Fallen Fourth Down
Page 4“Same problems? What are you talking about?”
We heard a girl screech. Recognizing it as Cass, I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter beside Kris. Logan scowled at the crowd, but turned to me. His eyes were dark and stormy. Kris had been running her hand through his hair, so the curls were gone. He trimmed it short so little ends stuck up instead. As he continued to glare at me, Kris pressed against his chest. Her hand started roaming over it and lifted his shirt. His stomach muscles rippled from her touch, and he sucked in his breath.
I smiled at him.
He expelled a frustrated sigh. “What did you just do?”
“Nothing.”
“Logan,” Kris murmured, pressing kisses to his neck and around to his mouth.
He moved out of the way and tucked her to the side. His hand was splayed out on her hip, but she was already reaching for him again. A closer look at her revealed she was beyond drunk. She was obliterated. As she tried pawing for his shirt, he shook his head to clear the lust. His scowl appeared again. “Did Natalie do something?”
“Relax, Logan.”
I laughed. “I can handle this now. It’s not like before with four against one. I know the game. I know the rules of your school. I can take care of myself now.”
His head moved back a fraction of an inch. “Really?”
I nodded and opened my beer. It tasted like copper. “Delicious.” I smiled anyway.
“Since when do you drink?”
I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. Since Mason was gone. That thought seared through me, but I banked it down. Instead, I said, “Since I’m a senior. Come on. I don’t have a meet this week. I can drink, for one night anyway.”
Kris managed to evade his hand and wrapped her arms around his waist. He continued to stare at me, studying me. The good-natured Logan was gone. This was the intense Logan, and to be honest, it was one that I hadn’t seen much of. When Mason was around, Logan didn’t have to worry as much, because Mason took care of things, but he was gone. This year was different, and now Logan had to take care of things.
“I’m here.” Heather landed next to us with a huff. Her eyebrows shot up as she inspected Kris, now trying to get her hand inside of Logan’s pants. He didn’t deter her wandering hands, and he didn’t look away from me. As Heather gestured to the crowd, I looked back at him. He was trying to get inside my head like Mason did. He was trying to figure out what was going on with me. Oblivious to our stare-off, she stated, “I’m here two seconds and a chick fight broke out. Talk about that nothing’s changed…” She trailed off as she focused us. “Oh.”
He was pissed about something. As Kris lifted his shirt and started pressing kisses to his chest, he didn’t move. He never broke eye contact.
My jaw hardened, and I raised it. Two could play at this game. What was I doing? I was declaring that something was wrong. Logan wasn’t an idiot, nor was he a chicken shit. He would find me later, and he would interrogate me until I confessed, or, I gulped, he’d tell Mason and Mason would get it out of me within seconds.
I dropped the anger, even though I wasn’t sure what I was so mad about, and tried to give him a small grin.
His eyes narrowed even more.
“Okay.” Heather waved a hand between us. “Not sure what’s going on, but I have to pee. Sam, since I’m sure you know this house and all the ways to sneak in and out, why don’t you show me to the nearest and most private bathroom we can find?”
I broke the spell and turned away. “Yeah, sure.”
“Great.” She took my hand and stepped forward, pushing me to the side, forcing Logan to move back a bit. She gave me the space I needed. What the hell was my problem? She stared at Logan, but said to me, “So, which way do we go?”
I sighed. I had evaded an interrogation from Logan, but I was going to get a different one. As I led her through the hallways and up the stairs, I took her to Mason’s room. When she saw the coded lock installed on the outside the door, her eyebrows shot up. I keyed in the code and let us in, saying, “He’s not dumb. He knew Logan would eventually have a party or his mom would snoop in here.” I gestured to his bathroom. “It’s all yours.”
“I’m not going to find anything gross and maybe personal in there, am I?”
“No. He mostly stayed with me.”
“Gotcha.” Putting the beer on his desk, she took a can with her and hollered from inside, “Help yourself. Something’s telling me you need to get lit tonight.”
I had already had one, but she was right. I took another.
Mason had a couch and love seat on one side of his room. His desk had been custom built into the wall, between two closet doors. His king-sized bed was set in the corner, on a slight pedestal.
I sunk down on one of the couches when Heather came out. She gazed around and whistled. “Shit. It boggles my mind that this is just one of his rooms. He’s got like eight hundred, right? His mom’s house. His dad’s. At college. Yours. Where else?” She pointed to me with her beer can. “That’s right, that one penthouse thing you told me he took you to. The lifestyle of the rich and dicks.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">