Perfectly Damaged

“Logan, my man.” Santino jumps up from the chair beside Bryson and spreads his arms, greeting Logan.

Logan nods at Santino and heads over to us. My face heats up and I avert my eyes. Can anyone hear my heartbeat right now? It’s so loud.

“Hey, guys.” He looks around the table, and I gaze up at him just as his eyes land on me. A shocked expression appears on his masculine features, and then he relaxes with a smile. “Glad you ladies could make it.”

“Thanks. Logan, right?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah, it’s Logan. Not Lance. Just Logan.” He grins at me.

Oh. My. God. Did anyone else catch that? I look around furtively. No one’s paying attention, thank God. My chest expands in relief.

Logan walks over to the fridge, right behind where Charlie is seated, and pulls out a beer. “What time you guys get here?” He shuts the fridge, turns around, and looks at Santino and Bryson, waiting for a response from them as he chugs down a beer.

Santino scratches the back of his head. “Um, around five. Right?” He looks over to Bryson for confirmation.

“Yeah, man, around five. My father keep you late?” Bryson asks.

Logan leans against the kitchen counter beside the fridge. I look down at my half-empty glass of water. This clear glass is quite interesting all of a sudden. “Yep,” Logan replies, popping the P.

Santino laughs. “Well, what did you expect? You knew that bullshit lie about helping a stranded girl on the street wasn’t gonna fly with your uncle. You should’ve just said you slept in. I think he’d respect that a bit more.”

My heart just dropped. The stranded girl is me. I’m the girl he pulled over for this morning. I’m the girl he waited patiently with until Charlie arrived. I think I’m going to be sick. I look up at Charlie. She glances at me with a concerned look and flicks her brows as if asking, “Are you okay?” I nod and stand quickly, trying to keep calm. “Excuse me. I have to use the bathroom.”

“There’s one over by the living area.” Bryson points toward the right of him. I dart straight to the bathroom and press my back into the door the moment I close it.

What the hell are you doing here, Jenna? My mind begins to race with thoughts. At least they’re my thoughts for a change. This is ridiculous. It’s times like this I wish I knew how to drive; I’d jump into Charlie’s car, speed out of here, and never look back. As far as I can tell, the only people that know about this morning are Logan, Charlie, and me. If anyone else knew, I think I’d be sick. Beyond sick. People would start asking questions, and questions lead to more questions. And unanswered questions lead to curiosity. I can’t have that. It’s bad enough Logan probably thinks less of me.

I breathe in and out evenly, stepping to the sink to dab my face with cool water. Once I’m pulled together, I step out. Charlie’s face is the first thing I see when I open the door. She scares the living daylights out of me. “What are you doing standing there like that?”

“I heard you talking to yourself,” she whispers, which is really a harsh non-whisper because Charlie is the worst whisperer ever.

Shit. I look around. The guys are no longer in the kitchen. “Did anyone else hear?”

“No.” She drops her crossed arms. “They’re in the back, getting things ready for the party. It’s starting in an hour.” She pauses. “Jenna, I know how you feel when people ask this, but—”

“Yes, I brought my medication,” I interrupt.

“Are you taking them?” She sighs heavily. “Don’t give me that look. I had to ask.”

“Don’t.” I raise a finger to her chest. “Don’t ever ask again. I know what I’m doing. This is supposed to be a good weekend. Don’t ruin it by acting like her.”

Charlie’s shoulders relax. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You’re right. This is going to be an awesome weekend. Come on, let’s go have some fun.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and hustles me out back onto a large deck where the guys are hanging around.

I’m supposed to be having fun right now, but all I’m trying to do is steer clear of Logan. I keep my distance. Every time I catch him staring at me, I look away. I stay close to Charlie and watch as new partiers arrive.

The party has filled out with over thirty people—all drunk, of course. Charlie is all over Santino. At least she’s having a good time. Logan is playing cards with Bryson and a few girls at one of the tables. I guess he got the hint; he hasn’t looked at me once over the past hour.

It’s the perfect moment to escape, so I climb down the steps of the deck and look past the trees, toward the lake. No one’s there, so I head to the waterfront. I reach the end of the dock and take a seat. With my feet dangling over the edge and my arms crossed, I inhale and exhale a fresh breath of air. The music from the house becomes distant. I zone it out, focusing on the image before me. I watch the sun set as blue, purple, pink, orange, and yellow paint the sky. The reflection bounces off the lake and ripples when a light breeze whips by. I try to picture myself home at this very moment. I’d probably be stuck in my room, but I’d rather be here.

I’ve probably been sitting here for about twenty minutes when I hear the dock’s floorboard creak loudly. Startled, I turn around to see what it is. Logan is walking over with two beer bottles in each hand, a warm smile spread across his chiseled features. I swallow hard, taking him in fully for the first time. Every other time I’ve been around Logan, I’ve been too wrapped up in my own head to really pay attention. He has a great physique, tall and toned. His broad shoulders could belong to a linebacker. His arms, swollen against the sleeves of his T-shirt, are sinewy and tan. Brown hair, cut close to his scalp, is a perfect contrast to his clear blue eyes. He’s wearing loose jeans that hang low on his waist, and his confident, carefree attitude is obvious in the way he carries himself. He’s got sex appeal, that’s for sure. I’m certain other girls can’t resist him.

With every step he takes, the more ragged my breathing becomes. I’m nervous, and I have no idea why. I’ve been purposely avoiding him the entire evening. I think it’s because he saw one of my meltdowns this morning. He probably thinks I was having some type of boy trouble or something. Little does he know he witnessed one of my mild episodes.

“Hey,” he says as he reaches me. “Mind if I join you?”