Authors: Elizabeth Finn
I’ve been standing under the hot jets of water long enough for my body to turn into a wrinkled prune, but I’m still no closer to wrapping my head around this new and incredibly erotic dynamic to our relationship. Relationship… Is that what we have? No. He’s leaving so soon to start a brand new life in Denver, and I’ll be off to Ann Arbor to begin a life of my own soon enough—away from insane drunk fathers and away from memories of dead mothers and away from him… My heart hurts at the very thought, and my breath is sucked right from my chest as the idea hits hard. It isn’t as though it’s occurring to me for the first time. I’ve thought about it often, but I always manage to push it away, rationalizing it’s happening later, later, later… But it’s not later, it’s almost here—now!
My shower’s done nothing but convinced me confusion really is the only way to feel, so I give up on the hot water and decide more caffeine is in order. As I look at my naked body in the mirror, I see my nipples looking rather abused and bruised, and I blush at the memory of how many places and how many times his mouth has been on my body since last night. It’s hard not to think of the many past memories I have of Logan—memories that so completely conflict with these new memories of him—him with his family, playing as children, him and his friends hanging out playing video games while Sara and I played dolls and dress up. And not in one of those memories could I have ever imagined where I’d be now.
As I turn to dress, I catch the ugly black bruises running up the back of my legs to my rear, and I’m reminded of just what Logan has given up for me. He was desperate when I questioned staying with him full time. I hadn’t even told him no, and he was suddenly ready to throttle me. He’s gone beyond any measure I could imagine to protect me and keep me safe, so why should I balk at the idea of staying here with him? It’s not as if I want to be anywhere else. I have a car now, so it’s not as if I rely on Sara to pick me up for school any more. What’s more, Logan seems to like his life quiet and simple. He has many friends and always has, but he seems to like his home to be a quiet one. I’ve not ever seen friends or even his family pop over unannounced. He’s independent and in control of his life. Maybe we could get away with it for another couple months…
As I wander back out to the kitchen, feeling overly waterlogged but refreshed, I see Logan is working on breakfast. I slide my hand up the back of his T-shirt, wondering all the while where I suddenly got such nerve as to so boldly touch a man. Oh yeah, picked up a little nerve last night … and maybe a bit more this morning. He reaches his arm around me, pulling me gently to his side before leaning down and kissing me on my forehead. I blush as that word pops in my mind again, “relationship.” Is this what a relationship feels like, I wonder—close, comfortable, warm, safe, thrilling, erotic, and smelling deliciously of pancakes…
As we sit to breakfast, I decide to set Logan’s mind at ease. “Logan, I’ll stay here. Full time.” And the look that comes over his face is all the appreciation that I need, and quite frankly, don’t deserve. Relief floods over him, and the tension is suddenly gone from his beautiful features.
Chapter 13
We can’t get to the trailer to pick up my car and clothing until my father leaves, which likely won’t be until the evening when he heads out to paint the town in drunken vomit. Since I have to work, Logan decides he’ll take me and pick me up, and we’ll go over to the trailer together after I’m off. And the moment I step out of the back door of the bistro at closing time, I sense his anxiety. I know he’s nervous my father will come home, and after the night before, I am, too.
As we enter the trailer, he pulls me hastily down the hall toward my room. It is still disheveled and torn apart from our little one-sided boxing match the night before, and Logan sets to work immediately. Collecting clothes and any other personal items I might need goes a lot quicker than I expect; I suppose it has more to do with the fact I really don’t own much of anything. And within fifteen minutes, we’re out the door and loading my bags into the back of my Wagoneer. There’s a better than good chance my father won’t even notice I’m missing from his life. And quite frankly, I’m counting on it.
Sara calls while I’m on my way back to Logan’s, asking if I want to come over for the night. I’ve spent less time with Sara recently than I ever have in the past, and as much as I want to be with Logan, I also really want to see Sara. It is agony not being able to share my life with Sara the way I always have, and because Logan has become such a big part of my life, I feel as though I never spend any real time with Sara anymore. I miss her terribly, and while I know I can’t talk to her about any of the things I desperately need to talk to her about, I also know I need to spend time with her all the same.
After we carry my meager worldly possessions inside and dump them on the spare room bed, I tell Logan I’m going to stay with Sara for the night. He looks momentarily stunned before shaking it off and pulling me into his arms. He leans down and kisses me deeply, pulling gently on my bottom lip with his mouth. “Well, at least your lip doesn’t look too bad.” Of course, I’d forgotten about my lip, but after a bit of lip gloss I’m looking as good as new, and I’m out the door.
I miss Logan the moment I hop in my car and realize I won’t see him until the next day. If I’m this pathetic being away from him for one night, what’s it going to be like when he’s off to Colorado for his spring break skiing trip in a week? He’s also going to be spending a good amount of time between Allendale and Denver these last few months of the semester, getting ready for his move and his new job. I may as well get used to being away from him. Perhaps it will soften the blow when he’s gone for good.
It’s late when I arrive at Sara’s, but she has a late night horror movie fest planned, and we end up terrified and certain there are at least three supernatural serial killer maniacs on the loose in Allendale by the times it’s all said and done.
We finally turn in, and moments after, the lights go out. “Row, what’s going on with you? You’re different lately…” I’m silent, not having any idea how to respond, so she continues. “I just miss you. I feel like we never talk anymore, and even though we see each other all the time, there’s just something missing. Like I’m missing part of you, and I don’t know what part it is.”
Leave it to Sara to use her best friend psychic powers on me. I’m still stunned into silence, but she deserves an answer. The problem is I can’t give her one, at least not the real one. But I try to oblige. “You’re not missing anything. I’m sorry. I know I’ve been distant lately. I think I’m just out of sorts with the end of our senior year coming up, and all the changes next year. It all just feels a bit overwhelming at times. I really am sorry. Please believe me I have no reservations about our friendship and us moving in together next year. You mean the world to me, and I’m sorry if I’ve been off lately.” And I’m telling the truth.
I have no reservations about my friendship with Sara. I would be nowhere without her. And after all is said and done, and Logan has moved on with his life, I will still need her friendship more than ever before. Whether I can tell Sara about Logan or not really won’t be the issue. I’ll just need her to be my constant and true friend. She’s never let me down in the past, and I’m counting on her friendship to get me through the future.
*
Having Rowan out of the house has given my mind all the permission it needs to run wild with my thoughts of her. I’m more than confused about her and the direction I’ve pushed our relationship. I’m also insane about her as well, and I know now it was only a matter of time before we ended up here. What does that say about me? What does that say about my feelings for Rowan? I know I’m protective of her, but I’ve known her since we were kids; of course I would care about her. I’m attracted to her, there is no doubt about that, but is it more than just attraction? Do I care about her more than I should? I thought I might die if anything happened to her last night. I wanted to kill her father for hurting her, but my need to take care of her and my fear she might be really hurt superseded any vengeance I might have wanted to take out on him. I can’t bear the idea of losing her, yet I will. Caring about her more deeply than I should isn’t an option. Falling in love with her is most definitely not an option. But is it really my choice?
Chapter 14
The next week passes quickly; too quickly. And before I know it, I’m touching her for the last time in what will be more than a week apart. The past week has been filled with her, perhaps a little studying for the bar exam, and then, of course, more of her. She hasn’t spent a single night out of my bed aside from the first night she spent with Sara, which suits me just fine, since I can’t keep my hands off of her. I’ve become intimately familiar with every inch of her body, sometimes spending inordinate amounts of time simply touching and kissing every ounce of skin I can find.
I’ve been vacillating between excitement for our annual spring break trip and absolute despair at the idea of leaving her for a week, so it is none too surprising I’m homesick for her the second we pull from the curb. This is a trip I’ve taken with my oldest of friends for the past five years, and it’s always a great trip. Denver has always been my second home. Sara and I grew up spending practically every holiday and vacation here. We were on the slopes by the time we were five, thanks in large part to our parents’ passion for skiing and their nice little condo in Frisco. It is no doubt the reason I chose to start my career in Denver. Being close to the mountains seemed like a dream come true when I first decided to make Denver my home, but a shadow has slowly been building over that dream for the past few months.
As we make one last pit stop just before hitting the congestion of the city, I take a deep breath of the very familiar air, and on the ride through Denver toward the mountains I quietly take in the beauty of this amazing place. I do feel like I’m home here, but there is also something incredibly depressing about this realization. The mountains, usually so beautiful and inviting, seem sad and foreboding. It’s as if my love for this place is slipping away from me in some small way. My dreams of living here, once so vibrant and beckoning, are suddenly foggy and filled with insecurity. The neighborhoods I’ve fallen in love with and planned to make my home in one day suddenly seem uninviting and foreign. I want to love this place as much as I always have, but I feel more like a petulant and resentful child instead.
After unloading the SUV at the condo in Frisco, I escape to my bedroom to unpack before we head out for dinner. I wonder what she’s doing right now. I wonder if she’s thinking about me as much as I seem to think about her all the time. I wonder if this time apart is as hard for her as it is for me. Then my cell rings, and the caller ID implies she must have been reading my mind. My heart races for a moment, in that juvenile school boy sort of way I’ve gotten so used to, and the first sound of her voice on the other end soothes every last shred of discontentment from my mind.
We talk as long as we can before the guys are hollering for me to get my ass in gear and out the door, and I hate to let her go. I feel more at ease than I have all day just having had the chance to hear her voice again. And when we get out of the house to the hole in the wall sports bar we visit every time we’re in town, I remarkably end up having a great time. For a while, I almost feel like my old self again—engaged in the here and now, rather than feeling like I’ve left my brain back in Allendale. But then, it was only after talking to Rowan that I was able to relax and enjoy myself here in the mountains… So, was I really my old self again, or just living on my high from her? When we finally close down the bar after two in the morning, I realize I have a text message from her.
“Thought about sleeping in my bed, but decided I’d rather be in yours. Hope you don’t mind… Have a great week.”
I’m a little too drunk not to respond. “So long as you leave your pajamas in your own room. They have no place in mine. Sleep tight.”
*
Waking to his text message is the very best way to start my day, and as much as I miss him, I feel good—really good. I’m working all week long, and it promises to be a busy week. I’ve picked up extra shifts and should be sitting on a fairly nice size piggy bank by the end of the week. Sara and I spend any free time I have together, shopping, eating, watching movies, all of our most favorite things. She’s still wary of my recent distance, and every other question out of her mouth is some searching seeking question about my life.
“So are you seeing someone?” God bless her and her ever-invasive questions.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I would tell you if I was seeing someone.”
I’m lying and she damn well knows it. “Then you won’t mind if I set you up with someone.” She takes in the look of horror on my face before continuing. “You might like him. He’s cute and he’s friends with Frank.” Frank's her latest and greatest.
“You absolutely will not set me up with anyone, Sara.” My tone is exasperated but good-natured. She’s trying to get a rise out of me.
“So
you
were just getting ready to tell me who it is you’re seeing then?” I curse her greatest gift, persistence, as I shake my head in feigned confusion, hoping it comes off honestly.
She eventually moves on and asks about how things are going with my father. She asks if anything new is going on at work. But she keeps going back to the love interest angle. Were it not her brother for whom I was smitten, I would want nothing more than to describe every last detail of my new love life with her, but I’m guessing it would be inappropriate to tell her what an amazing kisser Logan is. She gleans nothing new from me and finally gives up the interrogation and resorts to just having a good time. And we do have a good time.
By the following Saturday night I’ve put away a little over $600 in nice, tax-free tip money. Logan should be arriving home by the next evening, and I’m practically salivating at the thought of him coming through the door. It’s quiet in his apartment; too quiet. All of the windows are open as I try to air out the remnants of my latest tragic kitchen experiment, and even the sound from the streets below isn’t helping to fill the void. I fall asleep early in his bed, wanting to fast forward the rest of the weekend. The sheets still smell of him, and I fall asleep dreaming of his hands and the way they feel on my skin.