Breathless

Home > Other > Breathless > Page 7
Breathless Page 7

by Lex Martin


  I chuckle, and she sniffles and looks up. “Why are you laughing?”

  “You, squirt.” I kiss her forehead and smack her on the ass. “So we gonna eat or what? I’m hungry enough to try cooking for us, but I know it’ll suck.”

  “No, you’re banned from cooking. I got you.”

  I smile at my favorite girl. “I know you do.”

  10

  Joey

  Bridesmaids dresses may be notoriously ugly, but I’m stunned silent by the silky-smooth material cascading around me as I twirl in front of a three-way mirror. “This is the prettiest dress I’ve ever worn. I feel like a princess.”

  Tori claps behind me. “You look like a princess. That rosy color looks amazing on you, and the cut is so flattering. Maybe I should make you wear something uglier so you don’t upstage me,” she teases.

  Olga, our seamstress, prods my side. “I take in here. You skinnier than before.”

  Back in Florida, my aunt took me to a dressmaker to get my measurements so I could send them to Tori. I can’t imagine creating something like this simply by knowing a few numbers. This woman has some crazy skills.

  I shake my head. “It leaves room for me to enjoy a few tacos. This is such a beautiful dress, Olga. Thank you so much.”

  Once I’m back in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I wait for Olga and Tori at the front of the cozy shop, next to an old-fashioned cash register. With my debit card in hand, I brace myself for the final amount.

  “Everything is paid,” Olga calls to me as she ambles closer.

  That’s not right. “I only sent you the down payment, remember? I’m pretty sure there’s a balance.”

  “Bride has discount for big party. You all set.”

  Tori joins me and gives me a bright smile. “Let’s hit the road. Logan looks antsy.” My eyes dart outside to Logan, who’s leaning against the window, scrolling through his phone.

  “But—”

  She grabs my arm and yanks me forward while I call out to Olga, “If it’s a mistake and I owe you money, please let me know.”

  “Thanks, Olga! You’re the best!” Tori calls behind us as the door swings closed and practically pushes me toward Logan. “You guys really should get going before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for what? I thought we were hanging out tonight.”

  “Nope. You’re going with Logan. Have fun, and don’t forget to get sunscreen.” Tori wraps me in a hug and then hops in her truck and zooms off.

  I watch her speed away. “Did Tori just ditch me? That girl is part tornado, I swear.” I turn to Logan. “What am I missing?”

  Laughing, he puts his big hand on my shoulder and maneuvers me to the passenger side of his truck. “We got errands to run, home slice.”

  He’s freshly showered after working all day, and the ends of his dirty blond hair are damp and curl against his baseball cap. He smells so good, I could lick him. “Wedding errands? Cool. I’ve been wanting to do more to help.”

  I’d hoped to wake up early and have breakfast with Logan, except he was long gone by the time I got up, but at least we get to hang out now.

  I’m still dying a little from what he told me yesterday. Because Logan is not big on apologies. He’s more likely to do something nice for you than apologize.

  Once I’m loaded in the truck, Logan closes my door, and I watch him as he strolls to the other side.

  A breathless sigh rushes out of me as I study the broad set of his shoulders and the way those worn jeans hug his muscular thighs. He hasn’t shaved, and his jaw is covered in a golden scruff I want to rub against. And that smile he shoots me, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and looks a bit mischievous? I feel it all the way down to my toes.

  When he starts the truck, I flip on the radio and search for a good song. “Sorry that took so long. I wanted to see Tori’s dress, and we had to do my fitting too.”

  “It’s fine. I didn’t mind.”

  “She is going to be the most beautiful bride. I’m so excited for her and Ethan. They deserve to be happy after… everything.” He nods. If anyone knows what Ethan and Tori went through, it’s Logan. “I hope their big day is perfect.”

  I tap the dash twice with my fist, and Logan rolls his eyes because he thinks I’m ridiculous for using plastic to ‘knock on wood.’

  When we pull into Target, I sigh with delight. I might not have much money right now, but wandering through the aisles of this store always puts me in a good mood.

  We grab a cart, and I put on my no-nonsense hat. “Okay, what do we need? Did Tori give you a list?”

  “Sorta.” He pulls out his phone, stares at what I’m assuming is the list, and then back at me. He opens his mouth but closes it again.

  “Lay it on me. If we split it up, we can get this done quickly and be home for the end of the Astros game.” I know he wants to watch it even if he hasn’t mentioned it.

  And if I’m tickled pink by saying ‘home’ as though we live together, I’ll never admit it.

  You’re only here for two weeks, Crazy Daisy. Don’t get carried away.

  When he doesn’t say anything, I snatch his phone and study the list. My eyebrows go higher and higher with each item. “Tori wants us to get her tampons? Really? I mean, I don’t mind, but there’s light flow, medium, or heavy. Applicator or non-applicator. Scented or un—”

  With a pained groan, he holds up his hand. “Hold up there, Bitsy. That’s, um, that’s not for Tori.” He winces. “Those are things she wanted me to get you.”

  “Because I need tampons? Because she’s worried about my flow?” I’m laughing as his face turns redder and redder. “Wow, there is a first time for everything. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before.”

  “I’m not blushing. Men don’t blush.”

  “Whatever. Your face is overheating, and it’s hysterical.” I glance around at the store, biting my lower lip to stop smiling. I’m almost too shocked by the list to be embarrassed. “Can you please explain what’s going on?”

  He takes off his baseball cap and thrusts his hand into his hair, making it stand up on top. It’s adorable. “Tori thought that since you couldn’t get your stuff from your grandmother’s house you might need some essentials. Toiletries. Underwear. You know, since you probably haven’t heard from Silas.”

  My smile drops. “Oh.” I drop my head and stare at my flip-flops, a rush of emotion hitting me. “No, I haven’t heard from my brother.”

  How pathetic is that? The only member of my immediate family in the state of Texas has completely deserted me. Even if Silas is a turd on most days, the little girl in me who always looked up to him is crushed.

  This is bad karma. I blew off Logan. Now Silas is blowing me off. My heart hurts over both.

  Things with my brother are probably a lost cause. Silas does what he wants, and that’s that. He’s just like our father, who never gave a damn about anyone but himself.

  As for Logan, after what he said yesterday, I’m even more confused in some ways. Did I misunderstand that conversation I overheard last winter?

  “Hey.” Logan lifts my chin. “Let’s unpack the ‘Silas is a shithead’ issue later. Tori said girls like shopping and that retail therapy is supposed to make you fart rainbows or something.”

  I don’t expect to laugh, especially when I’m feeling this low, but that’s the effect he has on me.

  “I do like shopping, and I could use a few things, but you don’t have to do this with me. If you’d prefer to drop me off and come back in an hour, that’s fine. I could meet you out front when I’m done. I’m sure you have more important errands to run.”

  “Nope. My only goal tonight is to make sure you have everything you need for three days at the beach.”

  I’m way too excited about what that could mean.

  Spending time with Logan during my visit is the worst idea ever, because when sweet, thoughtful Logan comes out to play, I melt into a puddle of goo.

  It’s moments like thi
s over the years that endeared him to me even when I knew I shouldn’t get too attached. Because the second I hear about him sneaking off with some random girl, my heart will get pulverized.

  Because Logan will eventually get that itch, and he has several women sniffing around who would be more than happy to scratch it.

  I school my features and force that treacherous thought out of my mind. For now, for tonight, I want to enjoy hanging out with my best friend. Before everything blows up in my face. Because it will.

  “Plus,” he says, tugging on a strand of my hair, “this is my treat, so go crazy. Buy the whole store. Make me regret that time I shoved mud down your shirt when you were a kid.”

  Laughing, I nudge him out of the way and push the cart. “No way you’re paying. I can afford to get myself some toiletries, for Pete’s sake.” I think. “Although that was a mean thing to do. The mud was cold. Why’d you do it anyway?” He never would give me a straight answer.

  I stop the cart in front of a wall of swimsuits. Lordy, I hate squeezing my body into shiny strips of spandex.

  His footsteps stop right behind me. “You asked me what a boner was in front of Jessica Holliday.”

  I spin around. “I did no such thing.”

  “Did too, you little perv.”

  Suddenly, the memory is crystal clear. Cringing, I shrug. “I might have, but honestly, I didn’t even know what a boner was then.”

  His eyebrows lift. “Exactly. You didn’t know it was embarrassing for a thirteen-year-old boy in front of his crush.”

  “Aww.” I reach up and pat his chest. “Young love thwarted before it began.”

  He endures my teasing with a droll expression on his face, and I laugh harder. Returning my attention to the swimsuits, I toss three in the cart to try on, not really caring what they look like since I’ll wear a T-shirt over them anyway.

  As we meander down the store, I call out behind me. “Didn’t you hook up with Jessica a few years later anyway? You can’t complain if you still got laid.”

  He doesn’t respond right away.

  I hold up a pair of shorts. Cute.

  He coughs. “How’d you know about Jessica?”

  Psshh. “I know about all of your women. You forget we live in a small town that thrives on gossip. For some reason, people always feel the need to tell me about your lady-killer ways.” I pause to count on one hand. “Jessica Holliday, Emily Sanchez, Renee Caruso, that exchange student with the freckles. The chicks you screwed in the barn. I’d need more time to remember them all.”

  But never me. Even when I was old enough.

  That sobering thought plunks me right back in the friend zone. I may be enthralled by the attention Logan’s been giving me since I got home, but I can’t let my head float away with grandiose ideas.

  When he doesn’t respond, I turn around and am caught off guard by his stormy expression. Why is he pissed? I decide to backtrack, not wanting to ruin the evening. We’ve been having fun, and I want to get back to that. Despite his history with girls, it’s a topic we rarely discuss.

  I open my mouth with the craziest thing I can think of.

  “Did you know your mom explained to me what a boner was?” I make the goofiest face I can and then cover my face, because when I think back to what happened, I can’t believe I was so clueless.

  It takes a few seconds for that to sink in, and then he shakes his head, amused. “Jesus. I knew you and Bev were close, but I really had no idea. I’m afraid to ask how that came about.”

  He only calls his mom by her first name when he’s being extra cheeky, and I smile to myself.

  We resume our stroll through the store, and I reach for some new flip-flops. “Well, my mother never had the birds and bees convo with me, and I got my period for the first time when I was really young, a few days after that mud incident, actually.” It’s all coming back to me now. “So when Bev found me crying outside of the school because I legit thought I was dying, she took me to the ranch, cleaned me up, explained pads and tampons and how to use them, and answered my questions. Of course, since that boner conversation with you was fresh in my mind, I had to ask.”

  I brave a glance at him, and the soft look in his eyes makes my heart race.

  “You never told me that.”

  I shrug. “I was embarrassed. That’s not something you tell—” The boy you’ve always loved.

  “I get it.”

  His eyes are so blue, so exquisite, I have to look away, so I don’t see the hug coming.

  When I’m wrapped in his arms, I melt against him. “What’s this for?” My arms automatically wrap around his waist.

  “You’ve never had it easy. Ever. But you’d never know it because life never knocks you down. I admire that about you, Jo.” His voice in my ear sends chills down my arms. “And the whole time, I was a spoiled brat. It’s amazing you wanted to be friends with me.”

  When he lets me go, I realize how much I needed that hug. “I don’t remember it that way. I seem to recall needing someone to look out for me and you wanting the job for some reason.” Because even before Silas started treating me like I was poo on his shoe, he never had my back. Not like Logan.

  There I go again with intense conversations. Wanting to lighten the mood, I tell him the rest of the story.

  “You know, your mom handled my female issues like a champ. I’m not sure if I could’ve kept a straight face while explaining that a ‘penis gets engorged when aroused.’” I chuckle into my hand.

  “Christ. She said that?”

  We’re both laughing as I nod.

  Since we’re near the changing room, I grab the swimsuits and other clothes out of my cart. “I’ll just be a sec.”

  “You gonna let me see what you get this time?”

  “Did you really want to see my bridesmaid dress?” Tori kicked him out of the shop before I tried it on.

  “Yes, ma’am. And now I wanna see what I’m buying.”

  “Shut up. You’re not paying.”

  “We’ll see.” He swirls his finger in the air. “Get to it. And if you don’t show me the choices, I’m buying everything.”

  I roll my eyes and take the changing room closest to the entrance, so we can keep talking. “Which color?” Staring at the swimsuits, I realize I should’ve put more thought into this when I was standing in front of a huge rack of choices. “Hot pink, baby blue, or orange?” Ugh, I hate orange. Why did I grab this monstrosity? “Ixnay on the orange. It’s hideous. I’m not even going to try it on.”

  “Then why’d you grab it?” he yells back.

  “Because you were distracting me. I couldn’t focus.” I can never focus on anything around him.

  “My vote is for hot pink.”

  I change into it, leaving my undies on, because trying on swimsuits is kinda gross. Thankfully, I’m wearing one of those seamless thongs.

  “Any day now,” he calls out.

  Like he cares what I get. I’m laughing when I pull my T-shirt over the two-piece. I turn around to make sure my booty isn’t hanging out. My cousin Dawn says my head is messed up because my father was so strict about my clothes when I was growing up. I tend to cover myself up.

  “The pink is fine. I’m gonna get it.”

  “Josephine. Get out here.”

  I peek out of the dressing room and smile at the nice attendant folding a mountain of clothes at a long counter who’s been listening to us yammer back and forth. “Can I show him my outfit before he gets any more temperamental?”

  She smiles. “Sure.”

  Hesitantly, I shuffle out toward Logan. Thank goodness I shaved the important bits today.

  He glances up from his phone. “I can’t see the suit, which means I’m buying all of them, even the orange one.”

  “You are such a pain.” I strip off my shirt before I overthink it.

  I stare at my feet. At Logan’s work boots. At the rack over his shoulder. Finally, I get the courage to look him in the eyes.

  But he’s
still busy checking me out.

  My nipples pebble under his stare.

  Coughing, I motion behind me. “I’ll go try the other one.”

  When he doesn’t say anything, I figure he doesn’t like the pink suit. Once I get into the blue two-piece, I don’t bother to put on the T-shirt. I don’t want to prolong this. He’ll just make me strip it off anyway. The thought makes my stomach flip.

  While I’d love nothing more than for him to fall at my feet in love with how I look, I have a better shot of getting struck in the head by a meteor.

  This time, I throw caution to the wind and pull my hair out of the ponytail as I strut out the dressing room because I’m so tired of being haunted by ghosts. My dad and his strict rules can take a flying leap.

  Using an über-deep voice, I purr, “What do you think?” How do those Instagram girls do this? I’m laughing and tossing my hair with my mock model moves as the attendant gives me a thumbs up.

  When Logan doesn’t say anything, I stop joking around. “So… Not the blue?”

  I can’t read his expression, but he stares another long minute and then returns to his phone. “Get them both.”

  “I don’t need two swimsuits. That’s wasteful.” Tucking my hands behind me, I add, “I’m leaning toward the pink one. The rear on this one is a little indecent.”

  He makes a face like he doesn’t believe me. “Turn around.”

  “What? No.” I was planning to shuffle backward toward the dressing room while he was glued to his phone. Ugh, why did I bring it up?

  “How am I supposed to make an informed decision, Josephine?”

  When did this man become so difficult? I turn around slowly. Wait. Did he just groan? Now I’m hearing things.

  “See. Indecent.” Nobody needs to see that much butt cheek. I spin the other way and try not to fidget under his stare.

  He licks his bottom lip. “What if you got the pink top and those bottoms to match?”

  “You like these bottoms?”

  “I think all of mankind will like those bottoms.”

  My face burns because I have some junk in my trunk. “I do like donuts.”

 

‹ Prev