Because of Logan

Home > Other > Because of Logan > Page 6
Because of Logan Page 6

by Erica Alexander


  “Let me get my coat.”

  She waves me in, and I follow her down the hall and into her apartment.

  “Happy birthday, Skye.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  She grabs a jacket and zips it up.

  River comes into the living room.

  “Hey, Hot Cop! How are you?”

  “I’m well. Happy birthday, River.”

  “Thanks.”

  She smiles.

  “Now I can drink and you can’t arrest me.”

  I laugh.

  “I could still arrest you.”

  “Not if you want to get into my sister’s pants. I’m sure arresting me would not put her in the right mood.”

  “River!”

  I look at Skye, and yes, she’s already blushing. I love the way her cheeks pinken. I glance at River, but my eyes return to Skye before I reply.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I open the passenger door of my truck for her. The red pickup truck is tall and doesn’t have a running board for her to step on. Skye holds to the top of the door and pulls herself onto the seat. My hands go around her hips and give her a little boost. The brief contact speeds up my heart. Sitting inside the truck brings her to eye level with me, maybe even a little taller.

  A mild breeze ruffles my hair, and her hand reaches out to run through it. I freeze at her touch. My eyes drop to her mouth and Skye pulls her hand back. Her lips part, but all that leaves her mouth is a shallow puff of air.

  “Buckle up, please,” I say before closing the door and walking around the front of the truck.

  “Ready?”

  “I hope so. I have no idea what you’re planning on doing to me.”

  I can’t help the smirk on my face. Skye says the most innocent things, but somehow, it always sounds like an invitation to do something dirty. Or maybe it’s just my overactive imagination.

  She touches both cheeks with her hands.

  “I curse the genes that made me so light-skinned and prone to blushing,” she says.

  “I love the way your skin flushes. It makes me want to come up with naughty things to say just to see how pink you’ll get.”

  As if by command, she flushes even more. My fingertips trace the color on her cheek in the gentlest of caresses before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

  I linger for a moment, and she holds her breath, but the leaping pulse on her neck betrays her.

  I’ve never been this affected by anyone else before.

  I give both of us a break and buckle my seatbelt and start the truck. I let air into my lungs, taking in slow breaths.

  I pull into traffic and navigate the local streets until we get to the highway. I’m grateful for the few minutes of silence. It gives me a chance to get ahold of myself. You’d think this is the first time I ever went on a date.

  Skye runs a hand over the weathered bucket seat. It’s an old truck. The red paint is faded and the leather seats have lost their sheen, but the interior is spotless.

  I wonder what she’s thinking. I could have driven the Escalade, but this old truck is also part of my plan. A plan that’s starting to look dumber by the minute.

  “I love this truck,” she says.

  What? That’s the last thing I expect her to say.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I learned to drive in a truck just like this one. But it was blue and nowhere near as well-kept.”

  The coincidences keep piling on.

  “This truck was Grandpa’s. He taught me and my brother, Liam, to drive in it. I have so many fond memories associated with it.”

  “Yeah? Tell me some.”

  “God . . . Liam and I as kids, riding in the back on country lanes at what we thought were great speeds, but now, I know we were hardly moving. Us sitting between our grandparents during long drives all over the state.”

  I run my hand over the same spot Skye did, as if I could touch those memories somehow.

  “Camping and sleeping on the truck bed on piles of blankets. My first kiss at fifteen, one early summer when Grandpa let me borrow it even though I was too young to even have a driver’s permit.”

  The bright red color has long ago faded, and the truck is now a dull terra-cotta. The fifteen-plus years show, but I love this truck and could not part with it when Grandpa died and Grandma told me to sell it and take the money.

  The old fella shows its years, but the engine is in mint condition. Grandpa had a knack for mechanics and taught my brother and me everything he knew.

  I glance at her and she’s smiling at me. Sharing these memories makes them alive again. I can almost smell Grandpa’s aftershave. He was an Old Spice man.

  “Where are you originally from?” I ask.

  “Born and raised in Vermont. A couple of hours’ drive from here, actually.”

  “Yeah? Where about?”

  “A tiny little town, barely on the map. You’ve probably never heard of it. Apple Hill.”

  The corner of my mouth tilts up in a smile.

  “I’m familiar with Apple Hill. You’re not going to believe this, but when we were kids, our grandparents took us to Apple Hill every fall. We’d hit a few small farms and fill ourselves with ice cream, apple cider, chocolate, donuts, and bring home all kinds of food. We never made it more than five minutes awake on the trip back.”

  I’m lost in happy memories again, but her laugh brings me back to the present. The sound warms me from the inside out.

  “No way! Apple Hill is so small. We probably crossed paths a dozen times.”

  “I have to make it back there. It’s been too long,” I murmur to myself.

  I glance at her and her eyes are on me. I wonder if she heard me.

  “I guess fate is trying to bring us together. I visited your home town dozens of times growing up, and now you live across the street from me. Do you go home often?”

  “As often as school and work allow us. We try to go any time we have a long weekend or more than three or four free days. And all the holidays, of course.”

  “Will your parents be upset you’re not going back for your birthday?”

  “No, not really. This is the first time our birthday falls on a weekend since we began college, so they’re used to our not coming home for it. We usually do something after, the next time we can make it home or meet for lunch halfway between Riggins and home.”

  “You’re close to them. And your sister too.”

  “I am. We’re very close. We hit the parent lottery. I couldn’t have asked for more loving and supportive parents.”

  I can’t say I know what having loving parents means. There’s an empty spot in my soul where that should have been.

  “That’s good. I’m glad you have a loving family.”

  I’m not sure what else I can say.

  “How about you? Are you from Vermont?”

  “No, I’m from Connecticut. But I grew up in Vermont as much as back home. My grandparents on my mother’s side lived here. The house where I live now belonged to them.”

  “It’s cool that you can live in the same house your grandparents lived in.”

  “I spent the best moments of my life with my grandparents. We came up as often as we could. Every school break, and the entire summer vacation too. But we spent most of the summer in Florida with them.”

  “When you say we . . .”

  “I mean my baby brother, Liam, and me. Our parents were always busy with work and social functions.”

  There’s a long silence between us, what I’m not saying heavy in the confines of the truck.

  “I take it you’re not very close to your parents then.”

  Her voice is soft, as if she’s unsure whether she should ask me about it.

  “No, we didn’t hit the parent lottery, that’s for sure.”

  Before she can say anything, I smile and announce in a much happier voice, “We’re here.”

  I watch her closely, expecting to see displeasure on her face or anything
that will tell me she’s less than impressed to be spending her birthday and first date with me in an amusement park.

  The place is not huge and caters more to teenagers than adults, and this early in the morning, it’s not busy, as the mostly empty parking lot can attest. But it has a particular ride I want her to try.

  Her face is pure joy. She’s smiling like a kid at the—well, the amusement park. She gets out of the truck so fast I don’t have a chance to open the door for her.

  Amanda, my ex, would’ve still sat in it and waited for me to open the door even if it was on fire. Well, if I’m to be honest, Amanda wouldn’t step foot inside a truck, especially not this old, beat-up one. I do a mental shakedown and tell Amanda to go fuck herself. There’s no room for her in this date.

  “You brought me to an amusement park?”

  Her eyes dart among the rides she can see as she walks my way.

  “Yeah, I hope this is okay.”

  She looks at me then and her smile is so big, something inside of me cracks. I smile back, and she steps up to me, her feet on tiptoes as her arms go around my neck. She barely hits my shoulder, and I tuck her into my side. A muffled thank you leaves her mouth and goes straight to my heart. She pulls my head down and kisses my cheek, a shy smile playing at her lips. I can’t remember the last time someone looked at me with such joy and gratitude. The crack widens a bit more.

  I take her hand and it feels right, like her hand belongs in mine. I buy us both wristbands, and she tries to pay for hers, but I don’t let her.

  “No, this is all part of your birthday celebration. Your money is no good today.”

  I can tell she wants to insist, but I stop her before she can say anything.

  “How about this? On my birthday, you can take me out and pay for it, deal?”

  She looks at me suspiciously.

  “When is your birthday?”

  “July fifth.”

  “That’s nearly a year away.”

  “It should give you plenty of time to plan then. I expect it to be epic.”

  I can see the wheels turning in her head, and the thought of having Skye with me for the next ten months makes me smile.

  “Come on, there’s something I want to try first, before it gets crowded.”

  I tug her behind me to the back of the park. When we get closer and she sees where I’m taking her, she starts to laugh. She’s in on the joke. That huge smile is back on her face.

  “Oh, you’re going down, Logan.”

  I want to go down, all right—between her sweet thighs—but I don’t think that’s what she meant.

  We show our wristbands to the attendant at the Go Kart gate. We’re the first ones here. He hands us the mandatory plastic disposable shower caps for hygiene purposes and helmets. When Skye is not looking, I slip him a twenty and ask him to give us some extra time and exclusive use of the ride. He’s glad to oblige.

  Skye is trying to put her long hair inside the plastic cap, but it keeps falling off.

  “Hold on,” I say. “I have something that might help.”

  Then I reach into my jeans pocket and pull out the hair tie I bought yesterday, along with a large box of condoms. But I don’t let her in on my extra purchase.

  “It’s brand-new. I just bought it. I figured you’d need it today, and I didn’t want to say anything to you before and give the surprise away.”

  Her mouth drops open as if she could not believe I thought of such a thing. I can’t believe it either. I never imagined I’d be buying hair ties one day. First time for everything.

  I step behind her and run my hands through her hair and gather it in a low ponytail. Another first, putting a hair tie on someone. Then I put the cap and the helmet on her and do the chin strap before doing my own. She searches my face for something.

  I smile.

  “What?”

  She shakes her head. The attendant, whose name I now know is Mike since he put a name tag on, points to two of the carts and tells me they’re the best two. We take them.

  The ride has tires and bales of hay around the entire track. I haven’t done this in years, but I remember having a lot of fun with my brother and grandpa here. This track is one of the longest in the country at almost one mile long, and the carts can go up to fifty miles per hour.

  No one under sixteen is allowed to drive them.

  I help her into her kart and get into mine. Mike signals us to make sure we’re ready and turns the starting lights on. Red gives way to yellow, and I glance at Skye.

  Her eyes are on the track ahead of her. As soon as the green light turns on, Skye takes off, burning rubber in a cloud of smoke. I’m so surprised, it takes a few extra seconds to hit the gas pedal. She’s already a good fifty feet ahead of me. I can’t help the smile that covers my face.

  It seems Skye is a speed demon. I spend the whole race trying to pass her, but she closes me in every turn and doesn’t let me by. Having the whole track for just the two of us gives her a chance to go as fast as she can without holding back.

  We ride until I notice Mike waving at me and circling his hand above his head in the universal signal to wrap it up. His voice comes over the loud speaker and announces it's the last lap, and Skye wins. I never even had a chance to pass her.

  When we coast the cars back to the starting line, there are quite a few annoyed faces looking at us. But we’re both too excited about our little race to care.

  The look of joy on her face is well worth the angry glares. When we hand our helmets back to Mike, he laughs at me.

  “Dude, you got smoked. She handed your ass to you. You might have to turn your driver’s license in.”

  I laugh and look at Skye. She tosses the plastic cap in the trash can and is running her fingers through her now loose hair. The hair tie is on her wrist. She has an I told you so smirk on her face.

  I slap Mike on the shoulder.

  “If you’re going to get your ass smoked by a woman, make sure she’s a beautiful one.”

  We turn to walk away, and Mike yells after us, “Come back. I’ll be here all day.”

  I look at Skye and her smug face. Sounds good to me.

  Chapter Nine

  “I would’ve never guessed this was what you had planned. What made you think of it?”

  He looks pensive for a moment, as if looking for the right words.

  “I didn’t want to have the pressure of a first date hanging over our heads. I wanted to do something that would allow us to talk and just be.”

  He smiles, still lost in thought.

  “To be honest, I didn’t think of this place until yesterday morning. I was cleaning the truck and I remembered Grandpa telling me about his first date with Grandma. He took her to the fair and they spent the day at the rides. As soon as the thought popped in my mind, I knew it was what I was looking for. I came here a few times with my grandparents and with friends when I was at Riggins. It seemed like the perfect place for a date.”

  There are butterflies in my stomach. I love that Logan is recreating his grandparents’ first date for us.

  “Maybe your grandpa whispered the idea in your ear,” I say.

  This is something Mom would have thought. She’s rubbing off on me.

  “Maybe he did.”

  Logan takes my hand.

  “I’ve always loved amusement parks. When we were old enough to go alone, Dad used to drop us off, and River and I would spend the entire day at the rides. Go Karts were always my favorites and the one thing I beat River at every time.”

  “You like speed.”

  He’s not asking.

  “I’ve always loved the feeling that comes with it. Love the wind on my face, the sliding into a tight turn, and the way my whole body vibrates with the kart as if an extension of it. I even love the smell of burned tires.”

  I laugh.

  “Gosh, it’s been at least a couple of years since I went Go Karting. River was more of a roller coaster thrill seeker. I didn’t like roller coasters as m
uch, so we compromised.”

  Logan is smiling at me and shaking his head. He tugs me to a concession stand and buys two water bottles. He cracks the seal open on mine before handing it back to me. I’ve never had a guy do this before. I don’t think anyone has done this for me since I was a little kid and not strong enough to open the bottle myself.

  “Good thing I didn’t have a bet going against you, or I’d be paying up right now.”

  “I told you, you were going down.”

  I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips.

  “You did. How did you come to be a little speed demon?”

  “I’ve been riding Go Karts for as long as I can remember. Dad used to take us all the time. At first, I’d sit in his lap because my little legs couldn’t reach the pedals, but Dad always let me steer. Eventually, I was tall enough to drive them by myself, and the older I got, the faster I went. I didn’t know this place was here.”

  “Is this something you still do often?”

  “Gosh, no. Not for a couple of years. The last time was when we went back home for Thanksgiving in my sophomore year. There’s a fair every fall. Dad and River raced me. They lost too. The three of you have something in common.”

  “I’m glad I picked this place then. I wanted to do something low-key without the pressure of trying to dress up or impress each other. But I guess it kind of failed.”

  “It failed?”

  “I’m totally impressed with you. And now you raised the bar so far up, how will I ever be able to impress you?”

  “No worries there, Logan. You already did. This is officially the best date I’ve ever had.”

  “We just started.”

  He reaches around me, runs his fingers through my hair—the tips graze the back of my neck and send a trail of shivers down my spine. My skin rises in goosebumps and I’m glad the long sleeves hide it.

  My confidence falls. I can only imagine what my post-helmet, wind, and bad ponytail hair looks like. I reach over to comb my hair with my fingers, but Logan beats me to it.

  His hand is gentle as he combs his fingers through my hair and places the locks around my shoulders, his eyes watching me the entire time. My eyes want to drift closed. I think a little moan escapes my lips. His smile confirms it.

 

‹ Prev