by R. C. Martin
“You’re not an Atheist. There’s hope for you yet,” I half tease, letting go of her hand and sliding mine around her waist.
“I’m not a virgin,” she says as she absentmindedly fidgets with the collar of my t-shirt. “I know you are. Daph told me,” she adds with a small smile.
“Do you think I’d judge you for that? I’m well aware that, these days, I’m an anomaly. It’s my choice, though, and I would never force it on anyone. It’s just something that’s important to me. I practically walked in on my sister having sex two days ago. I’m not an idiot. You haven’t been able to get ahold of her because your plan worked exactly like you thought it would. I’m not judging her and I won’t judge you.
“Everyone has a past, Logan. It doesn’t matter how many guys you’ve slept with so long as you’re willing to wait for me. I’d wait for you. You deserve to be waited on.”
“Only one,” she speaks barely above a whisper. I pull her closer when I notice her eyes are glassy with tears.
“What?”
“I’ve only ever had sex with one guy. Mack. I know everyone thinks I’m some slut, but I’m not. Sex—it’s so intimate and personal and I just…I’m not as easy as I look. I’ve done a lot of things with a lot of guys, but I’ve only ever had sex with one—the one who broke my heart and slept with the skank who became my best friend.” She frees an airy laugh as a couple tears spill from her eyes.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because you’re fighting for me and I didn’t know if you would. Because I’m sure I could list at least a half a dozen more reasons why we probably wouldn’t work and I’m afraid you’ll have a counterargument for every one, which will only make me like you more. Because for all the things I’m good at, I’m learning that dealing with the bitch that comes with relationships makes me feel almost powerless. Because I want this to be real…and it scares me how much I want it. I…I…”
“What?”
She shuts her eyes tight and a few more tears escape. “I want to be reckless with you,” she admits. “I want to stop pretending, Rome. And I want you to want the same thing.” She chokes on a sob, turning her face into my pillow. “Shit. I can’t even look at you when I say it.”
“Hey,” I murmur, reaching up to dry her cheeks. “Look at me. It’s okay—just look at me.” I wait for her to do as I ask before I continue. “I do. I like you—more than a sane person should,” I say lightly. She coughs out a laugh, halfheartedly smacking my chest as she sniffles. “I don’t want to pretend I feel any other way. I want to try with you. I can’t promise you very much. I can’t promise that we won’t fight. I can’t promise that we won’t break up. I can’t promise that we won’t ever hurt each other.”
“Then what can you promise me?” she asks with a pout.
I smile at the sight and bring my lips so close to hers that I can feel her faint, nervous breaths. “I can promise that I’ll kiss you when you’re sad, laugh with you when you’re happy, hold your hand when you need encouragement, and dance with you when you want to celebrate. I can promise to talk to you every day and bicker with you when you’re grumpy. I can promise to give whatever you wish to take and take whatever you wish to give for as long as we still want each other.”
“Okay. Yeah. Those are pretty good promises.” I can feel her lips turn up into a smile as they brush against mine. “I can promise you a couple things, too.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“I promise to flirt with you shamelessly and as often as possible. I promise to never invite you over for dinner, unless I’m ordering takeout. I promise to support your yoga habit every Saturday. I promise to give you a hard time about hating coffee until I convert you—”
“You’ll never convert me,” I protest.
“That’s what you think,” she says with an airy giggle. “I can be very persuasive.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yes!” she gasps, pulling away from me so that she can look me in the eye. “Considering the way I totally dominated in my last bet, I’m thinking I can take you down in no time,” she gloats with a small smile.
“Fine. It’s on. What are the terms?”
“Simple. I bet you that I’ll have you drinking coffee by Christmas.”
“Four months? You think I’m that much of a pushover?”
“Not at all! I just think I’m that good. So, do we have ourselves a deal?”
“Game on, babe,” I agree, holding out a hand to shake on it.
She shakes her head instead and leans toward me. “To seal a bet with your girlfriend, you have to kiss,” she says softly. I’m amused by her demand, but more than happy to comply. Fifteen minutes ago, I walked into this room a single man and now—for the first time in four years—I guess I’m not anymore. It’s a strange feeling. It’s a good feeling.
No—it’s an extraordinary feeling.
I didn’t see her coming. Not before the deal we made for Daphne’s sake, not after. I wasn’t looking for her, either. She’s right. There probably is a list of reasons why it doesn’t make sense for us to be a couple, but that’s part of the appeal. She’s an adventure that I’d be a fool not to take. It doesn’t feel wrong, it doesn’t feel forced, it feels good.
She’s not Katie and she’s not Addie. She’s in a category all her own—a force of nature to be reckoned with. Maybe I am crazy to go for it with her; or maybe this will end up being the best decision I’ve ever made. Only God knows, and I won’t pretend to know if this is a God thing or not. I only choose to believe that all things work together for the good of those who love Him. I’m not going to put God in a box and say that we don’t work in His plan because we’re different. My heart wants what my heart wants and for the first time in a long time, it’s not alone in what it wants…
“Rome?”
I answer her with a kiss, my heartbeat picking up a notch when she parts her lips as an invitation to go further. I open my mouth around hers and she emits a tiny hum of satisfaction. When our tongues meet, we’re both done for. We make out until our lips are plump and raw and our eyes are heavy with sleep.
“Rome—Roman—wake up.” I’m roused from my slumber at the feel of Logan’s soft lips as she kisses her way around my face. Her long hair tickles my neck as she does so. “Come on, handsome, wake up!”
“What time is it?” I sigh, peeking open one eye. What I see encourages me to open both. She’s already dressed and made up for work. The collared, button-up top she’s got on is white and rolled up around her forearms. At first glance, it looks like she’s forgotten a few buttons, but when I look harder, I can see that there are no more buttons.
Her shirt is tucked into her skirt, which hugs her small waist and flows freely until just above her knees. It’s a peach color, which coordinates with her extravagant teal necklace and matching bracelet. Oh. And her heels—of course, her heels are peach, too.
“It’s just after seven,” she answers, reminding me that I asked a question.
Suddenly, I’m not at all interested in the time. “You’re wearing that to work?”
She looks down at herself and then cocks an eyebrow at me. “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Yeah—don’t you have that thing with Judah today?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.
“Yes. What’s your point?” She presses her fists against her hips and I shake my head as I look her up and down once more.
“You just—you look beautiful, is all.”
She drops her hands and relaxes her shoulders before she grins at me. She then sits on the edge of the bed and runs her fingers through my hair. “You should know that jealous Roman is my favorite.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t even try and deny it, Double-O. I won’t believe you. And the next time you want to tell me how pretty I am, you can just say it, you know? You don’t have to get all alpha male on me.”
I sigh as I push myself all the way up into a seated position. I cup my hands
around her face and kiss her. “Can we start over? Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she replies before returning my kiss with her own. “You should get up.”
“You said it’s seven? Why do I have to get up? Why are you up? Neither of us has anywhere to be until nine.”
“Actually, I wanted to drop by my place and check out the kitchen. Then I was thinking we could stop for a cup of coffee at Little Bird. Daphne should be opening this morning. She texted last night and told me Brandon asked if they could switch shifts today; anyway, I don’t think I can go another day without seeing her. So, will you come with me? Remember it’s your real girlfriend asking, not your pretend one.”
The look on her face when she calls herself my girlfriend causes a smirk to tug at the corner of my mouth. I can see it in her eyes that she’s apprehensive that I might have changed my mind after a night of sleep. The longer I sit without speaking, the more antsy she gets. It’s subtle, as she has a remarkably impressive poker face; but she’s torn down too many walls for me. Now, I can see right through her.
When I can’t stand to leave her hanging any longer, I kiss her again. For real, this time. She practically melts against me as she slides her arms around my neck. We both get lost for a minute. “I can be ready in ten,” I assure her as I pull away.
“Okay.” She stands and heads for the door and then turns back to address me just before she crosses the threshold. “You should also know that I think first-thing-in-the-morning Roman has horrible breath.”
“What? It’s not that bad!” I argue, casting a playful scowl at her.
“It so is,” she laughs.
“Then why’d you kiss me?” I challenge.
“Because, bad breath or not, you’re one hell of a kisser.” She winks at me and then leaves me to get dressed.
We’re on our way out a quarter after seven and walking into her place at half past. When we stopped by on Saturday, the kitchen was completely gutted; now, it’s just about done. The floor has been retiled and the walls have been repainted. She’s also had a stone overlay put in on the backsplash between the counter and the cabinets. All the appliances have been replaced and everything is stainless steel, all the way down to the knobs on every dark brown door. There’s a new light fixture that hangs over the breakfast bar and an awesome chrome chandelier that hangs where she plans on putting her new dining room furniture. She’s so pleased with the way it looks, she says she might even learn how to cook so that she can take full advantage of it.
I stand back as I let her do a walk through. I watch as she runs her fingers across every surface, as if she’s introducing herself to her design come to life. She makes note of a couple things to bring up with the contractors before they’re done and I realize that this is Logan in her element.
For all the times that I’ve seen her saunter into the bar, looking hot and confident as ever, I never noticed how much of that wasn’t real. She has the power to own any room she walks into—but the bar is not where she comes alive. She comes alive in the rooms that she creates. Sure, flirty Logan is one version of her. In her attempt to protect herself from getting hurt, she hid everything else. It made her appear as more of a fantasy than a real woman. The woman who stands before me in this moment, hot and confident as ever—but also intelligent and talented, focused and meticulous, passionate and sexy—this is who Logan really is.
“Okay, I’m ready to go,” she says, hooking her purse in the crook of her arm. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against me. “You’re amazing, did you know that?”
“I had a hunch,” she says as she smiles at me. She lifts one of her shoulders in a coy shrug but I think I see a hint of a blush tinting her cheeks. “It makes me happy that you think so, though.”
“Good,” I say with a kiss.
Since it’s still pretty early, we have no difficulty finding parking in Old Town. We park near the yoga studio and walk over to the cafe. As soon as we enter, Logan drops my hand and runs for my sister. Daphne squeals when she spots her and comes to meet her halfway. They crash into each other and laugh while they hold one another.
“I think they might have missed each other.”
I turn at the sound of Trevor’s voice. “I think you’re right. Maybe we should have scheduled a play date over the weekend,” I jest as I go to join him at his table.
“Yeah. We’ll have to remember that for next time.”
“Christ—I have so much to tell you!” I say as Logan and I finally pull away from each other.
“Me, too!” she beams. “You first.”
“No way,” I insist. From the moment that I spotted her face, I knew that I’d never seen her more happy. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to have a fantastic weekend and I want to hear all about hers. “You’re wearing a new smile today and I want to know why.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, in a failed attempt to hide her grin, and then stands beside me as she wraps her arm around my shoulders. “See that drop dead gorgeous guy over there?” she asks, pointing at the table where Rome and Trev are seated watching us.
“I’m assuming you mean my brother,” I say with a laugh.
“Your brother, my boyfriend, same thing.”
My jaw falls open as I stare at Rome, and then at Logan, and then at Rome. “I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head in an attempt to find my words. “You’re telling me that my brother, who hasn’t had a girlfriend since before I even knew you existed, and my best friend, who hasn’t had a boyfriend in just as long—are now calling themselves a couple, after four years of practically hating each other?”
“That about sums it up, yeah,” she says with a nod.
I knit my eyebrows together and gape at her. “You’re good. No offense, LG, but if there was one guy I thought you could never win over, it was Roman. I don’t know how you did it. I’m impressed.”
“You and me both, babe. You and me both.”
I watch her as she looks over at Roman and flashes him a bashful smile.
Bashful—who knew she was capable of such an expression?
“I’m happy for you guys. Really. I’m glad that you finally see in each other what I’ve known to be there all along.”
“Okay, okay—enough with the gushy stuff, I want the juicy stuff,” she says, folding her arms across her chest as she pins her eyes on me. “How many times have you guys done it in the past seventy-two hours?”
“Logan!” I gasp.
She throws her head back in laughter before she says, “First, don’t act surprised that I asked. Second, don’t act like you haven’t counted. As your best friend, the one who gave you five million pep-talks last week, I deserve to know.”
“Alright—fine. Eight. Nine—no wait, ten? I think maybe ten.”
“Aww! My little skank is all grown up. I’m so proud,” she coos. “So, I’m guessing he’s pretty good…?”
“Let’s just say, you have a lot to look forward to. When you’re ready to start having sex again, if your partner is half as good as Trevor, he’s a million times better than Mack.”
“Really?” she practically purrs as she looks over at the boys again.
“Ew! Gross—don’t look over there if you’re thinking about having sex with my brother.”
She giggles as she waves her hand, swatting away my comment. “We’re not there yet. Anyway, can I assume that you’re officially a couple now? Finally!”
“Actually,” I pause and glance over at Trevor. He’s talking to Roman and doesn’t notice me admiring him from across the room. “He asked me to move in with him.”
“What?!” Logan shrieks, snatching back my attention. “Holy shit, Daph!”
When she turns to look over her shoulder at Trevor, my eyes follow hers. For a second, I’m distracted by his blue-green stare and the fireworks I feel in my stomach when he winks at me. We stayed up half the night talking about me moving in. I know that I want to sit
down with Logan and have a real conversation about it, but I’m so excited and I can hardly wait to start my new life with him.
“Geez, Skank—I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy and this sad at the same time.”
“Hey, don’t be like that,” I say, taking both of her hands in mine. “I’m not abandoning you.”
“No, I know! I want you to go. I’d kick your ass if you didn’t. I’ll just miss you.”
“Well, I’m not moving out tomorrow.”
“Good! In fact, tomorrow night is going to be a roomie night. No boys allowed. We’ll unpack the kitchen, you’ll cook dinner, we’ll have wine, and we’ll catch each other up on all the details we don’t have time to share right now.”
“It’s a date.”
“Perfect. Now, do you think you can whip up a couple drinks for me and my man before I head into work? Oh—and make mine a double. I think I’m going to have an interesting day ahead of me.”
“Hmm, do tell.” As I make my way back behind the bar, to start one double latte and one chai, I listen to Logan fill me in on her plans with Judah today. From what I know about the guy, he’s like the male version of her—or, I guess, the old, single version of her. A few weeks ago, I’d feel like it was my obligation as her best friend to dole out a warning for her to be careful. I know Logan and I know that she would have appreciated the challenge of out-flirting someone like him.
Today, however, I’m not worried about her at all. LG is one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met in my life. It’s true that I’ve never known her as a girlfriend, but I don’t need any more proof than our friendship to know that she would never do anything to break Roman’s trust. Besides, the way she keeps turning around to peek at my brother every two seconds informs me that she’ll probably have a hard time thinking about anything else today.