Perfectly Damaged
Page 71“I couldn’t sleep.”
Logan opens the door, allowing me in. “So you came all the way down here at two in the morning?”
I nod, walking past him and straight into his living area.
He shuts the door, locking up. “How’d you get here?” Logan asks with a yawn, walking my way.
“Taxi.”
He shakes his head. “You need to learn how to drive.”
“Will you teach me?” I ask nervously.
A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat. “Yes, one day. But for now can we sleep?” He reaches for my arm and drags me to his room.
“I’ve never been in here before.” I look around, taking in his very plain bedroom. There’s only a stream of streetlight shining through the blinds, so I can’t make out much. The only thing I can see clearly is his grey comforter.
“You are wide awake.” He yawns again, climbing into bed. He stretches on his back and waves me over. I place my duffle bag on the floor by the bed, then nestle and relax beside him. Logan snakes an arm around my shoulder, my head leaning against his chest. I wrap my leg over his and shut my eyes. This feels good. Peaceful. In his arms, just being held by him is where I always want to be.
I wake up to his touch, his hand softly stroking up and down my arm, his lips sliding along my hairline. I smile, inhale his natural scent, and exhale. My lashes flutter, struggling to open. “Morning,” he whispers.
“Mmm,” I moan.
I nod into his chest.
“Okay. I’ll pick you up after my shift. Are we still going to the lake house or do you want to hang out here?”
Shrugging, I keep my eyes shut, too tired to pry them open. “Whatever you want.”
His lips trace down, leaving a peck on my nose. “All right. We’ll go to the lake house.” His mouth leads back to my forehead where he leaves another caress. “We’ll stay the night.” I can sense him dip low before his lips touch my chin. “Then we’ll drive back Saturday to make it in time for dinner with your parents.”
I smile, nodding and agreeing with the entire plan. “Now get some rest,” he whispers. Leaving my side, he steps out of bed. As much as I’d prefer that he stay, I still feel like he’s here. With his scent lingering, I breathe in the comfort and drift back into a peaceful sleep.
“How was work?” Jenna asks, climbing into my truck. She places her duffle bag on her lap, buckles the seatbelt, then leans over and kisses me. “What’s the smile for?”
I nudge my head toward her lap. “What’s in the duffle bag? Carrying deadly weapons or something?”
“Ha. Ha. Funny,” she mocks. “No, I have my weekend stuff. It’s better than dragging around my suitcase.” She shrugs. “And I may have something for you in here.”
“Lingerie?” I grin, wiggling my brows.
“I didn’t know you were into wearing that kind of stuff. If I’d known, I would’ve purchased you a blue, skimpy lace number to bring out your eyes.”
“All right, smartass.”
“This is true.” I pull out of the parking lot and begin our drive to the lake house.
“It’s nothing big, just a little something you can use in the future,” she says as she unzips the black bag and starts rummaging through it. I reach a red traffic light and look over. Jenna hands me a clear plastic bag. I quickly peek in. Arching a brow, I meet her smile. “Gift bags and wrapping paper?”
She nods.
“You got me yellow gift bags and wrapping paper,” I clarify.
She nods again.
“Well, aren’t you the major wiseass.”
Her laugh bounces around my truck. “Well, it does benefit me.”
I steer with one hand, my other finds its way to hers. I bring our entwined fingers to my mouth and graze her soft knuckles against my lips. “Why yellow?” I mumble against her skin, my eyes on the road.
“It’s my favorite color.”
“Is that so?” I ask.
“Yep. It’s bright and pretty and cheerful.” She sighs. “It reminds me of the sun.” Jersey Girl pauses. Squeezing her hand around mine, she whispers, “I spent most of my life in the dark. Yellow allows me to visualize the light. Even if it’s just an image I paint in my head and not reality, I’ll take it.”
We’re walking hand-in-hand into the lake house when a chorus of applause goes off. I tear my eyes away from Logan and see Santino, Charlie, Bryson, and Blair are all in the living area. Everyone, except for Blair, is smiling and clapping. “It’s about damn time!” Santino hoots.
“You guys are dicks,” Logan states. He shakes his head, smiling good-naturedly, and guides me up the stairs. More whistles and cheering trails up when the door to Logan’s room closes behind us. “Sorry about that. If I’d known there was going be an audience, we would’ve stayed at my place,” Logan says as he walks across the room and places our bags on the ground.
“It’s okay.” I look down and fiddle with the edge of my white camisole. I’m suddenly nervous. I desperately want to continue what we started in my room yesterday before my father intruded, but I know we have to get past a few things before that can happen.
“So, what do you want to do?” he says, removing his boots. “Want to go out by the dock? In the lake?” He goes on, stripping off his T-shirt, “I’m gonna hop in the shower, wash off this sweat and sawdust. You’re more than welcome to join me,” he jokes with a broad smile. But we both know there’s seriousness hidden behind the humor.
“I’d like to talk.”
His grin weakens. “Is everything okay?”
I cross my arms, hugging myself. “Yeah. I… I just figured you probably have a lot of questions for me and I want to answer them all.”
“We have plenty of time for that. I don’t want you to feel pressured to spell out everything at once.”
“Logan, I’ve kept things from you for so long. I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore. Can you honestly say you don’t have any questions for me? About my disorder, my triggers, what started all of this?”