-Edited-
I may be jumping into the relationship too fast by saying this, but there will never be a dull moment with Logan by my side.
There's an afterparty in full swing at one of the player's house, but knowing I can only deal with crowds for a few hours before reaching burn out, Logan took me to an outdoor movie theater instead.
"This is way better than some stuffy house party," I whisper, trying not to disturb the other movie goers who are already ten minutes into Clueless. "And seeing one of my favorite classics? You're such a thoughtful date planner."
"I thought you'd like it," Logan says in a low voice. His dark green eyes shine like emeralds under the light of the huge movie screen. "I heard a coworker talking about this event at the popcorn stand last week, so figured we could go together."
I help him spread a checkered blanket over the trimmed grass and somewhere in the process, our fingers collide. He takes the opportunity to kiss the back of my hand, and I bite my lip to stifle the embarrassing squeal threatening to escape me as we dive onto the plush material.
"You hungry?" he asks. He says this with a small blue cooler in hand, and I purse my lips in contemplation. I ate the cotton candy he bought me on the way here, and glancing at the multiple pretzel, popcorn, and hotdog stands lined on the sides of the crowd has my stomach churning at the thought of the salty and greasy options.
"Not for anything here," I say with a quick head shake.
"What about chocolate covered strawberries for my little sugar fiend?" I snatch the container out of his hands quicker than he can take the fruit out of the cooler, hugging it to my chest like it'll be taken at any minute.
"Keep checking all the boxes, Logan, and I'll have to..."
"Have to what?" he asks, signaling for me to go on with a small smirk.
I blush, ducking my head down and taking a bite out of the chocolate covered fruit to buy some time. "You've done so much for me in a short amount of time. I need to start pulling my weight."
"How many relationships have you been in?"
He takes a strawberry for himself and looks at me expectantly. I can't help but wonder how serious his question is, though. I'd always thought the answer was obvious to him.
"This would be my first." Logan's eyes widen as he sputters around the strawberry. "Oh, come on! How many guys do you think would be willing to date a girl whose family has been on the news for not-so-good reasons?" I say patting his back gently.
Instead of the disgusted expression I expect he'd make at the reminder of my past, he takes my breath away as a wide boyish grin spreads on his face. "Perhaps I'm just crazy, then."
"Very," I confirm.
It's silent for a few minutes as I pay attention to a movie I've seen dozens of times. But I can feel Logan's eyes on me; an intense gaze that sends a nervous shiver up my spine. Keeping my eyes glued to the screen goes from me actually paying attention to the movie to finding something to keep my mind occupied with.
"Paige," Logan says. He places a hand on my thigh, instantly stealing my attention. Every now and then I find myself trying to hide from him even if we're right next to each other. Like there's a part of me he's yet to see that'll trigger him to run if he discovers it, but Logan is someone who has seen it all and contrary to what I always believed to any guy I'd be with, he's still here.
"I don't see dating as transactional. You know, like, I planned two dates now you have to plan the next two to catch up. We do what we can. And besides, I'm still making up for being an ass."
"Consider it made up," I say, placing the last strawberry to his lips as a peace offering. He takes it, parting his lips and biting the fruit in half. He goes for the other half but I take it instead, plucking the last bit off it's stem while holding his stunned stare.
"What?" I ask, fidgeting as his eyes stay glued to my lips.
He puts a hand under my chin and uses his thumb to wipe at some chocolate left on the corner of my mouth. His hand stays there, however, and we engage in the most intense staring contest I've ever experienced in my life.
He sighs. "Just wishing I picked a more private date spot." He winks, turning back to the movie like he didn't just drop such a smooth line. But he's aware. Logan smirks at the screen, leaving me to regain the breath he just stole from me.
We actually do begin to pay attention to the movie about half way in, but I begin to fidget on the blanket. I've been using my arms as a cushion for my head, but they've fallen asleep now and I'm at a loss for how to position myself in the most comfortable way possible.
"I forgot pillows. That's on me." Logan sticks his arm out on the blanket. "Use my body as a substitute. Take it as an 'I'm sorry.'"
I happily take him up on the offer. I cuddle close to his body, him now lying on his back. Clueless becomes background noise as we stare up at the stars. I noticed many other couples doing the same; stuck in a bubble of their own and ignoring the movie altogether.
I don't know how much time passes. It could be ten seconds, or ten hours and I wouldn't comprehend it. But I know I don't want this moment with Logan to end, so I burrow myself deeper into his side, counting every thump of his steady heartbeat and tuning into the sound of his breathing like a lullaby.
Feeling a surge of courage, I lift my head to face him. I trace my thumb on his eyebrow, making him chuckle. "What's up?" he asks.
I know if I think too much of it I'll back out, so I don't give my brain a chance to conjure whatever worst case scenario it can think up and lean in. The target is his lips, of course, but I fumble with the speed and angles side of things. Our noses collide in a not-so romantic turn of events.
"Ow!" we say in unison. Pain blossoms on the bridge of my nose, but it can't possibly compare to what Logan feels.
"Sorry! So sorry. This is why I don't make first moves." I scrunch my nose a few times to ease the pain; my attention on that rather than the embarrassment I should be feeling.
Logan pinches his. "Did the bleeding start again?"
"All clear," I say, spotting no red.
He wiggles his nose then stops. We stare at each other for a good five seconds before our bodies begin to shake with barely contained laughter. We are, after all, still in public.
"Let me," he says, his voice evening out towards the end.
"Let you wha-"
I'm stunned as Logan takes control of the situation. He flips me on my back, gently maneuvering our bodies on the red and black checkered blanket so that he's on top. I gasp, but his lips are on mine within a second, silencing any sound before it has a chance to escape.
I've never shared such an intimate moment with anyone. The kissing scenes I witnessed on shows or movies made it seem easy, flawless even. But my mind spins like a wheel, landing on an array of different emotions one by one: worry that he knows I have no idea what I'm doing, eager to check a first off my list, and safety in the arms of someone who cares for me.
I don't know how I'm doing, but I take Logan upping the intensity as a positive sign. He softly bites my lower lip and presses further into me, our bodies so close I'm sure he can feel my quickening heartbeat.
His hands on my waist, mine running through his sleek locks as I silently wish the pleasant heat swirling in my stomach and stretching throughout my body could last forever.
That is, until I realize I'm not breathing...
I push against his shoulders and pull back with a sharp inhale. Both are chests rise and fall, mine much quicker than his. "I can't tell if your face is that red from nerves or lack of oxygen," Logan says cheekily.
"Little bit of both," I reply breathless. "You got a little something right here." I wipe a smudge of lip gloss off the corner of his lips. The action small yet gentle, just like he is with me.
Movement and shuffling pull our gazes to the side, removing our focus from one another and putting it on the other movie goers packing their belongings.
We pull apart with sheepish expressions. We kissed our way through the end. The credits begin to roll, a sign to call it a night.
It doesn't take us long to clean up our spot and head back to the car. Logan holding the cooler and me holding the folded blanket. We don't hold hands, but I don't gravitate more than an inch or two away from him as he navigates our way through the parking lot.
I feel like I'm floating. Lips still tingly and plump from the kiss he and I shared. I want this more often, nights like these. But not just with Logan. With all of my friends.
"Do you think you and Ashton will be able to patch things up?"
Logan suddenly freezes. I don't stop fast enough and bump into his back. I smile at the silly mishap, but it falls as soon as he turns around.
"Did you have to bring him up?" he asks, frowning.
"Uh," I start warily. "I didn't know I couldn't bring him up."
"Obviously. The guy just punched me less than three hours ago. Hearing his name isn't gonna make me too happy." He walks off without checking to see if I'm following. When he doesn't stop, I jog to catch up.
"I'm sorry," I say, breathless. I'm taking fast long strides in order to match his pace side by side. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was just thinking about how cool it'd be for everyone to hang together at times. But I'm a little clueless when it comes to people's feelings about one another. Clueless...ha!" Logan smiles at my attempt to ease the tension, but it's tight.
"Carmen and Trevor argue twice every hour or so. I don't want to be worried about you and Ashton knocking each other out in the midst of all that, you know?" He's still silent when we reach his car. We toss the items in the backseat and get in. "Maybe I can set up a time for you to talk it out with Ashton-"
"Stop saying his name!" Logan raises his voice, the sound making me jump as it ricochets off the interior of the small space until it lands us in a painful silence that seems to stretch on for longer than the three seconds it actually is. "I mean, take a hint, Paige. I don't like him and I never will. Play therapist for someone else. Another fact of dating: we don't have to share the same friends."
"Okay," I say, voice smaller than I'd like. I kick off my flats and sit cross-legged on the seat. I'm unsure of how to feel about what transpired. I don't know if it snowballed from me or him. Sure, I could've waited a few days before bringing it up, but I let my excitement get the best of me. However, I can't stand when people raise their voice.
It reminds me of that horrible moment in the kitchen three years ago. When the Adams family was—although hanging by a thread—still in tact. Right before Jacob ran away and dad shattered grandma's vase and mom emotionally disconnected from everything.
The day I was yelled at in the kitchen marked the domino effect that began the collapse of my family home. If only I had kept my mouth shut then.
If only I had kept my mouth shut now. It always starts with this.
"Paige?" Logan questions, his tone noticeably softer. I keep my gaze trained on the window, staring at a couple holding hands and crossing the street to keep from turning back to him. If I do, I might break.
He sighs when I don't react. I feel him moving a section of my hair behind my back. "I'm sorry."
Logan starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. The night ends the same way it began—with us driving in silence. Except this time the quiet is unsettling.
"This isn't how I wanted the night to end," he starts, turning the music down. His voice, smooth yet cautious, drifts above the beat. "Look, you can hang out with him if you want, but I won't be involved."
I nod absentmindedly, counting the houses as we pass.
"Although, I don't think you should." He turns the music back up. I look to him so fast I'm surprised I don't get whiplash.
"What?" I ask, reaching to turn the music down once again.
Logan runs his hand through his sandy locks, frustrated. "I'm worried about what could happen..." He glances at my confused expression before continuing. "He's dangerous, Paige."
"And what could have possibly happened at camp to make you think that?"
"I learned about his family. How they get their hands dirty with things they should stay away from."
My thoughts drift to the day Ashton and I skip together. The resentment towards his parents, the "spoiled rotten" comment made by Rafael, along with this warning from Logan. How likely is it that Ashton's family is involved in financial criminal activity? I wouldn't have guessed it by just looking at him, but I'm sure that's what others have said about me. Nothing is far fetched anymore.
I shake off the negative thoughts. I'm doing the same to Ashton and his family that everyone does to me and mine. "Did you forget whose house was raided because her brother can't keep his hands out of dirty business?" I ask with my arms crossed, defensive.
We pull into my drive way. Mom's car is unsurprisingly missing even though the clock ticks closer to midnight.
Logan holds up his hands in surrender, giving my crossed arms and sour expression a once over. "All I said was I don't think you should. Not that you can't. I'm your boyfriend; not your parent. Do what you think is best, but at the end of the day I want you safe."
My arms fall to my sides as do the emotional walls that were slowly building back up during our conversation. The rug was pulled from under us so fast; our romantic night turned into a disagreement in the blink of an eye. But at least it stemmed from his need to protect instead of scold me.
"I know how it is when Carmen chastises you. I don't want to make you feel like that," he finishes.
"Thank you..." I say. I lean over to hug him, thanking him for more than just his understanding. "...for the best night I've had in a while."
He gives me a quick peck on the lips. When he pulls his arm back, I notice something new.
"What's this?" I pull the sleeve of his shirt down to reveal a fresh tattoo on his wrist. The black 'x' is so small it can pass for a minor skin blemish if someone weren't looking hard enough. It's new, covered with a layer of clear ointment. "You got a tattoo?!"
Logan laughs it off, wiggling his sleeve back down. "My friend's brother runs a tattoo shop out of his basement. He bet me to play a film trivia game; if I won he'd get a tat but if I lost..." He holds up his wrist with a strained smile.
"You lost at film trivia?"
"It was fifty questions and the timer went really fast! My anxiety got the best of me," he sighs dramatically. "Let's just hope it doesn't get infected."
I yawn. My body begins to shut down now that I'm back home. "Get inside, baby. It's late."
I do so without a fight. I slam the car door shut and leap up the steps leading to my front door. I turn to wave, but he's already pulled out of my drive way. I wave and smile anyway; just in case he stops for a second to look back.
But Logan doesn't.