The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  I shake my head as I get up, grab the phone, and hand it back to her. “Not interested.”

  “In me? In reading? In what?”

  I move to open the damn door, knowing Brody is probably losing his shit about now, and she steps in front of me.

  “You should listen to your dad. Not here, London, not here.”

  “Then come home,” she pleads. “Come home and—” She covers her face as her shoulders start to shake with silent sobs.

  I know this isn’t about me. It’s about her, her choices, her actions, her not being ready. It still doesn’t stop me from hugging her. And as good as it feels to hold her when she needs it, it also doesn’t stop me from opening the door and locking eyes with Brody.

  “It wasn’t anything but reading lines,” she sobs quietly.

  “It was more than that,” I tell her, and she looks up. “You didn’t listen to me, you didn’t trust me, and you went to him, London.”

  “He’s my friend, and I thought you—”

  “If you don’t trust me, this won’t work. If I’m not the first person you want to talk to when you’re hurt or upset, if I’m not the first person you want to tell when something good happens, or if you’re too emotionally drained and you don’t run to me, but to him; then you don’t love me the way I do you. And I sure as hell am not going to continue on with this.”

  “It’s not like that. It’s...” She stops when I kiss the top of her head and leans against me, wrapping her arms tight around me.

  “I’m not doing this, London.” I attempt to step back, but she holds on tighter. “Go with Brody.”

  “I don’t want him. I want you,” she whispers.

  “Not right now, London, not right now.”

  When Brody takes her hand, she finally pulls away.

  “Dignity and grace, London Fields. We walk with dignity and grace.”

  She looks at me. “I will never forgive you, Logan, never.”

  I turn my back on her and look out the window. I hear Brody whisper, “shhh...”

  After a couple minutes, they leave.

  “You gonna just let her walk out of here after she looked like a fucking loon so that bitch can talk shit about her?”

  I look back at Mitch to see he’s pissed.

  “Don’t fucking play her like that, man.”

  “Wasn’t trying to, Mitch. Just need a fucking break.”

  I walk out the bedroom door as Brody’s opening the front door.

  “Hey,” I yell, catching their attention.

  She looks back at me sadly as I walk to her.

  I grab her face and turn it up so she’s looking at me. “I’m not happy with you.”

  She nods, lip popping out again.

  “You need to figure this out.”

  “There isn’t anything to figure out. You love me.” She pokes me in the fucking chest.

  I nod, lean in, and whisper, “Not letting you leave after acting like an ass so they can shit talk you. Not playing fucking games either. You need him, have at it. You need more from me than I’m already giving you, you fucking tell me. But I don’t know if it’s even possible since every damn thing I’ve done revolves around you. I will not fucking be played a fool, no more than I will let them think you are one. Get some fucking sleep.”

  Even though I don’t want to, I kiss the top of her head then walk back to Mitch’s room.

  “Better?” I snap at him.

  “You’ll thank me for that,” he whispers.

  Then I hear London say, “You try to mount him when he’s passed out again, Penny, I will fucking break—”

  “London, enough,” Brody barks at her.

  I don’t even fucking care.

  Mitch leaves me alone for a while, and when he returns, he has two beers in his hands. He hands me one.

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask, taking it.

  “Had plans to take a girl out tonight, but she just blew me off.” He sits down.

  “Why?” I ask to be nice.

  He sighs. “Having a sleepover or some shit.”

  “With bitch boy?”

  Mitch chuckles.

  “What?”

  “He’s not normally a bitch, but I guess we all have our moments.”

  “Little less cryptic, Mitch. I have a fucking headache.”

  “Apparently, they’re all hanging at your place.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs.

  “Great, just fucking great,” I groan.

  I shoot Keeka a text, hoping she’s good with the fucking ‘V’ squad hanging out.

  Her reply:

  It was my idea. My sister’s guy is being a dick.

  I respond:

  Fletcher?

  Please do not make me think you’re that stupid or that little of a bitch.

  Keeks, I’m not in the mood.

  Did you bump your vagina on the way out?

  I type and send:

  See you’re getting back to your normal self.

  Or just accepting the inevitable. By the way, we’re hosting dinner Sunday. I’m cooking with Lexington apparently. Be here, okay? I can only handle so much.

  Great, I think as I begin responding. However, her incoming text interrupts.

  I think you need a break, and I think your father needs more grandkids. Stay with the guys for a couple days. Let him get this out of his system so he’ll leave me the fuck alone.

  I can’t help laughing at that.

  You sure? I gave you my word, Keeks.

  Her response is immediate.

  Stay away.

  I look over at Mitch. “Mind if I crash with you for a couple days?”

  “They kick you out of your place?” He laughs.

  I nod.

  “On one condition.” He smirks.

  Wearily, I ask, “What?”

  “It’s cuddle season, man; try to keep your hands off me.”

  Needing Home

  London

  I take screenshots of all my messages to and from Fletcher, everything, and send them to Logan. It’s not like he could possibly be more upset with me. And it’s not like everything in them is completely appropriate.

  I know I hurt him again. I hurt him again because I jumped to conclusions...maybe. Maybe Mom was sticking up for him. Half of me hopes so. That way, I won’t feel as horrible about sending a message out of anger to Fletcher, venting about him.

  I was sure, still am, that after this, they are going to insist I take the semester off. and right now, I wouldn’t fight them. I am so done with this hell.

  With my knees to my chest, I bury my face in shame, in anger, and in complete and total exhaustion.

  “I want to go home,” I tell Dad, but he shakes his head and continues toward Logan’s place. “Dad, I’m serious.”

  “Well, your mother is at Logan’s, and your sister is there. I think it’s best we—”

  “I can’t do this anymore!”

  He reaches over to take my hand, but I pull it away.

  “I can’t keep acting like everything is okay, even though I want it to be. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and it makes it so I can’t concentrate on school. I can’t do anything right.” I pause as another sob escapes me.

  “You’re doing it all right, London.”

  I look at him. “Like sleeping pills and energy drinks?”

  “What?”

  “Like Mom didn’t tell you,” I scoff.

  He runs his hands through his black hair then grips the wheel harder.

  “Or like saying stupid things that will make your parents fight.” I cry again.

  “London, in your mother’s defense, there wasn’t a lot of time for discussion when, one minute you’re there, and the next, you’re gone. We were clearly concerned about your safety.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Why? Clive has been tailing me since I went back to Lawrinson.”

  When he glances at me out of the corner of his eye, I can’t hold
back.

  “Is there something wrong with me?”

  “You’re overwhelmed, exhausted, and have been through hell, so no, London, there isn’t a thing wrong with you that sleep and a little less stress wouldn’t cure.”

  “Aside from that, is there something all of you see in me that screams, she can’t take care of herself. That shouts, she puts herself in bad situations. That makes you all believe that I’m unaware of my surroundings, Dad? Is there?”

  “Of course—”

  “Because I’m aware. I am so damn aware. Yet, I second-guess myself all the time because all my life I’ve wondered why you all don’t trust me, which makes me mistrust my own judgment.”

  “Princess...” Dad says as he pulls over.

  “No, Dad, answer me. Is there something wrong with me?”

  “Of course not,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.

  I try to push him back, but he hugs me tighter.

  “I saw him! I saw him, and he seemed out of place and awkward, but I said nothing to anyone. I saw him and didn’t stop him, Dad! I saw him! I smiled at him! I smiled at him, and then he killed—” The rest of my words get stuck in my throat, and all that comes out are uncontrollable sobs and tears while he holds me, which I don’t want him to.

  I feel broken, ashamed, and out of control for the first time in my life. I’m afraid, so afraid I will never be able to put myself back together again.

  I saw him. I saw the man who shot and killed all those people at Chaos. My gut told me there was something wrong, and I chose to walk away instead of doing something.

  §

  When I wake up, I’m in Logan’s bed, and I’m cold, so cold. Mom is next to me, and Dad is on the other side.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “No, Dad, I’m not, and I never will be again.”

  “Drink, princess.” He hands me a bottle of water.

  “I don’t want it,” I tell him then roll back to my other side to find Mom looking at me like she’s scared. I’m not sure if it’s of me or for me.

  “Drink, sweetheart.” She wipes away tears I didn’t even realize were falling. “I don’t know how these will keep falling if you don’t. And London, they clearly need to keep falling.”

  I drink for her then fall back asleep.

  I sleep the entire next day and feel pathetic when I hear my friends, Keeka, and Leddie.

  When I start to get up, I find Maddox beside me.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No, but they’re all here, and I should be out—”

  “Go back to sleep. They’ll be here when you wake up.”

  I want to argue with him, but it won’t matter, because he’s right.

  §

  I wake up to sunshine flooding through the window and feel almost peaceful. I sit up and look toward the source of light.

  When I see Logan standing there, his back to me, arms crossed over his chest, I slide back down into his bed and hope he just goes away. I don’t want to face him.

  “I saw your reflection,” he says in an emotionless tone, one he’s used many times before. Before he kissed me, before he saved me, before he told me he loved me.

  I can’t say anything, because I’m not sure it won’t come out defensive, or that I won’t cry.

  When he turns around and looks at me, I have to look away.

  “Your family will be next door in a couple hours. Lexington is on her way with Josie now.” He pauses, and I glance over as he looks at his phone. “I’d guess in thirty minutes, so you may want to shower.” He bends down and grabs a bag. Then he walks over and sets in on the bed, “Here are some clothes and things your mom brought.”

  I clear my throat and sit up. “Where is she?”

  “She’s in the living room with your dad.”

  We stare at each other for a moment before I look down.

  “Logan...” I begin.

  “It’s fine, London. Everything’s fine.” With that, he turns to walk out the door.

  “Then, why are you walking away?”

  He stops abruptly, but he doesn’t turn back when he replies, “You’re going to be fine.”

  I feel my eyes burn with the building of tears as he walks out the door. However, I swallow back my emotions as I force myself to get ready for Lexington’s arrival.

  When I walk out into the living room, I see Logan at the island, his elbows on the counter, his head in his hands.

  I clear my throat, and he looks up.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I nod. “Where’s Leddie and Keeka?”

  “Down the hall,” he says, walking to the door.

  I hurry to catch up with him as he stops and grabs a hat from the closet.

  My chest tightens at knowing I did that to him. I made him feel like he needs to hide his emotions.

  “Logan?” I swallow hard as he glances back. “Can you get me one, too?”

  He cocks his head to the side and looks at me like he’s trying to figure me out.

  I shrug because, how do I explain in words that I’m a mess, that I’m ashamed, that I not only feel broken myself, but I feel his broken, too? It was me who caused it, and, “I’m so sorry.” The last part comes out in words unintended.

  He shakes his head. “No need.”

  When he starts toward the door, I ask, “What does that mean?”

  “It means what I said, London. No need to apologize.” He holds the door open. “Ready?”

  “I don’t know what I am. I don’t know what we are. I don’t know—”

  He reaches out to touch me, but then stops.

  “Why did you stop?” I ask, now reaching to touch him.

  “Gotta slow shit down,” he says then hisses as if it pains him when I slide my hands to his hips.

  “I don’t wanna slow anything down.” My words come out in a voice that is nearly begging.

  He stops my hands when I begin to run them up his abs like I have a hundred times. “London, just slow it down.”

  I pull my hands back. “You hate me now, right? I was so worried I would end up hating you, and the opposite happened.” I turn around, wiping the tears away. “I didn’t think it would hurt this badly if I hated you, but this, the opposite...This is unimaginable. This is—”

  I stop when he circles his arms around me from behind and hugs me.

  “I don’t hate you, so knock that shit off right now. I said, slow it fucking down.”

  I turn and grab his shirt, looking up at him, and he drops his arms to his sides. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. Until I woke up, before I fell asleep, things were finally—”

  He covers my lips with a finger, stopping me from continuing. “It will be a hell of a long time before that happens again.”

  I shake my head no, and he nods his yes.

  “Slow it down, London, and get your head on right. I need to do the same. We gotta slow it down so no one hates the other, and so this”—he motions between us—“doesn’t heat so fucking fast that it burns up and turns to ash before it even has a proper chance to be right. Slow. It. Down.”

  “You aren’t making any sense, Logan.”

  “You are going to settle back into school, get used to having a new sister and niece, enjoy your friends, and you’re going to do whatever you need to in order to get back on track.”

  “So, you’re breaking up with me?” I nod several times. “Okay, I deserve that, but—”

  “I’m not doing a thing. Just gonna focus on building a foundation.”

  “But you don’t love me anymore.” I don’t know why I’m telling him that and not asking.

  “Does love ever truly die?”

  I just stare at him.

  “Does it?”

  I lift my shoulder and close my eyes.

  He clamps his hands over my shoulders then turns me toward the other apartment. “You’re gonna be fine, London.”

  “You keep saying that. Well, what about you?” I l
ook back at him.

  “I’m not worried about me, and you aren’t allowed to either.”

  When we get to the door, I can’t help myself. I need to know the truth in what we are.

  I turn around and grab his hair, pushing the hat off in the process as I pull him down and kiss him. With my lips against his, I plead, “Please don’t do this to us.”

  I kiss him harder and pull at his lower lip with my teeth, needing an answer, needing to taste either love or hate.

  He hisses in a slow breath, and I want more. I want answers.

  I push my hand up his long-sleeved tee, and when he grips my shoulders lightly, I know he’s going to push me away. But then, he runs one of his hands up the back of my neck, gripping my hair before he positions my head back while his lips come down on mine.

  His kisses turn more possessive. The way he handles me, moves me, is reminiscent of being in his bed. Now I know he wants me.

  When I feel him start to pull back, I push him back against the wall and kiss him harder. He groans and sighs at the same time.

  When I feel him, all of him, hard against my body, I somehow feel I have gotten my answer, yet I don’t want to stop kissing him. When I hear a giggle, though, I step back.

  Grandma Josie takes the top of Lexi’s head and turns it, facing her away from us. “Mind your business, little one.”

  Lexi giggles. “I cannot wait until college.”

  Grandma laughs as they walk down the hall.

  When they are gone, I lean in to kiss him again.

  “Hell no,” he says, leaning back. “You...Jesus L. Christ, London. Go. Go do family shit.”

  “You aren’t coming with?” I ask, almost panicking.

  He casts his eyes down, and I look down, as well.

  “It’ll find a leg, right?”

  “London,” he hisses. “Go.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I—”

  He grabs my face and leans down. “You’re gonna be fucking fine, but no more of that shit for a while, okay?”

  “Why?”

  “Because, fucking you before someone else does is on the forefront of my mind. Doing it so you’ll never forget how fucking good I am, that’s second.”

  “I don’t want anyone but you.”

  “You will get nothing but honesty from me, so you come at me like that again, be prepared to get fucked. And when I say fucked, I mean, you won’t be walking for a couple days. I mean, it’ll hurt like hell because I’m not goddamned perfect, London. And if you don’t get shit sorted, I’ll ruin you for anyone else so that you never forget me. And driving a Mac truck into a mouse hole would sure as fuck do the job.”