Lucky Ball

by Lisa N. Paul

  Swallowing the large lump in her throat, Wren headed for the exit. Apparently she wasn’t so lucky after all.

  Chapter Thirty

  Where’s Your Side Kick?

  “You’re an ass.”

  Logan was too damn exhausted to respond to Smith’s latest round of compliments. Instead, he ignored his friend and continued work on the last-minute details for the eighties rock concert that opened that night. He and the show’s director, Jim, had been working nonstop all week. Aside from the normal show craziness, they had to get parental consent waivers signed for every student being filmed for the documentary. They also needed to upgrade the lighting in the auditorium and find a last-minute replacement for the sound technician because their guy had been hit by a car and was currently hospitalized.

  He didn’t have time to worry about Wren. Which made everything even worse since he couldn’t get her off his damn mind.

  “You can try to ignore me, Enders, but I can be really annoying.”

  “You don’t say,” Logan deadpanned.

  Smith had made a job of visiting Logan daily, either at work or home, to insult him. Little did he know Logan had been doing a good enough job on his own. The look on Wren’s face as she heard “Lucky” for the first time was priceless. It was exactly what he dreamed of when he wrote it during their days together. Hope. A future. Love. He wanted it all with her. After the show ended, he’d wanted nothing more than to go to her, sweep her in his arms, and tell her everything would be okay. Then he remembered that he couldn’t make that promise, because she wouldn’t place her trust in him. Without trust, they had nothing. Nothing.

  “You really don’t see it, do you?”

  “Look, I’m loaded with work,” Logan snapped. “Get to the point. I promise we can have tea and crumpets tomorrow while we chat about our feelings.”

  Chuckling, Smith leaned against the doorjamb. Logan sometimes wondered if it was Smith’s muscle alone that held that thing up. “You’re an ass.”

  “Really, you’ve run out of insults already? I’m so disappointed.”

  “Okay, you’re a dumbass. One of the things that attracted you to Wren was her quirkiness. Christ, you nearly bit my fucking head off when I teased her. Yet that quirkiness is the same reason you dumped her?”

  Silence floated between the men for a second before Logan spoke. “That’s the thing—I love her quirkiness. Seriously, the fact that it takes her eight minutes to order a cup of coffee? That shit makes me laugh. The fact that every time I went to her house, there was a mountain of discarded clothes on her bed? That didn’t bother me at all. Let me reverse the question, Smith. You get Emmy to give you a second chance, and you play by the straight and narrow. One day she sees you talking to an old friend, someone you never slept with, as impossible as that might be, and she decides you can’t be trusted and dumps your ass. What do you do? Do you never leave your house again? You’ve slept with a large portion of women in this town. Do you move? You used to be a player, so how does she know you won’t cheat on her in a new location? You can’t change who you were any more than you can change who she is. Only she can change herself, and if she isn’t willing to try…”

  Understanding lit his friend’s features. “Then it can’t work.”

  “Exactly.” How was it possible that hearing Smith’s acceptance made the pain worse?

  “Fuck. Fine, you’re not a dumbass. Sorry I was pushing. I just really liked you two together. I’ll see you at the Watering Hole after the show tonight. Good luck.”

  *

  “Are you sure you still want to go to the show tonight?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Wren had Emmy on speaker phone as she slid into her jeans. “Alice—Matty’s mom—and I have emailed several times. She’s a nice woman, and I adore her little boy. Not to mention these shows mean the world to Logan.”

  “Wrenny, I understand you love him, but maybe it’s time you let him go.”

  After the show at Crushed, that was exactly what Wren was—crushed. She had called Emmy and cried for hours about the song, the look in Logan’s eyes, and the way he left the stage without turning back. For a few days, Emmy held out hope that Logan would contact Wren, but after nearly a week, it appeared that hope had vanished.

  “I need to do this, Ems. I need to know I tried everything in my power to get him to talk to me. Wish me luck.”

  “Sweetie, you want me to come with you?”

  “You know what? Yes. You don’t need to come to the concert, but I’ve heard everyone is going to the Watering Hole afterward for drinks. I’d love you forever if you met me there.”

  “Wrenny, you’ll love me forever regardless. Text me when the show wraps up, and I’ll see you there.”

  *

  There was something awesome about watching kids embrace music from earlier generations. While Wren had been born in the nineties, she loved eighties music. Maybe it had something to do with working in the factory as a teenager and constantly hearing seventies and eighties music there. The students embraced the decade by wearing big hair wigs, leather pants, and neon.

  The songs were played with skill and an enthusiasm only harnessed by the young. When Matty Davis walked on stage with the other kids to do their rendition of “Living on a Prayer,” it took all of Wren’s strength not to cheer until the song was finished. Then her cheers were drowned out by the rest of the audience.

  Afterward, Wren waited her turn in line, listening to the parents marvel over the school, the instructors, and the program as a whole.

  When it was her turn to be face to face with him, she nearly forgot to speak. The familiarity of his scent brought her comfort and sorrow all at once. “That was incredible. Your students are amazing, Logan. You should be so proud.”

  “Thanks. I am. Why are you here, Wren?”

  Cold water. That’s what his comment felt like, though she refused to allow it to weaken her resolve. “I’m here because you never returned my calls. I’m here because we need to talk.”

  His gaze sobered. “Are you okay?”

  “Well… no, not really.”

  His jaw ticked. “Wren, are you ill?”

  “No, I’m not sick, Lo. I miss you. I—”

  Logan closed his eyes. His lips moved, but no sound came out until his lids opened. “I don’t have time for this. I have to sign some paperwork for the film crew, then I have somewhere to be.”

  “I saw the camera crew here. The documentary is going to be amazing.” His gaze bore into her. “Umm, I know you’re going to the Watering Hole after this. Do you mind if I join?”

  Logan exhaled, followed by a one-shoulder shrug that didn’t seem blasé at all. “It’s a public place. Suit yourself. Now please excuse me.”

  Within seconds, the crowd swallowed him up.

  *

  “To a job well done.” Logan drank a tequila shot with Jim and the other instructors who made the night go off without a hitch. “Seriously, Shades of Music would have never gotten off the ground without you. Thank you for all of your hard work. I’m grateful.”

  The crew’s your welcomes and thank yous were shouted over the loud music. A few minutes later, his friends and coworkers abandoned the table for the dance floor, leaving Logan alone.

  “Hey, would you mind if I joined you?”

  Without the stress of the show, the swarms of students and parents, and the pressure of the camera crew, Logan had nothing to take his mind off of the heartbreakingly beautiful woman who had been trying to steal his attention for nearly three weeks. “Sure, have a seat.”

  Raising her eyebrows, Wren offered a questioning gaze as she pulled out the chair. Cautious but hopeful. He, on the one hand, felt too scared for hope.

  “Where’s your sidekick?” he asked.

  “Emmy? She’s somewhere in that pile of bodies dancing.”

  “No, I was talking about the other one, the one you actually listen to.” Christ, he needed to keep his mouth shut. He was beginning to hate himself. After Smit
h had left his office that afternoon, Logan realized he was hurt over more than just the damn Fortune Ball.

  Biting her bottom lip, Wren’s gaze dropped to the tabletop briefly before lifting back to his. “Look, will you at least hear me out? If when I’m finished, you want me gone, I’ll leave. Please just let me say what I need to say.”

  He nodded. “Go on.”

  “I’m sorry. From the moment I met you until the night I let you leave, I was unfair. I know it may not seem like it, but I let you in further than I had any other man, and I wanted you there. I just… I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. Then that night… seeing Thurston threw me off completely. I—”

  Hearing that asshole’s name sparked an unhappiness in Logan that he had never felt before. It wasn’t jealousy as much as hurt, vulnerability, and disappointment. “Do you have any idea how that made me feel? The knowledge that another man’s memory could throw you into such a tailspin you would toss me aside like I was nothing? Someone you barely knew back in high school who treated you like shit managed to negate all the love I willingly gave you. Do you know what that did to me? Jesus, Wren, it was bad enough to know that a toy held more weight than any of my feelings, but a memory? What else is there to say?”

  Wren pushed out of her chair, her eyes large and liquid as she reached for her coat and small purse. “Almost everything you said is true.” Her voice was thick and unsteady. “I was wrong. I have no more apologies, but there is one thing you should know. It’s the thing I had planned to tell you that night at dinner, the thing I should have told you before you walked out my door… the Fortune Eight was wrong, Logan. So wrong. There was never a moment when I didn’t love you back. I love you more than black plastic and blue liquid.”

  With those parting words, hope no longer shone in Wren’s frown or flat blue eyes. She scurried away from the table before Logan had the chance to process all the things she had said.

  “Black plastic and blue liquid?” Just repeating those nonsensical words made Logan’s lips curl into a small smile. The first one he’d felt since the night he left Wren’s cozy house. Damn, but the woman still had a way of taking him from angry to smiling in seconds.

  In the past few weeks, Logan had done everything in his power to move forward without Wren, only to learn he simply wasn’t happy without her. He was in love, and now that she’d admitted she was in love with him, they would figure out a way to make things work. There was no other option.

  “Do you intend to sit there all night with a goofy grin on your face, or do you plan to get your girl back?” Emmy stood beside him with a hand on her hip, a cocked brow, and a huge smile.

  “Leaving now. If you see Smith—”

  “Just because you and Wrenny are good doesn’t mean shit for your asshole friend and me. Send him a text and be good to my girl. She deserves it.”

  “Yeah, she does.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  All Signs Point To Yes

  “Hold on, I’m coming.” Wren called as she ran from her bathroom to the front door, blotting her freshly washed face.

  Her eye makeup was gone, but there was nothing she could do about her puffy red eyes. Not that Emmy would care what she looked like. Wren was surprised that her friend had already noticed she’d left. Wren had only been home for about fifteen minutes and hadn’t even had time to text Emmy.

  “You got here fas—”

  “Actually”—Logan’s eyes caught hers—“it feels like it took forever.”

  “Logan…”

  “I guess this is a weird time to ask, but were you expecting someone else?”

  “Gah, no, I thought you might have been Emmy. Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here because I love you. Madly, deeply, crazy love you.”

  Wren closed her eyes as his words washed over her soul.

  “Look at me, baby. That night, I’d planned to lay my heart on the line and tell you the things I’d been feeling, but with everything that happened, I’m not sure if you really heard me. Hell, at this point, I’m no longer sure of exactly what I said and what I didn’t.”

  She remembered. She remembered him expressing his love and her throwing it back in his face. She remembered being scared and angry with herself and hurting the man she loved. And she remembered the void that had filled her body and mind the second he left—until the searing hurt finally came. What she didn’t remember was Logan’s exact words. Words that should have been engrained in her mind.

  His voice was calm, his gaze steady. “I love you, Wren. I’m in love with you. I’ve hated being apart from you, but our time apart wasn’t in vain, because I now know, without a doubt, that I can live without you.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but Logan placed a finger over her lips. “But I’d spend every single day miserable. I can’t remember life before you, but life after you sucks.”

  “How eloquent. You should put that line in a song.” She giggled with relief as her bones melted into a gelatinous mess.

  “Maybe I’d be smoother if I wasn’t standing out here in the cold, freezing my ass off.” He chuckled.

  “Oh my God, shit, I’m so sorry. Come inside.” Her laughter was no longer contained to a girlish squeak. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “I don’t know, Lucky. I thought it would be better to start with the more important stuff. ‘Hey, baby, I acted like a dick tonight, can you let me in?’ just didn’t seem right.”

  Hearing her nickname from his lips felt like a hug—warm, soft, and filled with love. As if reading her thoughts, Logan crossed the threshold, kicked the door closed, and pulled her into his arms. For the first time in weeks, Wren exhaled.

  *

  Christ, she felt amazing tucked against his chest. He never thought he’d have this again. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ve missed you, Lucky. Missed you like crazy.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she murmured. “I thought for sure when I left you tonight, we were through.”

  Her admission, no matter how much truth there may have been to it, hurt his heart. “You knew I’d come after you.”

  “I did?”

  “Of course you did. You can’t drop a statement like, ‘I love you more than black plastic and blue liquid,’ and not expect me to come after you. I was hanging on by a thread as it was. That little comment threw me right over the edge. What did it mean?”

  “You didn’t figure it out?” she asked.

  “No, I was too busy breaking every speed limit trying to get here.”

  She stepped out of his embrace but kept their hands locked together as she led him into her living room. “Do you notice anything different?”

  Shit, that question from a woman’s mouth was never a good thing. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he tugged her against his side. “Babe, things are finally getting back to where they’re meant to be between us. Are you sure you want to ask that question?”

  Hugging him tightly, Wren laughed. “Okay, you may have a point. Look at the coffee table, Lo. What’s missing?”

  Logan’s skin tingled as the realization hit him. “Where is it?” When Wren didn’t answer, Logan turned to her and asked again, “Where’s the Fortune Ball, Wren?”

  “It’s gone. It’s been gone since the night you left. Well, actually, it sat in the corner for a few days before I disposed of it. Well… for the sake of honesty, I beat the shit out of it with a hammer. Either way, it’s gone.” Satisfaction seemed to beam from her every word.

  He stood there, tongue-tied and astounded. “It’s gone?”

  “As gone as any object can be.”

  A thousand questions rolled around in his head—the hows and whys, if she was okay, how she’d been getting on without it.

  “Say something, please.” She nudged his arm. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

  “There’s so much rolling around in my head right now. Once again, you blew my mind. Why did you get rid of you
r ball? Have you been okay without it?” The shy smile that swept across her mouth had him dying to kiss her. “Before you say a word, know that I want so badly to kiss you right now, but once we start, I’m not sure we’ll be able to stop, and there is nothing more important than hearing what you have to say. So imagine me kissing you, soft and sweet, my tongue touching your lips before it slides into your mouth.” When Wren whimpered, Logan was satisfied they were on the same page. “Now, please tell me everything.”

  Clearing her throat, she narrowed her eyes. “You are a tease, Mr. Enders.”

  “No, Lucky, a tease I am not. That kiss, and so much more, will happen after we talk. Now, let’s get to it.”

  “How about if we make ourselves comfortable? Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, honey, but can I get you something?”

  She shook her head, settled on the couch next to him, and said, “That ball lied.”

  “Wren—”

  “No, let me say this. The ball lied, it did, but that wasn’t what hurt you, was it?”

  He slowly shook his head.

  “Exactly. I let it lie to you, and worse… I lied to you. I deceived myself for years. For years, I let something that meant nothing control everything. I did it because I was too scared to make another mistake, too insecure to own my choices, and I thought if I could blame something else when things went wrong… it wouldn’t hurt as bad.”

  “So did it hurt as bad?”

  “Everything was manageable.” She shrugged. “I always found a way of making sense of the outcome and fit the puzzle pieces together to make it work, no matter if it was good or bad. Until you came along. Walking out on you that first night was mind-blowing. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. You wouldn’t leave my mind. When we saw each other again, I thought, Ahh, this is how it was meant to be. Do you remember the night we made love for the first time?”

  Logan snickered. “Yeah, babe, that memory is tattooed in my brain.”