Logan rubbed my arm when I shivered. “What? Are you cold?”
“Nuh uh.”
Logan's hand rested on my arm, but the bouncer put me on alert. After my dream and this guy, I didn't want Logan to let go. I wished Eric was there. He'd know just what to say to calm me down. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Okay, what should we do? You wanna go watch the band or get something to take home?”
Logan's hand slowly made its way down my arm. As much as I needed the contact, I still didn't want to give him the wrong idea. My thoughts were on Eric and the scary bouncer, not him.
“Let's find somewhere to sit for a few minutes.” I looked around for an empty spot. They were few and far between. Finally, I eyed one on the edge of the stage area. “How about over there?”
“That works. You lead the way.” Logan fell in behind me while I wound through the droves of people.
When we neared the spot, I stopped and watched the first band warm up while Logan weaved around people and caught up. As soon as he did, I took a few more steps forward, sat down on the grass, and leaned back on my hands to take in some sun.
“Do you want anything?” Logan asked from above me.
“Sure, water would be good.” I squinted from the sun. If he was offering, why not take him up on it? Some alone time would be good anyway.
The show was so much better for people watching than New Orleans. I liked sitting back and observing human nature. It was something I’d done a lot from my bedroom window in our apartment on the Upper East Side of New York. I remembered being little and wishing I knew how to draw. That was when I knew I shared my dad's passion of art, but not in the same way. I wanted to draw them, Dad dressed them. Now I was getting the chance to fulfill my dream. I drew not for their clothing, but to see their expressions. To feel the emotions come off the paper. There was so much to discover in a simple pencil and paper drawing. New Orleans had wonderful settings, as well as an eclectic group of locals interspersed with tourists. I spent hours sitting on a bench on the river walk, pad and pencil in hand using people as inspiration.
This park was full of motivation, sending my muse into a frenzy. I catalogued the different shades of pinks, blues, and oranges.
When hands rested softly on my shoulders I snapped around. “What?”
Logan smirked, his ocean blues lingering just above my head. “Let's go walk around. I wanna see what they have here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Hello?” I paused, but couldn't hear anything. I checked the call display to see if I still had signal. “Eric, hold on. I've got to get somewhere where I can hear you.” When I moved away from the crowd I replied, “Hey.”
“Hey, princess.” Eric cleared his throat. “I, um, hope you don't mind me calling. It's just that I wanted to check on you. I miss you.”
“No, I don't mind your calling. But I don't believe you just wanted to hear my voice. You just heard my voice this afternoon when I called. What's the real reason, Eric?”
“Seriously, it is the only reason I called. Why did you go without me?”
“Sounds like you had more on your mind than that, if you’re asking me questions. I can't have this conversation with you right now. I'm at the concert with Logan, and I'm enjoying myself. I have no intention of ruining it by fighting or arguing with you. It's a much needed distraction after what happened earlier.”
“That's not…I mean…I don't want to argue either. I want to talk. I haven't had a chance to talk to you about why we are in the situation we are in.”
“I promise we'll make time when I get home. I miss you too, by the way.”
“Okay, so I'll wait longer.”
“It won't be too much longer. I'll be home tomorrow, and we'll talk. I swear. I'm going to go back to Logan now.”
“Bye, princess. Oh, hey, when does your flight land?”
“Tomorrow at three. We're flying American Airlines and we have a layover in Dallas. I'll call you when I get in. Bye.”
I hung up the phone and walked back to where Logan stood waiting for me.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, it's fine.” I nodded toward the now empty stage. “Looks like they're done.”
“Yep. Ready to make our way back?”
“Not really. I'm kind of hungry. You wanna try to find some place to grab something to eat?”
“Sure.” He held out his hand, and I took it.
We left the concert through the slow progression of people hand-in-hand and searched for a place to eat. Sparky's was the first twenty-four hour diner we found. It was the opposite direction from the hotel, which is why we hadn't found it the night before.
There wasn't a hostess, so I picked a booth against the front of the building near a window. Here, the buildings were a mix of old and new, rustic and innovative. The diner was one of the old buildings in the area with metal bar stools that had red plastic seats. The booths were all different colors, ours being sea foam green. The smell of pancakes and hamburgers permeated the air.
A waitress arrived soon after we sat down. The menus were already on the table, and Logan and I quickly decided what we wanted to eat. The waitress, Val, hastily took our order and wandered off to the kitchen. Dissipating energy left me feeling drained. My eyelids drooped with the full weight of the concert weighing me down. I scooted away from the window to be closer to Logan and rested my head on his shoulder while we waited for our food. Logan brushed hair out of my face just as our food arrived.
I dug into my pancakes. “Mmmm, these are good. Gotta love diner food.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you eat anything other than salad.” Logan grinned.
“Ha. Then you haven't paid much attention. I'm a junk food addict.”
“So what did Eric want?”
I shook my head. “Uh uh. We aren't talking about that.”
Logan left the subject alone, which surprised me, and we finished eating without much conversation. It was nice. We laughed and cracked jokes. When we finished, Logan paid, and we meandered back to the hotel. He reached for my hand once outside, and I pulled away. We'd held hands on our way out of the concert, but that was only because I didn't want to lose him in the crowd.
“Why do you do that?”
“Why do I do what?” I asked.
“Shy away from me one minute and rub against me the next.” Logan shook his head. “I don't understand you sometimes, Carissa.”
“You're not the first to say that,” I murmured.
“So...”
“I dunno why I do it. Because I forget that you want more than I can offer, I guess. I hold your hand or sleep on your shoulder because you're my friend, and I trust you to not hurt me. It doesn't always have to mean that I'm looking for more.” I didn't mean to snap, but once the words started, I couldn't stop. “Logan, I know you have feelings for me. I can't return them, though. What I want from you is a friendship. With everything going on with my parents and Eric, you and Alec are the only two people I have right now that haven't pissed me off.”
“What do you mean, what's going on with your parents?”
“Nothing. They just…well, they seem to think it necessary I have a bodyguard all the time.”
“Now I'm curious. Why? I mean, I know your dad's a big shot designer and all, but isn't a bodyguard a little over the top?”
“A little? Try a lot. They say it's for my safety, but it's really more for control.”
“Your safety? What do you mean?”
“Ahh, the story I never tell. So, when I was five I decided I was done with my parents. Dad was at his office and Mom was supposed to be taking care of me. For the most part they didn't do a great job of keeping an eye on me, always too busy schmoozing buyers or building a reputation.
“That fateful day, the last day of my freedom, the nanny called in sick. I was mad that I didn't get everything I wanted for my birthday—spoiled, I know—so, like any other five-year-old, once my bags were
packed I toted them down the stairs and walked out the front door. It would have been something to laugh at later on in life, except that no one noticed I was gone until that evening when Dad came home from the office.”
The chilled air made me shiver and I rubbed the top of my arms.
“Anyway my frantic parents called the nanny, police, Dad's office, and then they walked the streets of New York for hours. They tried to talk to the neighbors, but no one wanted to get out of their house after they'd settled in for the evening. They found me in a local restaurant down the road from the house. I'd fallen asleep in a booth in the corner holding onto my favorite tiger.
“There ya have it, the story of my bodyguard. Like I said, they say it’s safety. But in reality, neither Mom nor Dad wanted to take the time to be a real parent and pay attention. So they paid for someone else to do it.”
Logan didn't say anything for a while. “I see.”
We walked in silence for a little while. It was too dark to make out our surroundings, but I still enjoyed listening to the nighttime sounds. Everything was different here. Rather than crickets and toads, the wind carried the sounds of horns honking and engines revving. It was similar to New York, and I realized that I didn't miss it at all. In fact, I missed New Orleans. It still had cars and typical noises of a city, but it was different.
“Why don't you date?” I asked Logan.
“You really have to ask?”
“Don't tell me you haven't dated because you're attracted to me. There are plenty of guys I'm attracted to, but I haven't put off dating.”
“Carissa, what I've felt for you is beyond attraction. But before you say anything, I understand you're seeing Eric.” He stopped and pulled me around so we were face to face. “You suspected he was working for your parents to spy on you. If I didn't know you, I'd question your intelligence. But I do, and I don't get it.”
“You don’t have to get it. Aren’t you two supposed to be friends?” When he grunted I took that as acknowledgement and continued, “There are so many things you don't know about me, not because I've kept them secret, but because I don't talk about them. Moving has changed me. It's made me a better person, happier, freer. You and Alec don't really spend much time together without me, but if you asked him if I was different than when we lived in New York, he'd say yes.”
In New York, I was what some might have considered a hermit. Didn’t go out with anyone other than Alec. He tried to drag me out of the house at least two or three times a week. I usually agreed to once a week. Traveling with a bodyguard was a real pain in the ass. It was so much easier to stay at home most of the time.
“Eric’s past isn't rainbows and unicorns either. As for his big, bad, scary personality that we’ve seen glimpses of, whether or not you believe me, he's developed that for a reason. I won't say any more because it's not my place.”
I stopped in front of Logan, my fisted on my hips.
“Hear this, Logan. You and I are friends. I love you like a brother, but I won't let you continue asking me about Eric and expecting an explanation to my choice of dating him. We all have a past. Some have had it worse than others. Don't mess up a good thing because you are stubborn and jealous.”
“So you do love him. Does he make you feel special? Pay attention to you?”
I shrugged. Talking about Eric, defending him when I didn’t have to, made me realize how stupid it was to continue denying how I felt. No longer could I kid myself. I wasn’t falling in love with him, I’d already landed. But Eric would hear the words first, not Logan.
“Not that I should answer this, but if it means you'll lay off, then I'll tell you. Yes, he does make me feel special. He tries to make me happy, even when he knows he screwed up. Eric is determined to work through his past, and mine, to make it work for us.”
I couldn't tell if my words had an effect on Logan, if the answer was enough to get him to back off. It didn't matter though. I'd meant what I said about Eric. Logan had to make a decision on whether or not he was okay with our friendship.
“Eric wants our relationship to work. So much so that he's willing to do anything for me. When we’re together I get to spend time with a man like I've never known before. Don't get me wrong, he's intense, but that stretches to everything. And that's all I'm going to say.”
“Good. I'm happy to hear that. All I care about is if he’s good to you, and it sounds like he is.” Logan swept his lips across my cheek, took my hand in his, and walked toward the hotel. As we parted for our rooms, he smiled. “By the way, I met someone. She's really nice. When we get back I want you to meet her.”
I grinned and opened my door, but Logan wasn't done.
“Carissa.”
“Yes, Logan?”
“I won't lose you as a friend. You and Eric seem good for each other. Thank you for coming on this trip me. You asked about Eric and I being friends. We are, and will continue to be. But you come first in my world. Seeing you upset like you have been worries me. So, yeah, I had to make sure. That’s all.”
I’d never understand guys and their definition of friendships and loyalty. It made absolutely no sense to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The flight home was just as strenuous as the flight to San Francisco. Logan was as polite as ever, and I continuously thanked him. The trip turned out to be exactly what I needed. It had been a chance to get away.
While we waited for the plane to taxi to the gate, my thoughts wandered to Eric. I'd missed him while we were gone. Yeah, I was still mad, and no I wasn't ready to jump into his arms...okay, maybe I was. Those arms were so big and warm, and well...how could I not want him to wrap me up and make my worries disappear? My mind drifted to one of our early dates. I remembered wanting to get him to talk about his personal life.
He had agreed to meet me at a local coffee shop after a little coercion—otherwise known as batting my eyelashes. For most of the night we stuck to school, Eric changed the subject every time I tried to ask questions about his personal life. Feeling let down and sure I'd never get any information out of him, I decided to call it a night and started packing up my things. While I put my notes in my messenger bag, I knocked down a couple of pens and pencils. We both bent down at the same time to pick them up, which resulted in bumping heads. He grabbed the pens and pencils to give them to me, but I sat up too quickly. The abrupt movement threw me off balance, causing me to fall off the chair and crash to the floor. I laughed hysterically, Eric threw the pens and pencils back on the floor and rushed to my side. It took me nearly ten minutes to convince him I wasn't hurt.
Rather than go home, we found an Open Mic night at one of the coffee clubs. As we drank coffee and listened to people get on stage and drone on about lost love and yellow dragons, Eric let his guard down. I saw him laugh to the point of tears. There was a spark in him I hadn't seen before. We finished our fourth or fifth cup of coffee, and there was a lull in the poetry readings. I nudged Eric in the arm. “You should do something.”
“Nope.” He shut down. A cold, distant feeling I wasn’t accustomed to blanketed his eyes. In an instant the connection we shared was gone.
“Please, for me.”
Eric stayed where he was, but his gaze flickered to a guitar resting against the stage. When the emcee came to the mic and made an announcement for last call Eric stood and nodded to him. With a sweep of his arm the emcee beckoned him to the stage. Eric took the guitar and settled on a stool at the front of the stage.
I remembered everything about that moment. He wore a pair of jeans with a rip at the knee. His Black Crowes T-shirt was tight across his chest, accentuating the rock solid planes of his body. When he cleared his throat, the room went still and the chattering silenced. I sank into the plush couch and waited for him to start.
I knew Eric could dance, but was surprised he knew how to play the guitar. As soon as he started singing, the hushed whispers picked back up, but I didn't hear anything other than his voice. I was in a tunnel with only the aromati
c scent of espresso keeping me anchored to the club. One song led to another, followed by whistles and cheers for an encore. Eric dismissed the fans requesting an encore with a flick of his wrist and returned the guitar to its resting place. I didn't remember what he sang, but I couldn't forget the way he commanded the stage. His performance was an insider's look into his soul and so much more than words could have given.
I was yanked from the memory by the pilot thanking us for flying. Logan and I got our bags from the overhead bin and left. As we walked out into the waiting area for transportation, I caught Logan's growl and searched for the cause.
“What's wrong?”
“What...oh, nothing.”
I thought I heard Logan mutter something that sounded like “what is he doing here?” but I wasn't sure. I followed his gaze to find Eric standing against a wall, a bouquet of tulips in hand, and a sign that read “Carissa...I'm sorry.” He was dressed in a black suit like the limo driver who had picked us up and took us to the airport in New Orleans. Eric's Transportation Company was written in small print below. I laughed at his poor attempt at mimicking a driver.
“He's not supposed to be our driver, is he?” I asked.
“No. He's not. I’m glad to see him here though.” Logan looked at me and smiled. “Looks like you’re happy to he’s here, too.”
“Yeah, I am. Why don’t you go find our driver, and I’ll come find you in a minute.”
“You’re still going to ride home with me?” Logan’s brows rose.
“Of course. Everything has already been arranged. I won’t ditch you, Logan. Eric can meet us back at my place.”
“Wow. He’s an idiot if he screws this up with you. I'm gonna go tell the driver we'll be ready in a minute.”
“Okay, I'll come find you.” I stared into Eric's eyes as I walked to him and was reminded once again how much I'd missed him. “Missed you.”
Eric grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him for a kiss. “Missed you too. Did you have fun?” Eric handed me the flowers then reached for my bag. I started to answer, but he stopped me. “Tell me on the way to the car.”
Love and Lies Page 12