Perfectly Damaged

Yes. “No.”

He sits beside me as another light breeze blows by us. I inhale his scent. “So are you enjoying yourself?”

God, my eyes are closed. Did I seriously just close my eyes to breathe in his scent? I flutter my lashes open. Embarrassed and momentarily distracted, I blurt out, “Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, I am.” He extends his arm, offering me a beer. “No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

“Never?” He raises a brow.

“No. Well, I used to. Not anymore.”

Logan wrinkles his nose. “Bad experience, huh?” I answer with a nod and turn my head back to the lake. “Are you girls thinking of staying tomorrow too?” He cracks open a beer for himself and takes a gulp.

“Probably not. We’ll probably leave in the morning.”

“You should think about sticking around. We have a barbeque going on in the afternoon, and then we usually jump in the lake and have a few drinks.” He chuckles. “Although you don’t have to partake in the drinking.” I try to hold back a smile. He leans forward and I look over at him; he’s staring directly at me. “Are you smiling?” he asks with a large grin.

“I think it’s funny that you used the term partake.”

“I think it’s nice to see you smile.” His smile wavers, and he raises a brow. “Why do you do that?”

I look down at my feet swinging beneath me. “Do what?”

“You instantly stop smiling the moment I mention it. It’s okay to smile, especially out here.” I peek up at him. He spreads his arms wide, bottle in hand, and looks around. “No one will catch you.”

“I’m not afraid of anyone catching me.”

He nods, takes another swig of his beer, and looks straight ahead, across the lake. “Then what are you afraid of?”

Myself. “Nothing.” I steer the conversation away from me. “It’s beautiful out here. Thank you for inviting us. I’d probably be home watching TV or sleeping right now.”

“Sleeping? It’s only eight…nine…eight or nine.” He takes a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, well I don’t exactly live the high life.” He laughs at my response. We look at each other. His grin is contagious; I smile back at him. It’s a light smile, and I know I’m doing it this time. I just hope he doesn’t mention it. Logan drops his stare to my lips and his eyes linger there. For a moment, I watch him watching me. My smile slowly fades, and I don’t know if it’s a nervous reaction or a physiological one, but my tongue darts out to wet my lips. When it does, he tears his eyes away, taking another gulp of his beer, and the moment is gone.

“So how long has your family had the lake house?” I ask, hoping to cover the awkward moment.

“About twenty years,” he answers, but he doesn’t look back at me. He’s focused down on the beer bottle, twirling it in his hand.

“Oh, wow. That’s a long time. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is. When my uncle George purchased the land over twenty years ago, he barely had two dimes to rub together.” He shrugs, still twirling the bottle. “It was a deal he couldn’t pass up. He used all his savings on the land itself and purchased lumber and other items little by little until he had enough to build a small cottage. Originally, it was a two-bedroom, eight-hundred-square-foot cabin, not the four-thousand-square-foot party house it is today.”

I smile, trying to picture a small cabin where the large home now rests. “How did it get the way it is now?”

Logan brings the rim of the bottle to his lips and tilts his head back, chugging the rest of the beer. I swallow as I watch his lips curl into a smile around the rim. After he finishes, he places the beer down and looks up at me with a lopsided grin. “As my uncle’s business increased and more money came in, he began expanding the home. When Bryson, my brother, Sean, and I were in our teens, my uncle came up with a new tradition. Every summer, we’d come here and help with expansions and renovations until it became what it is now.”

“That’s amazing.”

“It is. The thing is…” He lifts one leg, leaves the other dangling, and twirls his body so that he’s facing me but not looking at me. His focus is over his left shoulder, on the house set back from the dock. “You’d think three teenage boys would want to spend their summers partying around, but we looked forward to helping with the lake house every year. There’s a piece of each of us in there.” He nods his head toward the property. “I guess that’s why we make it a point to still come. I mean it’s not like it used to be, filled with family, but I guess people grow and change.”

“Yeah. People do.”

Logan reaches for another beer bottle and twists it open. “So what’s your story?”

“I don’t have one,” I reply automatically, but my words come out flat.

“Everyone has a story, Jenna.” My name on his tongue sounds foreign, odd, but nice.

“Mine’s not worth telling.”

“I doubt that.”

I snap my head over irritably. “Why are you so interested?”

He shrugs, trying to school his features despite my nasty outburst. “I just think you’re interesting. That’s all. Is that a problem?”

“Trust me, the last thing you need is to know anything about my life. And the last thing I need is someone else judging me. So save yourself and become uninterested. Okay?” I hop to my feet. When I look down at him, a sigh escapes me and I relax my shoulders. He was sweet this morning, and now I’m being a bitch. “Look, I’m sorry for that. Just ignore me, okay? Thank you for being friendly.”

I turn to walk away. Halfway down the dock he calls out, “I didn’t tell anyone it was you this morning.” I stop, but I don’t look back.

“Thank you,” is all I can say. Before he has the chance to say another word, I walk away, following the path back to the house. I climb the stairs to the deck and pass the partiers, who are now in various stages of inebriation. Charlie is sitting on Santino’s lap on a patio chair. He hands her another shot glass; she tosses her head back and takes it. But the liquor must be too strong for her to handle. It’s either that or she’s over her limit because she spits it back out, coughing.

“Oh shit.” Santino laughs.

I storm over. “Come on, Charlie. You’ve had enough. It’s time for bed.” I grip her arm and she stands sluggishly, stumbling into me.