“Come.” He smiles.
“No. No way, Logan.” I shake my head. “Just pretend you are here by yourself or that I’m so wasted from last night that I’m still passed out.”
“You don’t want to meet my mom?” He sounds hurt or he’s acting like he’s hurt. I’m not sure which.
“I’d love to meet her after I’ve showered and put on some fresh clothes. I’m a mess and I probably still reek of tequila.”
He laughs. “You smell wonderful and you always look beautiful so stop being silly. I’ll give you a couple minutes, but you better come downstairs or else I will come up here and carry you down there.” I reluctantly let him pull me up from the bed.
His arms are wrapped around my waist and he looks down at me with a delightful gleam in his eyes.
“You wouldn’t dare.” I stare up at him.
“Try me.” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “Just for the record I am not happy about this.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Now get dressed and I’ll see you down stairs.” He kisses my forehead quickly and smiles.
I head into the bathroom and look at my reflection in the mirror. Despite my previous night’s tequila binge, I look quite refreshed from my restful sleep. I pull off Logan’s borrowed boxers and t-shirt and quickly put on my bra and panties.
Once I tug on my jeans and sweater I head to the vanity to turn on the faucet. Hurriedly I wash my face, brush my teeth and pull my hair up into a high ponytail. I find my heart locket on the dresser and clasp the delicate chain around my neck. When I head down the stairs I’m overcome with panic and excitement of meeting his mom.
I try to remember what Logan has told me about her and all I can think of is she travels a lot and likes Europe. I wrack my brain trying to come up with any other details. I think about when I first met Logan and interviewed him for Studio One. He mentioned how his parents expected he and his sister to excel in school and whatever they set out to do. Then I remember how I called him cocky and spoiled. Thankfully, Live from Studio One is not a national show and only airs at SBU.
When I reach the kitchen Logan stands from one of the barstools and turns to me.
“This is Emilia.” He smiles. “Emilia, this is my mom, Louise Prescott.”
The stunning woman is leaning against the kitchen counter when she turns and smiles at me. She has the same dark brown hair as Logan but it’s in a soft bob that frames her high cheekbones and fine features. She’s dressed in a knee-length black pencil skirt with a cream colored blouse. A long strand of pearls hangs loosely around her neck and she’s wearing black pumps.
She’s beaming at me when she puts her hand out to take mine. “So nice to meet you, Emilia. Logan was just telling me about how you met.”
My eyes flash at him with worry that he told her about my unedited and rude remarks. Then I quickly glance back at his mother.
I shake her hand and smile back at her. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Prescott.”
“Please call me Louise.” She smiles. “I’m sorry about surprising you this morning.”
I can feel my face blush in embarrassment.
“If my son checked his messages more regularly he would have known I was going to be here.” She smiles at both of us.
I notice Logan roll his eyes. “Mom, please.”
I want to reply that she should email him because that seems to be his preferred way of communication but I refrain.
“Logan thinks I’m giving him a hard time but I’m only teasing.” She says as she playfully ruffles his hair.
“So you had to interview Logan for the school’s news show?” She smiles and glances at the two of us, unable to hide her inquisitiveness.
“Yes. He was quite a good sport.” I smile at Logan, who is smiling at me.
“Oh. I’d love to see it.” She beams and excitedly claps her hands together.
“I’ll get you a copy.” Logan says, looking at me with amusement.
“Unfortunately I think once it airs there’s no way to get a copy. We don’t usually keep past tapes at the studio.” I smile back at Logan; two can play this game.
“Oh. That’s a shame.” Mrs. Prescott says wistfully.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m sure I can find you a copy.” He smirks at me.
“Is that what you’re interested in, dear. Reporting?” She asks.
“I enjoy it but I’m also an English major. My passion is writing.” I smile.
She claps her hands excitedly together again. “I was an English major too! Did Logan tell you?”
I look at Logan. I’m actually surprised he never told me. “No. He didn’t.”
“It’s really a wonderful major. Writing is an essential skill in anything you endeavor to do.”
I nod and return her warm smile. “Very true. I have to say I’m quite impressed with how well-read Logan is.” I smile at him.
“Yes. When he was little he always had a book in his hand. He would read whatever he could get his hands onto.” I’m struck by the image of little Logan reading and it makes me smile.
“Didn’t you say you had a meeting to get to?” Logan asks his mom.
“I think Logan is worried I’ll reveal too much about his childhood.” She winks at him.
I laugh. “I certainly would like to hear more. How long are you in town? Maybe we could get together? Then you can tell me all about Logan. I think he prefers to be a bit of a mystery.” I tease.
Mrs. Prescott laughs and Logan rolls his eyes. “I would love that. But I’m just here for a business meeting. How about next time I’m here for a visit?”
“I’d like that.” I smile. She is really a lovely lady. Logan doesn’t know how lucky he is.
“Logan is right though. I do have to get to a meeting before my flight.” She gathers her purse and turns to Logan. They hug each other warmly and then Logan gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Emilia, such a pleasure to meet you. I hope we do get to have a girls day the next time I’m in town.” She glances at Logan and smiles. Then holds her hand out to me.
“Pleasure to meet you too.” I smile. “Have a safe trip.”
“Thank you, dear.”
When his mom leaves Logan pulls me into his arms. I’m gazing up at his aloof demeanor.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“Why did you say I’m mysterious? I think I’ve been very forthcoming with you. You are the one who is a mystery.” He looks questioningly at me.
“I’m a mystery?” I laugh.
“Yes. I’m always trying to figure you out.”
I shrug. “Really? I don’t see it that way.” I lean up and kiss him softly on the lips.
“You trying to distract me from my line of questioning, Miss King?”
I move my hands from around his back up into his unruly bedridden hair, pulling him closer to me. I press my lips to his and his tongue dips into my ready, wanting mouth. I can feel my body heating as his hands move underneath the back of my shirt. His soft touch skims my waist and my back as he pulls me closer to his firm body. His lips move from my mouth and down my neck.
“I think we should go back to bed.” He whispers. His lips are back on my mouth and his hips press firmly against me.
I am so inexperienced with all of this but I know in my head that I’m not ready as much as my body craves his touch. I pull back, gazing up at him.
“I can’t convince you?” He whispers.
“Yes. You probably could but I think we should wait.”
“You aren’t making this easy.”
“Nothing in this world that’s worth having comes easy.” I say quietly.
“And I honestly believe you are worth having so if you want to wait. I will wait because I want to, because I want you.” His eyes gaze tenderly into mine.
He leans down and kisses me on the forehead and then steps back, taking his hands into mine.
“If your intention was to make me swoon, you certainly succeeded.” I sm
ile.
“That wasn’t my intention. I was just speaking the truth.” He pauses and smiles.
“Since we aren’t going back to bed. Can I make you some breakfast?” He smiles.
“Just a yogurt for me is fine.”
Logan heads to the refrigerator and swings the door open, he stands for a moment looking at its contents.
“Vanilla?” He smirks.
“Please.”
He hands me the yogurt and a spoon. Heading to the coffee maker, he puts in a filter and pours some Starbucks ground coffee in it. Then he fills it with water and switches it on.
“You sure I can’t make you something else?” He asks as he starts to whisk some eggs in a small bowl.
“I’m good.” I say as I slowly lick some yogurt off the spoon.
Logan is staring at me. “If you keep licking that spoon like that I will take you back upstairs to bed and really try and convince you.”
I press my lips together. “Oh. Sorry.” I pause. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He focuses on pouring the beaten eggs in a pan.
“You promise you won’t laugh?” I ask.
“Now you have my attention.” He looks up from the eggs. “I won’t laugh.”
“What’s so funny about my choice in yogurt?”
“Vanilla? There’s nothing funny about it. Why?”
“Whenever it comes up, you have that look.”
He smirks. “What look?”
“That look.” I say as I point at him and laugh.
“I guess it’s my bawdy humor. Sorry. I think of vanilla sex when you say you like vanilla yogurt. Have you heard of that expression?”
“No. What does it mean?” I say as I take another bite of yogurt.
“It’s sex with no kinkiness; no chains, cuffs, whips, no toys. It’s just sweet, straight-forward love-making.”
“Oh.” I blush. “Probably should have asked that after a cocktail or two.”
“You are lovely when you blush and honestly your innocence is irresistible. It’s quite a novelty for me.” He smiles as he walks around the island and sits down beside me.
“It might be for now but it may get old.” I murmur. “My innocence could get old very fast for you.”
“Have I given you any reason to think like that?” He says quietly.
“Well, no.” I shrug.
“We are back at the heart of the matter. Trust.” He smiles and takes a bite of his omelet. “This is quite a serious discussion for so early in the morning.”
I giggle. “Yes. It’s been an interesting morning.” I finish my yogurt so I just sit and watch Logan eat his breakfast.
I lean my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my palm. “It was nice meeting your mom.” I smile.
“She likes you.” He says after he finishes chewing.
“She won’t after you give her a copy of the interview. I hope you aren’t seriously planning on getting a copy.”
“Sounds like it might be worth my while to have a copy of that tape.” He grins as he moves to the sink to clear his plate.
“You would blackmail me?” I ask amused.
“Maybe.” He smiles. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“I’ll have one if you’re having one.” I smile.
“You trying to play nice?” He teases.
“Aren’t I always?” I smile.
He pours the coffee into two mugs and then hands me one and then sits back down beside me.
“I said you were a good sport in the interview. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Not in my book but nice try.” He teases.
“Why didn’t you tell me your mom was an English major?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. My mom being an English major didn’t cross my mind.” He takes a sip of coffee.
Logan’s cell phone on the counter starts ringing. He hesitates to answer it.
“It might be your mom. You should get it.” I say.
He reluctantly picks it up without checking the number. I get up from where I’m sitting and walk with my cup of coffee to the far end of the living room.
The fog is thick this morning. I’m thankful that my morning run will be delayed until this afternoon. I hate running in the fog.
I can only hear bits and pieces of Logan’s conversation. He sounds annoyed.
“It’s none of your business.” That’s the last thing I hear him say before he slams his phone on the counter.
I turn to look at him and he casually walks towards me.
“Please tell me that wasn’t your mom.” I say.
He smiles slightly. “No. It wasn’t her.”
“You’re going to make me guess or would you rather not tell me?” I ask.
“It was Sebastian. He’s not happy that I ditched him last night.” He says and rolls his eyes.
“Is he gay?” I ask in a matter-of-fact tone.
Logan laughs. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s very possessive of you. Maybe he’s never wanted me and it’s you who he really wants.” I tease.
“Okay. You are creeping me out so stop.” He tries to hide a hint of a smile.
“Just stating the facts.”
He shakes his head. “You are crazy.”
“I have a question.”
“Yes?” He looks at me quizzically.
“Why do you bring me here and not to your place near school? You don’t want to make Sebastian jealous?”
He rolls his eyes at me.
“It’s nicer here and more private. Besides you think Sebastian loathes you so I figured you’d be more comfortable away from him. Plus, he was extremely rude to you.”
“Okay. But he is very possessive of you.” I smirk.
He shakes his head. “I think Shakespeare and all those books you read are making your imagination run wild.”
“You ready to go?” I ask.
“You’re mad that I said your imagination is running wild?”
I giggle. “No. I just figure you need to go because your boyfriend needs you.”
“Emilia, that’s enough.” His jaw clenches.
“Sorry.” I murmur. I turn away from him and rinse my coffee cup out and place it in the dishwasher.
Logan walks over and puts his coffee cup in the sink. He stands beside me and places his hands around the small of my waist.
“You are a challenging woman.” He smiles.
“That’s a good thing?”
He laughs.
“I’m sorry about the teasing. I just got carried away. He’s your friend and that was really wrong of me. Do you forgive me?” I blink up at him.
He leans down and kisses me softly on my lips.
“I’m not mad at you. Do you really want to leave or did you just say that to give me a hard time?”
“Both. Well, sort of. I don’t want to leave but I should. It’s Sunday and I have to study and work on another paper. I need to run. But I also said it to give you a hard time.” I smile slightly.
“Okay. Thanks for letting me kidnap you.” He smiles.
“Thank you for kidnapping me. I really enjoyed being carried by you.”
“Did you now?” He says and then in one quick movement he lifts me off the floor and gently tosses me over his shoulder.
I giggle. “I actually prefer the other way you carried me.”
“Just appreciating your rear assets.” He says as he softly squeezes my bottom.
BRYN IS LYING ON THE COUCH in the living room when I get home. She has a wet towel on her head and her eyes are shut. She doesn’t move when I approach her.
“Bryn, are you asleep?” I ask.
“Shh. You are too loud. I’m not sleeping. My head is pounding. I think I’m dying.” She whispers as she opens her eyes.
“Too much tequila?” I smile slightly.
“Shh. Please don’t even mention alcohol.”
I smile. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. I just need
to sleep it off. My room is too bright that’s why I’m down here.”
“How was your kidnapping?” She manages a slight smile.
“It was quite enjoyable, really enjoyable.”
“Details. Please.” She smiles.
“We went to his parent’s house in Montecito.”
“And?” She asks.
“I was pretty drunk.” I giggle as images of last night flash in my head.
“So how was it?” She grins.
“It was good, but we didn’t have sex. We just talked.”
“You two talk a lot.” She giggles. “But I’m glad you didn’t because you were pretty wasted. Incidentally, how are you not nursing a hangover like me?”
“I drank a lot of water. Logan forced me.”
“I’m starting to like that guy a little.” She smiles.
“Me too. But more than a little.”
“So it was a nice night? You sorted out your trust issues?”
“I guess. I said I would try and trust him. Is that sorting them out?” I ask.
“Sure. That’s all you can do. Really that’s all any of us can do in any relationship. It’s not easy.”
“I’m going to head out for a run. You sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, thanks.” She says as she closes her eyes.
Ten minutes later, I’m dressed and out the door for my run. The fog has burned off and it’s now a gloriously sunny day. I plug in my headphones and switch on my iPod. Thoughts of our night under the stars at the Santa Barbara Bowl flash in my head as I listen to Snow Patrol and head down the street towards the coast.
The concert was really a lovely night until Seraphina showed up. The thought of her and the way she looked at Logan makes me feel sick to my stomach. Logan is right that it all comes down to me trusting him. I said I would try but can we really make this work? I know trust is a part of any relationship. Bryn always points this out but Logan is not the typical guy. Trusting him is a bigger risk than trusting someone; like Tyler. Tyler is a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy.
How did Logan refer to himself? Oh, yes, the Jay Gatsby baggage reference. I have no doubt that he is a complicated guy. I thought maybe meeting his mom would give me some insight into why he spiraled out of control. It’s not an easy task to get kicked out of multiple schools. He was clearly out of control. I don’t understand how someone can be so motivated to live for pleasure. Do I really believe he can just give all of that up?
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