by Stella James
Trevor stands at the front counter, leaning against it. I can see him but he can’t see me. Jamal approaches him with a thick brown envelope, the two men bump fists and Trevor leaves. When Jamal heads back my way, I can’t help but ask.
“Hey, do you know that guy?” I ask casually.
“Uh, yeah, I rent this building from his boss,” he replies, his dark eyebrows drawn together.
“Zavier Kane?” I ask.
“How do you know Zavier Kane?” he asks, folding his arms across his broad chest.
“I don’t,” I shrug. “Brooke and I went to Delve the other night. I saw that guy there,” I nod to where Trevor was standing. He doesn’t say anything, just sits down next to me and lets out a breath.
“What?” I ask.
“Look, Zavier Kane is a collector Prairie,” he says. “He runs some shady shit and usually anyone who works for him owes him something. That’s how he keeps his crew honest. Stay away from his club and stay away from anyone on his payroll.”
If Zavier Kane is a collector, what does Logan owe him?
*
On my way home from the gym, the weight of Jamal’s warning sits heavily on my shoulders. I’m not naive and I’m not stupid, I know that Logan isn’t the same boy he was five years ago, just like I’m not the same girl. But I have to believe that whatever Logan is mixed up in, we’ll survive it this time. I can’t bear to think that we might not, especially when this feels like our second chance. I know that we have so much to sift through but with Logan it seems like the rules of logic are simply meant to be broken. There’s no room for second guessing and what-ifs when he’s near. My heart recognizes him and I think we owe it to ourselves to explore what this second chance could mean for us.
I’m about to promise myself that sooner or later Logan and I will have to discuss the hard things, regardless of the fear that we might lose what we have, when I look up and spot him standing beside a shiny black pickup parked along the curb outside of my building.
I take my time and allow myself to truly appreciate the man he’s grown into. His hair is still thick and dark and a bit unruly. The sharp line of his jaw is covered with thicker scruff than the seventeen year old boy I knew. He’s still muscular, but definitely larger and he still has that same troubled look on his handsome face, as if he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He turns his head and smiles when he sees me, pushing himself off the side of the truck and stepping towards me.
“Hey,” he says, his voice coarse.
“Hi. Have you been waiting long?”
“Nope, you’re just in time.”
“Just in time for what?” I ask with a grin.
“Come on,” he takes my hand and opens the passenger side door of his truck.
He helps me up and shuts the door, sliding into the driver’s seat as I buckle my seatbelt. I showered at the gym and threw my hair up, but I’m dressed casually and I’m hoping that won’t matter.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he tells me.
When he starts the engine and reaches for my hand, I ignore the nagging voice of reason in the back of my head that says we can’t possibly move forward with the abundance of untold truths lingering between us. I ignore the voice because I want to believe that we can, if only for a little while, be seventeen again.
Chapter 19
Logan
I was expecting Prairie to argue or at least try and figure out where I’m taking her, but when I told her it was a surprise she simply smiled and let me wrap my hand around hers. The weight of her hand in mine feels…right. There’s a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t be taking her anywhere, why I shouldn’t have been waiting outside of her building, counting the seconds until I could see her again. But I can’t recall a single one. When she turned the corner and I looked up, I forgot everything. Her curly hair is piled on top of her head and I can tell she’s not wearing any makeup. She’s wearing faded jeans and a snug white T-shirt. She looks like her, like the most beautiful thing in the world. Without even trying.
“I guess you managed to get that fancy truck you always wanted,” she smirks. “Although, I actually miss the old one. It was cozy.”
“We’re lucky the damn floor didn’t fall out underneath our feet going over those gravel roads,” I snort. “That thing belonged in a junkyard.”
“I guess I never noticed much. I was too busy being happy.”
Her words sting, but I know she doesn’t mean them to. They’re innocent and honest, just like her.
“Have you talked to Gary at all over the years? Or any of the guys from the shop?” she asks, fiddling with the radio stations until she finds the country station.
“No, I haven’t.”
Another thing I feel like shit over is how I treated my old boss after my arrest. He tried to see me and even testified on my behalf. Told the court I was a good kid and didn’t deserve time in prison. But I was so full of shame that I couldn’t even look him in the eye, let alone offer him a thank you. Just another thing that I managed to fuck up, I suppose.
“I haven’t been back since I left for college, my mom moved down to Edison when I left so I’ve had no reason to go back,” she continues.
She tells me about her mom remarrying and about her stepdad. I already know she works at a bank downtown but I’m surprised that she never finished college and got her degree. She was so determined when we were younger.
“It just wasn’t for me,” she shrugs. “I like Fortune. I like my job and it pays the bills…so, I figure I might as well stay put where I am.”
She keeps the conversation away from Brenda and Brad and even if she didn’t, I’d have nothing to tell her. I have no idea where my mother is or that piece of shit husband of hers. I haven’t seen her since she took the stand and lied through her stained teeth. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist to me anymore and I’m sure I don’t exist to her either.
“That girl you were with at the club, she’s a friend of yours?”
“Brooke? Yeah, we work together. She’s great. She’s an actress actually,” she says proudly. “I know once she gets her big break she’ll take off.”
“She’s lucky to have you in her corner.”
“She’s a good friend,” she states. “Okay, so we’ve officially left the city. Where are you taking me, Logan?”
I take the overpass and head for the fairgrounds north of the city. It’s probably cheesy as hell where I’m taking her but if some things haven’t changed, I know she’ll appreciate it.
“I told you it’s a surprise.”
“I bet I can make you tell me,” she brags, turning up the dial just as some twangy song about a sin wagon begins to play.
“Babe, you can play that country shit as loud as you want to, I still won’t tell you.”
“Ugh, just tell me!”
“Nope.”
“Logan Mackenzie, you’ve only gotten more stubborn I’m afraid,” she sighs, leaning back against her seat.
I turn up the music even louder and thump my fist against the steering wheel in time with the beat. Her laughter fills the cab of the truck the rest of the way.
After a grand total of four country songs that Prairie knew every single word to, I finally pull into a busy lot and cut the engine. People are coming and going, fathers with small children riding on top of their shoulders, older kids packing massive stuffed animals and half empty cartons of popcorn. I watch Prairie as she gazes out the window and takes it all in.
“The carnival?!”
“If you’re up for it,” I tell her, suddenly nervous that this was a stupid idea.
She smacks my chest and unbuckles her seatbelt, climbing from the truck and shutting the door behind her while I scramble to keep up. I lace my fingers with hers and we head for the gates.
“I can’t even remember the last time I went to a carnival,” she says. “I was probably ten years old.”
“Then I made the right choice,” I gri
n.
She stops and leans up, pressing her lips to my cheek. “Thank you,” she beams. “Now let’s get in there so you can win me something big.”
“All you have to do is ask, you know that.”
The last time I said those words to her we were seventeen. I meant them back then and I sure as hell mean them now. We can figure out the messy shit later, right now I just wanna be with her. She blinks quickly before she tugs my hand and guides us to the ticket booth.
*
“No pressure, but I’ve got my heart set on the purple dragon,” Prairie whispers against my ear, the scent of buttered popcorn on her lips. We’ve been on just about every single ride and now, as requested, I’m settling to win her a prize.
“That thing is half the size of you,” I grin, removing the fake gun from the holster in front of me.
“Which is exactly why I must have it.”
I’ve already overpaid the carny manning this particular booth for my three attempts and now all that’s standing between me and that damn dragon is a moving target that is obviously fixed.
“And if I don’t win it?”
She shrugs and pops another handful of popcorn into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before she replies, “You still get the girl.”
I take aim and miss the first shot, followed quickly by the second, also a miss. I tune out the noise around me and watch the target slide back and forth. I squeeze the trigger and smack the bullseye, Prairie shrieking with delight beside me.
“You did it!”
I ignore the carny and snatch the purple dragon from the top row of prizes and hand it to Prairie. She wraps her arms around it and laughs. The stupid thing really is half the size of her and I can’t help but laugh at the way its tail sweeps the ground as she rocks it back and forth in her arms. She looks up at me, eyes bright, her smile wide.
“Once again Logan, you’re my hero,” she says.
The drive back into the city is quiet. We left the carnival after Prairie declared me her hero and I shrugged it off with a mumbled assurance that it was nothing. There’s a lightness in my chest as we near the blinking city lights that I haven’t felt in a long time. In just over five years to be exact.
“I had a great time Logan, thanks for taking me.”
“I’m glad. Me too.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it? In so many ways we’ve changed but tonight it felt like we were picking up right where we left off.”
I pull over and park across the street from her building, turning off the ignition I take a deep breath and try to find the right words which I can almost never seem to do.
“I’m sorry that I pushed you away after I was arrested. I was stupid and convinced that you’d be better off without me.”
“Logan, al-“
“Please, let me finish,” I say, angling my body towards hers. “I knew when they slapped those cuffs on me that I fucked everything up. I was so damn pissed at myself for giving in and ruining what we had and I knew that I wouldn’t get off easy. I didn’t wanna string you along and I thought I was doing the right thing but I was miserable without you. Please believe me.”
“I do,” she tells me, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“The thing is, after today, or even the other night, I know that I can’t do it again. I can’t walk away from you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I was so damn grateful for your love and I gave it all back, like it meant nothing. I’m so fucking sorry Prairie. I gave up on us, on you. But I don’t want it to be too late for us now.”
She slides across the seat and closes the space between us, wrapping her slim arms around my neck.
“I’m here,” she says. “We’re here together, and nothing is going to get in the way of that. Not this time.”
She tilts her head back, her green eyes shining and I know for certain that I can’t fuck this up again. I need to get out of the club and out of my deal with Zavier.
“I need you to trust me Prairie.”
“I trust you.”
I know that I’ll always want her, that I’ll always need her. When I stepped out of that shithole prison and into my new life, I was ready to accept my fate. To embrace the dangerous parts of myself and ignore any past desires to be better or do better. But the minute Prairie walked back into my life, I once again find myself wanting more than anything, to be worthy of her. To be the man she deserves and gives herself so willingly to. I vow to myself that I’ll clean up my own mess and do whatever I have to in order to keep her.
Chapter 20
Prairie
I’m acutely aware of Logan’s body behind mine as I unlock the door and reach for the light switch. I toss my gym bag and purse onto the counter and laugh as Logan hauls my prize through the door.
“I think it’s possible that I did not think this through,” I smile.
“Too late now, you’re stuck with him,” he replies, setting the monstrous stuffed animal on a chair at the kitchen table.
“He looks good there.”
My smile slowly fades as the air suddenly thickens between us. Logan steps towards me, narrowing the space that separates my body from his. Over the course of the evening, each brushing of our hands, each time he placed his palm firmly on my lower back, I felt it. This indescribable sensation that poured over me. Need, want…desire.
When he’s close enough for me to touch, he hesitates and seems to be waiting for permission. I reach my hand for his and place his palm over my heart.
“Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” he answers gruffly.
“Every time you touch me,” I explain. “I can’t control it.”
I raise up on my toes and press my lips lightly to his, pulling back just enough for him to say goodnight if he wants to.
“Are you sure?” he asks instead.
I lift his hand up from the counter behind me and lace our fingers together, bringing our hands up to my mouth I press my lips to his bruised knuckles.
“I’m not afraid Logan. Not of you.”
I should explain to him just how much weight these words carry. But right now, I want the tragedy of my stolen innocence to remain solely in my past. I want to embrace this desire I have and just…feel.
He brings his mouth back down to mine. “I’m terrified,” he says before he seals his lips to mine. His other hand presses into my back, bringing me close to him and suddenly the five years we’ve spent apart are non-existent.
My pulse races as my hand leaves his and I wrap my arms around his neck. He groans into my mouth and grips the backs of my thighs, lifting me onto the counter behind me. My legs wrap tightly around his waist, my hips rocking forward as he rips his mouth from mine and nips hungrily at my throat. My breath is strained, my heart drumming.
I sink my fingers into his thick hair and force his mouth back to mine, tilting my head back, I silently plead for him to give me more. To take more. Our bodies mold together perfectly, just like they used to. Our hands roam, he grips my breast and squeezes. The moan rumbling up from my chest has him grinning against my lips. There’s no one in the world but the two of us. I feel him. Only him.
He lifts me easily from the counter and walks us to my bedroom and I know that I want this more than anything. To feel him above me, to have him inside of me. He stops at the edge of the mattress and lets me slide down. Pulling the tie from my hair, he watches as the mess falls to my shoulders. He buries his face in my neck and inhales deeply and for a moment we simply stand there and hold each other. When he leans back, he looks down at me and grips the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and I know in my heart that this is the way it was always supposed to be. Logan’s strong hands on me, gentle yet firm, touching me in a way that no one else ever could. I feel every brush of his fingertips down to my bones, closing my eyes I surrender to the feeling of being cherished.
“Beautiful,” he says, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
I open my eyes and place my hands on his
chest, looking up I say the words that are in my heart. The words that are meant only for him. “Logan. I want this,” I say. “I always wanted this with you.”
I reach for his shirt and pull it off, throwing it on the floor with mine. His gaze turns dark and he nudges me back onto the bed, my breath catching in my throat as he begins to roll my jeans down my thighs, all the way off. He kneels at the foot of the bed and begins trailing kisses up one leg and then the other, so lightly that I can hardly feel his lips on my skin. He drags his mouth along my stomach, up to my nipple and sucks it into his mouth, biting down gently before he brings his mouth up to mine.
I pull him to me and give him everything that I have, pouring it into a kiss that runs so deep within me I swear he must feel my soul on his lips. I reach between us for the button on his pants, desperate to feel him, to have him replace my nightmare and make it something sweeter. He reaches for my hand and presses it into the mattress beside my head.
“Let me go slow babe,” he says. “I’ve waited so long for you.”
“I need you Logan,” I gasp. “Please.”
He grips the sides of my black panties and pulls them down my legs, standing at the end of the bed he tosses them aside and stares down at me. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen as he tugs down his jeans and his black boxers, his erection thick and hard. I’m even more desperate for him to fill me.
“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he grumbles.
I reach my hand out for him. “Come back to me,” I say.
He kneels on the bed and takes his time making his way up my body, kissing every inch of my skin as he goes. He pauses between my thighs and licks my seam, gently pulling on the tight bundle of nerves with his teeth. Goose bumps cover my skin and my hips continue to rock, searching for relief. Feeling his bare skin against mine has my back arching up until finally his lips find mine, his hardness pressing against the throbbing need between my legs.
“Tell me what you need babe,” he says, grazing his lips over the swell of my breasts.
