The Mistake
Page 88“What?” I interrupt in shock. “What makes you think you’ll lose me?”
He looks my way, his blue eyes filled with regret. “Because you’ll wake up one day and realize you deserve better. Don’t you see? Last night was a preview of what it’s going to be like. We’ll have plans, but I’ll end up having to work late, or my dad will get wasted and fall down the stairs, and then I’ll have to cancel on you, or worse, keep you waiting like I did last night. How long do you think you’ll put up with that?”
Disbelief hurtles through me. “You honestly think I’m going to break up with you because you might be late a couple times?”
Logan doesn’t respond, but his stony expression tells me that yes, he does believe that.
“Doesn’t your brother have a girlfriend he’s been with forever?” I point out.
“Kylie,” he mumbles.
“Well, did Kylie break up with him? No, she didn’t. Because she loves him, and she’s willing to stand by him no matter what.” I’m angry now. So angry I shoot to my feet, fighting the urge to smack some sense into him. “So what makes you think I won’t stand by you?”
His silence irks the living fuck out of me.
“You know what, John? Screw you.” I struggle to control my breathing. “Clearly you don’t know me at all if you think I’m the kind of person who would give up on a relationship the moment it hits a few obstacles.”
He finally answers, his voice low and sullen. “Can we please not talk about this anymore?”
Un-fucking-believable.
“You’re right. We won’t talk about it anymore.” I grab my purse from where I dropped it on the floor and sling the strap over my shoulder. “Because I’m leaving.”
That gets his attention. Frowning, he slowly rises to his feet. “Grace—”
I cut him off. “No. I’m not listening to this bullshit anymore. I’m going to leave you to your sulking, and maybe when you’re finished with your one-man pity party, we can actually have a rational conversation.” I’m spitting mad as I march toward the door. “And just in case my reaction to your idiocy didn’t make it clear where I stand with us, then let me spell it out for you.” I whirl around to scowl at him. “I love you, you stupid jackass.”
Then I storm out of his room and slam the door behind me.
*
Logan
It takes me much, much longer than it should to snap out of the shocked trance I’ve fallen into. My mouth keeps opening and closing, my eyelids blinking at a rapid pace as I stare at the door Grace just tore out of.
She’s absolutely right. I am a jackass. And I did doubt her commitment to our relationship. And—
Wait. She loves me?
My mouth opens again. And stays open. Agape, in fact, because her last words have finally registered in my extremely idiotic brain. She loves me. Even after I indicted her for a hypothetical future break-up and pretty much told her she was going to desert me when the going gets tough, she still told me she loved me.
What the hell is the matter with me?
I bolt out of my room and take the stairs two at a time. There’s no way Grace could have called a cab or made it to the bus stop yet, which means she’s probably on the front stoop or nearing the end of the street. Which means I can still catch her.
I skid into the front hall like a goddamn cartoon character, only to freeze when I find Garrett at the door. Then I hear a car engine from outside, and my heart hits the floor like a sack of bricks.
“Hannah’s driving her home,” Garrett says quietly.
I curse in frustration, flinging open the door in time to see the retreating taillights of Hannah’s car. Damn it.
I spin around and hurry back upstairs, where I grab my phone and dial Grace’s number. After it goes straight to voice mail, I shoot off a quick text.
Me: Baby, please come back. I’m such an ass. Need to make this right.
There’s a long delay. Five seconds. Ten. And then she texts back.
Her: I need some time to digest your stupidity. I’ll call u when I’m ready to talk.
Damn it. I drag both hands over my scalp, fighting the urge to strangle myself to death. Why do I always screw up when it comes to this girl?
“Wasn’t gonna lecture you.” He shrugs. “Just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
I sink down on the edge of the bed, slowly shaking my head. “Not in the slightest. I fucked up again.”
“Damn right you did.” My best friend props his elbow against the wall and sighs. “Wellsy and I heard her reaming you out.”
“I think the whole neighborhood heard it,” comes Tucker’s voice. He enters my room and leans against the dresser. “Except maybe Dean, but that’s because he’s balls-deep in a puck bunny down in the living room.”
I groan. “Seriously? Why can’t he ever fuck in his room?”
“Do we really want to discuss that perv’s sex life?” Tuck counters. “Because I don’t think that should be at the top of your priority list right now.”
He makes a good point. At the moment, my only priority is fixing things with Grace.