by KB Winters
I shook it off as I got behind the wheel of my car. I glanced at my haggard reflection in the rear view mirror and rolled my eyes. I’d put on makeup and had done my hair, but it had all been in vain, judging the face staring back at me. If I wasn’t going to be seeing Logan after class, I wouldn’t care, but knowing that I’d be having dinner with my handsome knight in shining armor had me tweaking my hair with a more critical eye than usual.
After the epic disaster at the gallery, Logan had offered to take me out to lunch, but I was so shaken that my appetite had vanished, and he’d settled for taking me to get a coffee. The entire time, I’d been so distracted with worry that I hadn’t been able to fully enjoy his company. After half an hour, he’d walked me back to my car and asked me for a proper date after things settled down. I’d taken the weekend to recover, although, most of it had been spent at the school library working on my paper and not going home until late so as to avoid speaking with any of my family members. My dad blew up my phone, leaving countless voicemails, but I wasn’t ready to talk to any of them yet. I was angry, hurt, and disappointed that things had gone so far south. Between the complications with Grant, the fallout with Jeanine, and the family drama, I felt like I was being squeezed in a compactor.
I tore out of the parking lot, flicked the radio on, and sang my guts out with each song as I flew down the highway, racing towards campus to make my first class of the day. I was nearing campus, when the LED screen in the center dash starting flashing to indicate a call was coming in. I clicked a button on the touch screen to accept the call. “Hello?” I answered. The car could download my contacts, but I hadn’t figured it out yet, so I had no idea whose number was flashing at me.
“Hey, Megan, it’s Max,” his familiar voice boomed through the car’s speakers and I flinched before turning the volume down. I’d been listening to the radio on blast, to keep myself from hearing my own swirling thoughts. “How’re you doing?”
I rolled my eyes. I was so sick of his constant checking in on me. In the fallout of the confrontation with Jeanine, he’d been calling and texting everyday to see how I was doing, as though I was the one with a problem. “I’m fine, Max. Thank you for asking…again.”
He laughed. “I know, I’m driving you crazy. I’m sorry. I just feel like this entire thing is my fault.”
I relaxed a little in my seat, letting my shoulders sag back against the leather seat. “It’s not, seriously. Don’t worry about it. We’ll all be graduating soon and going our own separate ways.”
That was my latest rationalization for dealing with the situation. Jeanine and I had been friends for a while, but once we graduated and went on to careers in different cities, or even states, it was unlikely we would have kept in touch beyond the occasional message on social media and maybe a birthday e-card.
“All right, I’ll drop it, I promise. Hey, what are ya doing after class?”
I sucked on my lower lip, unsure of how to answer. Technically, Logan had been the one to call the dinner a date, but I wasn’t sure where I stood on the title. “I have dinner plans, after that, I don’t know. Wandering the city aimlessly to avoid going home and dealing with my psycho family.”
“Psycho family?” Max repeated, his voice forming an audible question and I could just picture the way his brow would arch up and into his shaggy hairline.
I pulled into a parking spot and gave him the short version of the events at the gallery, cutting out the parts that involved Logan and Grant.
“That’s so fucked up!” Max exclaimed when I drew the story to a close.
“Tell me about it,” I agreed with a hollow laugh.
“Well, if you need a place to crash, I have an extra bedroom. My roomie graduated early, and his room is free. He left the bed and dresser behind. It’s not the nicest stuff, but it works. You’d have your own space, at least.”
I brightened at the prospect. “Really?”
“Sure, it’s the least I could do.”
“Wow, Max, that would be amazing. I could really use some space from all the insanity. And I’d be a lot closer to work and school.”
“Sweet, well let’s make it happen. Come on over after your dinner thing and I’ll get you all set up.”
“Thanks, I will.”
We wrapped up the call, and by the time I was heading into my classroom, I felt lighter than I had in days.
* * * *
“You seem to be feeling better,” Logan said, as we were seated at a quaint table for two in the window of a downtown Italian place. The table had a white linen tablecloth and a trio of glowing candles inside an antique looking lantern.
I plucked a bread stick from the basket and took a pause, swirling it inside the cup of marinara sauce, before meeting his eyes again. “I am. Thank you. This place is great,” I answered, before biting into the warm bread.
Logan smiled and took a sip of wine. He’d ordered us an entire bottle to split, and although I let him pour me a glass, I was mentally monitoring myself. The last thing I needed was to get silly and do something stupid. Logan seemed like a nice guy, and I didn’t think he’d take advantage if I got a little tipsy, but it was best to avoid the scenario altogether.
“I’m glad to hear that. How was your class today?”
I’d had a painting class, and happily recapped the session for him. Art, and art classes, were always easy for me to talk about, and it was nice to have someone who had a genuine interest. Logan listened with rapt attention, asking questions about different art techniques, and added his own opinions and thoughts as we wandered through a series of art related topics. It turned out that Logan was very well traveled and had interesting stories to tell me about tons of famous works that he’d seen in person. The way he spoke of his travels was intoxicating and two hours slid by nearly without notice as we enjoyed our food, conversation, and the exquisite bottle of red he’d selected.
“I can’t wait until I can get settled and make some travel plans of my own,” I said, polishing off my wine. The dinner plates had been cleared, and we were waiting for our tiramisu to be delivered to us. The restaurant was small and intimate. It was the kind of place where you had the table for the night, nothing was hurried or rushed. The servers were attentive but also worked seamlessly as to not interrupt the meal.
“What’s your first stop? If you could go anywhere you wanted?” Logan asked, leaning forward with interest. His face was lit by the soft glow of the candles, and I was taken aback at how much I felt myself drawn to him. He was kind and caring, interested, and respectful. I wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but he was probably in his mid-thirties. I’d never dated anyone that much older than me, but I relished the feeling of maturity. There wasn’t an undercurrent of lust and angst detracting from the gourmet meal and detailed conversation. I was attracted to him, and had caught myself staring at his mouth and hands, wondering what it would be like, but there was an extra layer present that made the entire thing feel very grown up and sophisticated.
“Paris,” I answered. “I mean, I want to go just about everywhere someday, but Paris is my first stop.”
Logan smiled and his eyes glowed amber in the low light. “Excellent choice. You know, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’d make a pretty good tour guide.”
I laughed softly. “Oh really?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes locked with mine, dancing with a suggestion that made my entire body tremble. “I would love to explore things with you.”
I licked my lips and dropped my eyes just for a beat. “I’d like that.”
When I looked up, he held my eyes for a moment longer than normal, letting the heat build between us. He poured an extra inch into my glass, and then lifted his wine glass to toast. “To adventure, art, and Paris!”
I clinked my glass with his and sipped back the sweet wine. As we finished, the server approached and served dessert. We meandered through the tiramisu and talked as though we were making an itinerary for all the places to go in the City
of Lights.
After we’d polished off the decadent dessert, Logan paid the bill and walked me back outside to my car. We’d met at the restaurant since there wasn’t a good place for me to leave my car after class. I didn’t trust my brothers to not come and act like asshats again if I’d had Logan pick me up at the house. Plus, there was the added layer of comfort by having easy access to my escape plan in case things didn’t work out—especially on a first date.
“We are definitely doing this again,” Logan said as we came to a stop in front of my car. The tone of his voice had an edge of control to it, and a flash of Grant shivered through my mind.
I blinked it away and gave him my best smile. “Absolutely. I’m gonna be busy this week, but maybe we can do lunch? Otherwise, next weekend?”
“I’d like that.” Logan ran a hand down my arm and captured my hand for a moment. He ran his thumb over my knuckles as though memorizing the shape, and then brought them up to his lips, brushing them with a soft, feather light kiss. The gesture was so innocent, but the slow, deliberate kiss, and the look in his eyes, sent a rush of sparks over my skin, lighting me up. “Goodnight, Megan Louise.”
He released my hand and opened the driver door for me once I unlocked it. He stood and waited as I drove out of the parking lot. I looked back over my shoulder and saw him offer a final wave goodbye, before I eased into the street and made my way across town to Max’s apartment.
Logan had been more than I’d expected…much, much more, and yet, I found myself drifting back to thoughts of Grant, and wondering how the night would have gone if he’d been the one sitting across the table from me in Logan’s place. I’d never been pursued by two men at the same time—I’d never even considered it as a possibility and was the first to admit I was in way over my head. I’d shut things down with Grant, and was still angry with him for trying to control my life, but something told me it wasn’t over yet. My mind still reeled with possibility when I knocked on Max’s door twenty minutes later.
“Hey,” he greeted me, pulling the door wide open to let me in. I’d gone home in between class and meeting Logan, just long enough to pack a few changes of clothes and my basic bathroom accessories in a small overnight case. I’d seen my dad on the way out and told him I was staying at a friend’s for a few days. The fact that he hadn’t jumped down my throat with a list of a hundred questions and half a dozen cautionary tales was unnerving. I’d paused with my hand on the front door, thinking of turning back to rip the band aid off the situation, but in the end, had decided it wouldn’t be the right time and had slipped from the house without another word.
“Thanks again, Max. I really appreciate this.” I entered the apartment and followed as Max showed me to the second bedroom so I could put my small overnight bag down. There was a bed and a set of drawers. As Max had said, it was simple, but functional. I was feeling better already.
“No worries. You want a drink?” he asked, leading me back to the living room. I noted a few empty beer cans on the coffee table, and realized he was already a few drinks in.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I had wine at dinner. But go ahead, don’t let me rain on your parade.”
He smiled and went to the fridge to retrieve another beer. “Where’d you go?” he asked, coming back into the living room.
I sat on the couch and slipped out of my heels. I’d worn my favorite green dress and the pair of kitten heels that I’d worn at the gallery showing. I’d liked the height they put me at with Logan. “I had a date actually.”
Max’s face flickered and his smile fell. “Oh, that’s cool.”
I’d never really talked about my love life with Max, that was something I usually saved for when Jeanine and I would hang out one on one, but since he was apparently my last friend standing, I figured there was no harm in giving him the scoop. “Yeah, we met at the gallery. He was really sweet about everything, you know, with Robbie and Phillip.”
Max bobbed his head and took a long chug from his beer.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, cocking my head as Max’s irritation seemed to grow.
He stared at me for a moment and I noticed his eyes were a little glossy. “Yeah, sure. I’m cool.” He got up and came to sit next to me on the couch. He pressed in a little too close and I inched away to put more space between us. “You’re so pretty, Megan. I’m sure there’s a line of guys wanting to ask you out.”
“Umm,” I fumbled with my thoughts, unable to speak. Max had never been this way before and the entire conversation was unnerving. “You know, I’m really tired. Would you mind if I called it a night?”
Max didn’t seem to register what I’d said. He swooped in closer and I could smell the overpowering stench of beer on his breath. “I’ve never told you this before, Taylor always told me not to tell, but I like you, Megan. Like, I like you, like you. You know?”
“That’s sweet, Max, but I’m kinda seeing someone now,” I replied. I wasn’t really sure where things were going with Logan, but it made for an easy out. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I wasn’t interested and needed out of the sticky situation. “Listen, if this is going to be awkward, I can go to a hotel or something tonight. It’s not a big deal.”
Max stood up and crossed the room to where my purse was. He plucked my car keys from the open pocket on the side and dangled them in the air like they were a toy. “You’re not going to a hotel.”
I got up from my seat on the couch, moving in slow motion, and crossed to where he was standing. “Max, come on, just give me the keys and I’ll get out of here.” I reached for the keys and he yanked them up out of my reach.
“No, I don’t think so.” Before I could even process it, he crossed the kitchen and threw the keys out the open kitchen window.
“Oh my God! Max, what the fuck?” I screeched. I couldn’t hear the keys land and judging by the throw, they would be impossible to find in the dark. My heart jumped into my throat, racing at a desperate pace. I darted down the hall, to grab my overnight bag, and when I came back down the hall, Max was standing in the hall, blocking my path. “Just let me leave, Max. You’re drunk!”
“I’m not drunk, come on, Megan. You want me—I see the way you look at me.” He lunged at me and ran his face up my cheek. I shuddered and pushed him off. He tried again, this time with more force. I wriggled free and started for the front door. I made it three steps before he latched onto my arm and started tugging me down the hall. He was much larger than me, and for a moment I felt completely powerless to stop him as he dragged me like a rag doll. Halfway down the hall, my instincts kicked in, and I reeled back and kicked him in between the legs. He grunted and collapsed to the floor, holding himself, and I bolted.
I scrambled out the door and down the stairs at a break neck pace and then ran, my heels clicking as I raced down the sidewalk. I thought about veering off the path to search for my keys in the lot behind the apartment complex, but it was dark outside and the idea spooked me. I ran until my legs spasmed and only then did I stop long enough to find my cell phone. I didn’t know if Max had followed me, but I had to get away, as far and as fast as possible. As soon as I stopped running, hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I stared at the phone in my hand and my mind went blank, not knowing who to call. My dad would freak the hell out and make things worse, Robbie and Phillip likely wouldn’t even pick up the phone if I called, and Sam was too far away. My mind landed on Logan, but I shook that away. He’d already seen way more of my personal drama than I would’ve liked. If he had to come scoop me off some sidewalk in the middle of the night, that’d probably be the last I ever saw of him.
That only left one person…
I could barely see the screen through the pools of tears, but managed to get Grant on the phone by the time I’d reached the end of the street.
“Megan, what’s wrong?” His voice was so alarmed and I started to cry all over again, heartbroken by the sound of concern.
“I need help. I was with my friend, and h
e tried to—” my words broke and I sniffed loudly. “Anyways, I told him no and he got really, really mad, and he threw my keys, so I can’t go home and the busses don’t run this time, and I don’t know what else to do.”
“Stay there, I’m coming right now. I’m calling the police.”
My heart leaped inside me and thud out a new, even more frantic rhythm. “No! No, please, Grant. Don’t do that.”
“He hurt you, Megan,” Grant said, and I knew his teeth were grit together.
“No, he scared me. He didn’t—we were drinking—it was just…”
There was a pause, and I desperately wished I knew what he was thinking. I hoped I didn’t sound stupid. “Grant, please. Just you, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, his voice low and thick. “Where are you?”
“At the corner of Central and West Thirty-second.”
“Oh God, Megan, stay there, and swear that you will call the police if he so much as looks at you until I get there.”
I nodded and licked my lips, looking back over my shoulder, as though Grant’s words would conjure Max from the bushes.
“Megan!”
I whipped back around. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I promise.”
“Good. I’ll be there soon.”
I clicked off the call, my hands still shaking, and shoved the phone deep into my pocket. I checked behind me one more time but the street was deserted. I found a bus stop a little ways down the block and sat down at the bench, my eyes staring, unfixed at the road, waiting for Grant’s car to roll up.