan looked at Peyton, waiting for some kind of confirmation. She refused to look at Brandon. Instead, she clenched her jaw and nodded her head once, wanting nothing more than just to leave and be alone and get away. Her breathing was somewhat ragged after struggling with Brandon but she tried to hold it inside so Logan wouldn't realize something was amiss. Somehow, Logan didn't look like he fully believed her but he nodded in response. They had an entire conversation with gestures and eye contact and Peyton hated it. She hated the feelings she had, the utter pit of disappointment that sank deep within her stomach and sucked at her life force.
"Let's go, then," Logan said, nodding his head to his car. He looked at his brother, not bothering to hide his suspicion, but finally nodded, not saying a word to him.
Peyton let out a sigh of relief and all but dashed to his side, making sure not to touch him. She walked briskly to his car and opened the passenger seat without saying a word. He followed and got in after she was already buckled in and her forehead was resting on the cool glass of the window.
He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Brandon still stood there, watching. She made sure to ignore him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching him as they left.
"What the fuck was that about?" Logan's voice was low but not mean or demanding. If Peyton had to put a word to his tone, she would say he was curious. And maybe even a little bit concerned.
"What do you mean?" Peyton asked. She didn't look at him, didn't even move her head from the window.
"Don't play dumb with me, sweetheart," he said. "It's not a good look on you."
Peyton pressed her lips together, still staring out the window. She didn't want to get into this now, not when she was still processing what happened and trying to figure out just what was whose fault and who was wrong. She could feel his eyes on her profile, burning a hole in her skin, and she knew he expected some kind of answer because the way he penetrated her flesh was both demanding and impatient.
"I don't want to talk about it," she told him, throwing a glance over her shoulder so she could lock eyes with him. It was an honest answer, vague but also to the point. She didn't think she needed to explain it further but the wrinkle in his brow told her otherwise. He all but growled as he pulled over the car to the side of the road and put it into park, leaving the engine running so the heat would stay on for her benefit. Because he knew, without her having to say anything, that she was cold.
"What happened?" he asked again, this time ensuring his voice wasn't rough or aggressive. It was difficult for him; she could tell by the restraint in his voice, but the effort was there, which meant he was trying. And that had to count for something. "If you don't want to be with me, I can fucking respect that. I'm not some boy who's going to get fucking upset that you don't want to be with him."
"Be with you?" Peyton asked, thrown by his question. She quirked a brow and shot him a look. "You don't like relationships. You don't want to commit to anyone. You just want to sleep around with whoever your TA is. Next quarter, it'll be someone - or someones - else. You'll get over me with a snap of your fingers." She snapped to emphasize her point. "I can't be with someone like that. I don't just want to sleep around. I want to be in a committed, monogamous relationship with someone. And I know that isn't you."
Logan's eyes were dark but Peyton couldn't decipher the meaning behind it. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, if that was a good thing or not, but he looked angry. She wasn't sure why, considering she had told him the truth and that was what he wanted from her in the first place.
"Who the fuck told you that?" he asked. "You've never asked what I wanted and yet, you're sitting here, telling me what I want and who I want it with. Have you ever thought that maybe you should fucking ask me what I want instead of listening to people who have their own agenda? You claim you want to be in a relationship yet you can't grasp the most simple fucking concept that has to work for any relationship to succeed and that's communication. So don't preach like you know everything there fucking is to know about relationships when you don't know shit."
"Oh, and you do?" Peyton challenged, an aggressive gleam in her eye. "You know all about relationships, right? You're scared of them. You don't even want to be in one. You like sleeping with twenty-something TA's because there's a good chance they don't want commitment either. Not only are you intimidating but you're dangerous and bad and that's fun for a while but not fun long term. You aren't the one they'll bring home to meet their mothers."
"Maybe I don't want to fucking meet their mothers," Logan said through gritted teeth. "Maybe I don't want to commit to these girls who so easily spread their legs for an older professor. I'm just something they can cross off their bucket list. I'm just a boost in their precarious confidence because they can't seem to find it within themselves."
Peyton's mouth dropped open. "You think you're doing them a favor?" she asked, completely flabbergasted at his words.
"It's a mutually beneficial relationship," Logan pointed out, his tone defensive. Peyton pressed her lips together. Perhaps she shouldn't come across so judgmental but it was hard not to be surprised by his justification of his resistance to relationships and monogamy. "We both get what we want out of it and then we leave. No one gets hurt."
"Tell that to your TA who kissed you," Peyton snarled. She had no idea why she was getting so defensive of a girl she didn't know but she was. Perh
aps she was projecting herself onto this idea of a girl who had feelings for Logan and was so callously removed from his life because she wore her heart on her sleeve. "She genuinely liked you and you got rid of her because you didn't want to admit that maybe people aren't as hollow as you are. She cared about you. She broke your rules and you got rid of her."
"What's your point?" Logan asked through a growl. From the corner of her eye, she could see Logan's grip on the gear shift tighten, his knuckles turning white against the dark interior.
"I broke your rules, too," she said. "I kissed you. Multiple times. I care about you. Despite my better judgments, I'm fucking attracted to you and I actually like you. I think you're a good person even though you're the biggest asshole on the planet." She searched his eyes. They dimmed to a burnt gold rather than a dancing, fierce flame. Without warning, rain began to fall on the car, at first, coming down in small drops before getting harder and heavier. "Why haven't you gotten rid of me? What makes me different? Is it because I'm your only TA this quarter? Is that it?"
Logan continued to stare at Peyton, his lips a tiny straight line, his eyes hard and amber.
"What?" Peyton asked, wrinkling her brow. Her body was already twisted to face him and she bent her knee and rested her ankle by her crotch so it stretched out on the seat. "You always have something to say. Say something."
"What the fuck do you want me to say?" he asked.
Peyton stopped, letting his words sink in. Her heart slowed to a piercing blow with each passing beat and she stared at him, pensive and maybe even disappointed. She knew what she wanted him to say. She knew what she needed to hear him say. But he wasn't going to lie to her. He wasn't going to tell her what she wanted to hear. He wasn't that guy. And that was why she liked him. Because he didn't bullshit under any circumstances. She just wished maybe he would make an exception.
"Nothing." She sat back. "Nothing." She shook her head. "You've said enough."
"And what the fuck does that mean?" he growled.
"I just want to know why," Peyton said, ignoring Logan's question. "Why treat me different if the ending is the same? Why take me here? Why grab me from the party? Why care if you don't? Why get involved?"
"Because you are different," he said as though it was obvious, as though she was stupid for not figuring it out herself. "How do you not understand this? You're fucking different."
Peyton pressed her lips together to keep the retort dancing on her lips, wanting to shoot out and slap him across the face. She couldn't help the scoff from getting out though and she didn't hide the look of annoyed disbelief on her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she shifted in her seat to bring her stretched leg into a bend, her foot still next to her crotch, so she could rest her head on her knee. She was starting to get tired and with the rain coming down, she wanted to be curled in bed, under the covers, trying to forget everything about this night.
"You don't believe me?" he growled, somewhat surprised that she didn't. She picked up her head to look at him, staring him down with a challenge. He wrinkled his brow and leaned towards her. "You think I fucking treat anyone the way I treat you? You think I go to stupid fucking frat parties and bring women to my fucking place so they can sleep off their hangovers? You think I fucking talk to my brother or ask him for a goddamn favor?"
"It's not a favor if you pay him back," she retorted under her breath, rolling her eyes.
"I don’t need your fucking sass right now," he snapped.
"Yeah, well if you didn't want to be with me, if you were going to toss me around like I'm nothing, you should have told me up front," she told him. She didn't know why her voice was shrill. It was as though she was yelling over the rain and it didn't quite work. "I don't just kiss anybody, Logan. And yeah, maybe a kiss is just a kiss. And maybe I kissed you that first time to catch you off-guard but everything is different now because - because I like kissing you. Jesus, I like kissing you. And I thought..." She shook her head. "I'm so fucking stupid."
"You were the one who pulled away," Logan pointed out, his eyes a golden flame, a light at the end of a dark tunnel. She didn't know if she should follow it or avoid it but, at the moment, she couldn't look away from it. "You were the one who barely even looked at me after we stopped."
"We stopped because your brother walked in on us," Peyton said, her voice tight and defensive. "Or was that part of the plan?"
Logan narrowed his eyes and was silent for a long moment. His eyes never left hers but he was searching for something in her irises, something she didn't know and wasn't sure she wanted to give him. From the corner of her eye, she watched as his jaw ticked with pressure like a wall clock.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He made sure to enunciate every word slowly but she had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with her being stupid. Rather, he wanted to ensure he was in control of himself. Judging by the way his grip tightened on the gear shift - so tight that his knuckles were white - that he was having a difficult time doing so.
Peyton snorted, shaking her head and cutting her eyes so they looked out her window rather than at him. "Don't pretend like you don't know," she said, a sardonic smile on her face that lacked all the mirth it should have possessed.
"Do you think if I knew," he said slowly, and Peyton could tell he was trying desperately to control himself, "I would fucking ask you? Tell me what you're talking about." And then, in a gentle voice so soft Peyton wasn't sure she actually heard it or if she imagined it, he said, "Please."
It was like he knew the word worked on her but he only employed it when he was desperate. And right now, he was desperate. She slowly turned her head so she could meet his eyes. In that one glance, she could see past the frustration and anger and annoyance to the vulnerable Logan Jeffrey he probably didn't even realize he was revealing. Or maybe he did. Maybe he allowed her to see this side of him because he wanted to know what happened that badly that he was willing to actually show her a - not softer side, exactly - more subtle side of him.
"I don't know what you're fucking talking about," he continued when he recognized he might actually have a chance to hear what she had to say. His eyes got a hopeful gleam in them upon that realization, and that hope was what did her in. Because Logan employed rationality more so than hope. In fact, Peyton didn't think Logan saw hope as more than faith marketing. Useless and unable to get what he wanted.
She believed him, she realized.
Peyton blinked and took in a breath. If Logan had no idea what she was talking about, then that meant Brandon was a goddamn liar and attacked her under the pretense that Logan was okay with it. Without warning, tears sprang into her eyes and she started crying. It happened so fast, Peyton had no control over her actions. She thought she saw Logan flinch at her sudden shift in demeanor and she couldn't help but understand why that was. She had been angry and dismissive of him and now she was crying. That sounded pretty crazy, she wasn't going to lie.
"Sweetheart?" he asked tentatively.
Peyton was actually surprised he had enough restraint to stay there and take her tears, take her sudden attitude shift, without making a smartass retort, without telling her to stop, without getting away from her as quickly as he could. He didn't touch her, not yet, and that was okay. Peyton didn't know if she wanted to be touched. But he stayed there, his eyes on her, wide and confused, like a deer caught in headlights, like he had never dealt with a crying woman before and wasn't sure how to respond. She could take that as a compliment, she supposed. She was positive his other women hadn't cried in front of him before. She doubted he would have put up with that. But he was still here, waiting for some kind of lifeline she could give him, waiting for her to tell him what to do because he had no idea.
But he wanted to help. And that meant something.
Peyton swallowed, rubbing her tears with the back of her hands.
"Your brother tried to feel me up at the jail after you left," she murmured. She made sure to
look at him. She thought it was important that he knew the truth about Brandon if he didn't already. And she forced herself to do it because she didn't want to be afraid to speak the truth or ashamed for something she didn't do.
Logan clenched his jaw and blinked once. "What?" His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes cracked bronze.
"He said you pass women between the two of you," she continued. Her voice was tight, trying to control the mouse in her head trying to make its way to her mouth. "And that you brought me here because you were over me and decided it was his turn."
Logan's eyes narrowed. He clenched his jaw so tightly she didn't know how it didn't come off its hinges. Without warning, he turned his attention back to the wheel and put the gear back in drive.
"Tell me everything," he commanded as he spun the car back to the main road. Peyton's heart leaped in her throat, afraid he was going to lose his grip and the car would spin out of control on the slick streets. However, his tone left no room for argument.
"I told you," she said, righting herself and praying they returned to her dorm room safely. She had never seen Logan so out of control before and it scared her because now he was acting recklessly. And she couldn't understand why. "He told me that stuff and then tried to kiss me. I told him I wasn't into it. He tried again and I kneed him in the crotch."
The corner of Logan's lips turned up but it lasted less than a moment. He glanced at her for a moment and she saw the pride glimmer in his eyes like a lone candle dancing in the dark to a breeze.
"Why didn't you fucking tell me when I asked?" Logan asked. He twisted his hand on the wheel, his knuckles white. "You weren't going to tell me at all." He pulled into a parking stall a few feet away from the entrance of student housing and looked at her, waiting for an answer. "Did you believe him?"
The question lingered between them like tension clinging to their shoulders the way gargoyles clung to the edge of a roof, deciding whether or not they should stay as stone or if they should break from their prison and fly.
A Reputation Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 2) Page 14
