"Please, describe it to me again." Harper snorted and clenched her sides with both hands. Her cheeks were bright red, her breasts bounced to pop out of her top, and she almost fell off our bench. "This shit is hilarious."
"Three recalls is embarrassing enough." My cheeks warmed. "I'm glad no one got hurt."
"I'm sorry." She gasped and dragged the tips of her fingers over her watery eyes. "As much as I wanted a guy laying on top of you, I didn't think it'd go down like that."
I didn't either, but 'going down' sounded awful in the wrong context. "Harper, he was unconscious. You and your innuendos." I put a hand over my warm forehead. Her lack of verbal inhibitions was one reason I loved her, but this was why I didn't tell her right away. I knew she'd twist it in a dirty direction.
"He laid on top of you." She smirked and matched my slumped-over posture by leaning forward. Her shoulder bumped mine, and she whispered, "Most parts of him still functioned normally. What dildo size did he measure up to?"
Oh, my gosh. Her question was beyond inappropriate. I cupped my hot cheeks and depressed the pads of my fingers into my temples. "Harper!"
"Give me one thing." She nudged my arm. "Any details, please? Did he smell nice or reek of testosterone and fast-finishing disappointment?"
I exhaled a held-in breath. Logan's fall happened so fast, with witnesses, and other than being squished, all I felt was beyond embarrassment. Logan's arms were much better at catching me than I was him. Once we landed, I was too focused on him crushing my lungs. He outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds.
The recall though? Flushed me with heat every time, and not solely from embarrassment. Logan's dead weight heaviness pressed down on me. He landed with his nose between my breasts, which tingled sensitively from his hot breaths. I managed to wiggle lower, which was a mistake when his chest smashed my breasts into pancakes, and I rubbed our hips together.
Harper was right; parts of him worked. More than the fact he passed out, I felt safe. Like I burrowed under some giant Logan blanket, which made no sense. Harper would tell me I needed to get under more guys. Considering the last boy with a build similar to Logan's who laid over me was a circumstance in sheer terror, a rush of comfort was the farthest reaction I expected.
It'd been a long week, and these conflicting thoughts hadn't helped.
"Honestly?" I hid the smile that tugged on my lips by rolling them in. "Yeah. He doesn't wear cologne, but he smells like a fresh, clean shower. One of those spring-scented brands."
A crisp breeze tickled a few strands of hair across my forehead. I tucked them behind my ears and pushed out a quiet sigh. We sat on a makeshift stage in the middle of Seaside's football field. The building's gray-brown painted brick exterior was accented with white outlines around the windows. It was surrounded by rolling green hills topped with a dense treeline.
The book fair was much more than I imagined. An impressive amount of organization transformed the field into a homegrown carnival atmosphere, with large tents of gently used books, small kiddie rides, a petting zoo, games organized by Seaside's PTA, and a food area.
I curled my fingers around Harper's wrist and dragged her into the first book tent. The lovely smell of aging paperbacks tickled my senses from one pile of treasures after another. She dragged me out when my fingers brushed over a beautiful copy of The Way of All Flesh.
"You're wearing that look again." Harper smiled. "Is it because of Samuel Butler or Logan Hightower?"
"Samuel Butler." I whimpered, still feeling the pristine cover's imprint in my hand. "It was a limited-"
"Not as much as my patience. And what you need to buy is something with smut in it."
"What? Why?"
"Educational purposes, my dear Elle." Her eyes dragged down my appearance. "Contrary to dickhead's criticism, you look like a Valentine's Day snack."
The bite in her voice drew my eyes to hers. Her low-cut, baby blue lace cami, short jacket, tight jeans, and shin-height boots put her curves on full display. Jake eyed her the way I drooled over the churro stand. My black leggings and red V-neck shirt with three-quarter sleeves were fine until Harper sat next to me. "I'm surprised he saw anything but Chloe." I shook my head and squeezed my hands.
In the most uncomfortable moment of this year, Jacob –as Chloe called him, with warmth pooling her eyes to a golden hue– set aside his arrogance. His voice and gaze softened at her, and his enamored expression was so unfamiliar it creeped me out. Awkward and weird, for sure.
Jake being smitten-kitten for Chloe elicited Harper's disgust. "I'm surprised we didn't drown in your brother's drool." A flush of pink sat on her cheeks, and the flecks of green in her eyes brightened them closer to a light aqua. Harper never blushed, but her pursed lips and icy glare were the ones she always reserved for Jake.
"Harper, are you..." The word 'jealous' dissolved on my tongue.
"Jealous?" Her head whipped back and forth, swishing her hair with it. "No. I don't like seeing him with girls, especially sweet, meek, innocent ones. He thinks he's so smooth, but he's such an asshole. They don't know that, basking in the glow of his attention."
I opened my mouth for my usual 'he's not that bad' spiel, but she waved her hand. "Enough about him. Are you going to see your asshole tonight? Because if anyone breaks your kissing drought, it needs to be the one who brought these out." Her index finger depressed near the left corner of my mouth, where I smiled all week. "You're excited to see Adonis."
Her teasing pulled my smile wider. I tucked the corners of my mouth into my cheeks. I shared most of the details with Harper, but not the part where I fell asleep and snuggled into him. He was so warm and inviting, and I drooled on him. How embarrassing.
I also hadn't shared, with Jake or Harper, that I had another nightmare. All week, I thought and thought about my dream changing until my head hurt enough to split open my skull. I couldn't figure it out and must be crazy because now Logan was in them. Why were they happening again? I wished I knew how to make them stop. While I hadn't had any more, one was enough to tailspin my mind through unanswered questions.
"Don't give me that look." Harper frowned. I wasn't aware I wore a look, but she shoved her phone screen in my face. "Feeling's mutual. Look at the shit he polluted my phone with."
EllesCrush: Can you give Ellie a message?
Me: You have five seconds before I get bored.
EllesCrush: Tell her, "Thinking about you, baby."
I cupped a hand to my warm cheek. My poor heart wrung itself in knots from his sweet, considerate message. Sending it to Harper was a bold move. What was I supposed to say? Thanks for turning my heart into liquid goo? Don't crush it to ash in your bare hands? Confess that I hadn't stopped thinking about him, wondering who was the real him
"I thought so. Lemme delete this, so Jake doesn't go into apeshit mode." She huffed and pocketed her phone. "So, baby, how many Seaside guys do you think we'll kiss today before Cupid's sap gets jealous?"
Harper's question, which she asked me every day this week without the jealousy part, haunted me on a similar schedule. I didn't go on dates or talk to guys. How was I supposed to kiss strangers? 'Pucker up and count your blessings' was my not-helpful best friend's only advice.
"Eleanor!" a male voice called. I smiled at Caleb's approach until he raised his eyebrows. "We should practice. Don't want any unsatisfied customers, do we?"
"Good idea." Harper stood and positioned herself between us, then pointed at the farthest away bench. "Go over there and suck the back of your hand."
The midday sun glowed on his bronzed cheeks as he grimaced and held up his hands. "Woah. Kidding. Who's your bodyguard, Eleanor?"
If he thought Harper was menacing, it was probably best he didn't meet Jake. "Harper," she said and palmed her hips. "Now, tuck dick and occupy that bench."
Caleb sent me a blank look and sat on the end bench. Harper handed me a small bottle of mouthwash and a can of mace. "I got you." She smirked and took the bench with direct access to the stairs.
My heart jumped at the first person who stepped up. A tall, muscular boy with black curls stepped on stage. His eyes scanned the scene, and he headed right for Harper. This might be more entertaining than self-sacrificing.
"This was a better idea in theory." I groaned at Harper.
With zero shame, her lips pressed against the ones attached to a rugged-looking guy in a Seaside baseball team T-shirt and black jeans. Her tight hold on his shoulders and soft 'mmph' sounds made me shift my eyes away. She moaned again before they finally pulled apart and gasped for air.
"Will you call me, Beautiful?" The boy, who was attractive with brown hair and medium brown eyes, leaned over and brushed a kiss on the side of her neck.
"Sure, beautiful." She leaned in, then swatted him off her neck with another giggle. "No freebies. One per customer, remember Chad?"
"It's Brad," he corrected her with a charming smile. "You stay here because I'm buying more tickets."
"Whatever." She shoved both her palms into his chest, then slapped a high five to Caleb on her way to my side of the stage. His lips were pink and swollen at their outline, evidence of his popularity here.
I sat on my bench, ankles crossed, elbows on my knees, chin in my palms, and wondered what the hell was going on. My kissing booth experience couldn't have been further from Harper's. The universe worked against me, and I had no idea why. The last hour's events were a jumbled mess in my mind.
Poor Brad's handsome face cast one more lovesick, sappy look back at Harper before he jumped off the stage. "I'm so glad we did this," Harper crooned with a breathy sigh and clapped her hands. "My lips are numb and swollen, but this was totally worth it. I've got eighteen numbers! That's a record for sure."
"Glad one of us enjoyed it." I rolled my eyes. My lips tingled with disappointment. I rinsed another round of mouthwash through my mouth and sat with a plop. Hopefully, the rinse removed the bad memories and contact germs.
"What?" She stood near the edge of my bench, where one of her black boot heels propped up next to me. "You didn't get any numbers?"
I buried my face in my palms and rubbed my eyes. Given who I kissed tonight, I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or concerned. "Oh, I did." My reply was as dry as the back of my throat and as bitter as if I rinsed with vinegar.
Throughout our volunteer lip services, hot guy after hot guy kissed Harper. On my bench, I'd gotten full-faced acne, braces brushed against my teeth, older guys, and I was pretty sure Seaside High's AV club and marching band's percussion section. And, Larry, questionably, one of the janitors. At Larry's double thumbs up, Caleb threw me a sympathetic shrug. For his part, a hot girl after hot girl climbed into his lap.
I also saw zero signs Logan was here. Guess he was pulling another disappearing act. This had better be the best damn Pulitzer-prize-winning college recommendation letter because my ego was so bruised. Was I that unattractive to the opposite sex?
I parted my fingers at Harper's words, "There are still two guys left. Look at this total dickhead mouth-breather." Of all guys, Bryce's determined blue eyes and cocky swagger approached. I gasped at how he marched straight for me. His gaze was a missile locked onto its target.
Oh, shit.
My stomach lurched, and I stretched my eyes as far as they went. Harper intercepted him n a flash of blonde hair and long legs. I missed her words, but he grabbed her shoulders, bent her backward, and smashed his mouth on hers. His hands slid to her lower back, bent her over like a sailor in Manhattan, and tried to stick his tongue down her throat. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the cringy train wreck of an exchange, entranced in a conflict between horrified for poor Harper and relieved I wasn't in that position.
Harper proved that she more capably handled the situation. She gagged and clenched her jaw in a movement that made him wince. "Oww!" Bryce clapped a palm over his mouth and glared at her. "You bit me!"
"And you tried to lick my tonsils," she retorted with her own narrow-eyed glare. "Now we're even."
"Don't lie, sugar tits. I know you enjoyed it." He reached around Harper to slap her on the butt, but she caught his wrist mid-air.
"You have five seconds to fuck off before I make sure you never jerk off with this hand again." She clenched her fingers into the skin on his wrist and turned it over, which twisted Bryce's back into an arch. "Choose carefully because your hand is the only thing going home with you tonight."
"Suga-" Harper's other hand clutched his crotch. By his strained look, her grab wasn't a pleasant one. "Three seconds." She glowered and the muscles from her shoulder to wrist tensed. I rolled my lips in and pressed them together. She squeezed harder, and his eyes bugged out. "Three, two-"
Bryce lifted his hands off Harper and threw them up. "Hands off the crown jewels. We're cool."
"No, we're cool." Harper wagged a finger between her and her. "You're an asshole. Goodbye."
"I'm Bryce." He gave Harper a look best described as one full of lust and admiration, which couldn't have been less reciprocated.
"I'm anything but interested." Typical Harper followed up her blunt response with a raised middle finger. Unfazed, Bryce grinned, but he obliged and stepped to the stage exit. He paused to give her another look before he jumped off. Harper and I interrupted into loud, uncontrollable giggles.
"Very impressive." I nodded at her hands. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Dad's police drama shows." One of her shoulders lifted, and she emptied the rest of her mouthwash into her mouth. She held up one 'wait' finger, swizzled her mouth loudly, and left to spit it out on the ground behind the stage. "When in doubt, grab the junk."
"And it was going so well tonight, too." Harper palmed her chest, which lifted and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Guess if you step up to bat then sometimes you strike out. My eighteen potential fuck-buddies will have to do."
I blinked. "You're not going to contact all eighteen guys, are you?" A frown tensed the area between my eyebrows. "What about Ryan?"
Her gaze shifted over my shoulder. A flicker of interest flashed in her eyes at whatever caught her attention. I clenched my legs to stand, but one 'stop' gesture from her sat my butt down with a plop. I groaned. What candidate was my last? The groundskeepers? I'd had enough horrible kisses to last through graduation.
"What?" I leaned forward in my seat but saw nothing around the stage. Anticipation hummed in my veins, which increased when Harper's eyes sparkled. I palmed my hands between my legs and squeezed them with my inner thighs.
"One more." Harper's smirk carved deeper into her cheeks. "And I'm positive this one's not here to kiss me."
A low-toned, familiar, deep male voice stiffened every vertebra in my spine. "There you are." Two crystallized ocean-blue eyes pierced into me, freezing me in my seat. My heart dropped lower inside my chest, ambushed by an army of butterflies waging war in my stomach. Within two steps, he towered over me.
"Logan?" I gripped the edge of my bench and swayed under the rush of lightheadedness between my temples. My tongue dried, and an internal pressure squeezed my throat tighter, but I choked out, "You're here." My heart thumped to the point of pain. Heat rushed through me, chased by giddy excitement. He was here! Was he my last kiss?
"I heard you were here." One hand rested by his side, and the other folded behind his back. An unusually shaky smile played on his lips, but the sparkle in his eyes was visible even from our vertical distance. "And I'd better be, baby."
Oh, shit. I said that last kiss part out loud. My heart swooned in a curl of delight around that nickname. I blinked to drag myself out of my mesmerized state. "Don't play with me. I'm not your baby."
"Ellie." The lightness in his eyes and smile faded, pulling my heart with them. "I need to talk to you. And give you these."
His tensed bicep relaxed, and he revealed a bunch of daisies and a small, wrapped present. He thrust the items into my hands, where I smiled at the yellow centers in white petals and their soft, field-like scent. "Logan." Trembles took over my fingers, and the wrapping paper and cellophane crinkled in my grasp.
"I'm sorry, Ellie." In one quick movement, he bent one knee and knelt on the other one between my shoes. The position placed his head a couple of inches lower than mine. My lips parted at our proximity, so close that one hinge in my hips pressed my lips against his. I wanted that so, so desperately, and squirmed where I sat. My heart now hammered away at my chest. Only the apology heavy in his eyes held me back.
I searched his eyes for any sign, any hint that he teased me or, worse, set me up. All I saw was the openness of someone who openly admitted he screwed up in a rare but touching display of transparency, honesty, and vulnerability. I couldn't let him off that easily and lifted the flowers to my nose for a pretend sniff, unable to contain my smile. "How do I know if you're serious?"
"I'll take those!" Harper pushed between us with a 'Be careful' look and snatched the flowers from my hands.
My smile faded. I didn't want to tie my feelings down. I wanted them unleashed in an unbridled display unsuitable for a kids' carnival. I wanted to know how he kissed. What did he taste like? Would his hands cup behind my head or hold my face? Those broad, lumpy shoulders were relaxed. If I palmed his chest, was it racing as fast as mine?
His only response was to blink at me with a blank expression, until a frown creased his handsome face, drawing his dark blonde eyebrows closer. I caught my next breath. Trapped in my lungs, I searched the mix of deep blue undertones and brilliant highlights and found no signs of teasing. If I hadn't been seated, the contrast between the determination settling in his eyes and his soft, gentle voice would've knocked me over. His encouraging smile slipped, and the corners of his mouth turned down. Flickers of sadness subdued the hope pooling in his gaze. His muted words were more to himself than me, but the tender confession seized my heart. "All I'm asking for is a chance to know you better."
The words relaxed the strain in his jaw and shoulders. "Fuck, I like you, Ellie. Probably too much because I don't deserve for you to like me back."
My answer was on the tip of my tongue when resolve hardened his voice. "Let me show you, starting with asking you to Homecoming."
Oh. Oh? Not the direction I thought he would go. The whisper, "Yours or mine?" tumbled out.
"Both," he answered with a soft smile and hand cupped my cheek. I was weak everywhere, melting under his words and the emotions he put behind him. Both!? Oh gosh. That was bold. So bold. He wanted... us at his school and mine? A tiny flicker of uncertainty appeared in his eyes. "But, if you tell me-"
"She doesn't need to tell you shit, other than fuck off!" the voice I knew anywhere crashed in a very unwelcome interruption. Tell me what? My brain screamed. Yes?
Jake's approach brought a crashing sense of 'Noooo!' along with it. A shiver ran down my spine. Goosebumps pricked a small path up the back of my neck. Vibrations from Jake's stomps hummed under my feet. He moved in quick steps, but I was in slow motion and grounded my feet between Logan's legs.
"Tell me one thing." As fast as my fingers moved, I reached up to the back of his neck. "Do you really mean it?"
"Yes. I-" I silenced Logan with a press of my lips dangerously close to the corner of his. It wasn't the kiss that I wanted, the kiss that my body screamed for with a wrench of disappointment, but it was the one that delivered my message.
I like you too.
Despite my ass of a brother.
"Ellie." Jake's menacing sneer appeared over Logan's head, but my move brought his feet to a halt. The explosive rage flushed his face and neck red, and his eyes shifted to more black than brown. A deep, threatening voice that sounded awful from my brother's mouth roared out. "I fucking told you to stay away from her!" His fists grabbed Logan's shirt from behind and yanked. Logan's eyes widened, and his shirt collar gouged the base of his neck. He stood and turned, the shadows of strained muscles in his neck and shoulders etching them with definition.
Jake's right fist lifted back, but Harper's hands caught his wrist. "I've had about enough of you today," she muttered. She sunk her nails deep into his skin, one hand on his forearm and the other on his bicep.
I stepped around Logan and thrust myself into his side, which put my head right near Jake's left fist clenched onto his shirt. "Don't," I gritted out in a tight warning and palmed my hand over Jake's strained fist. The sinewed tendons on the back of his hand relaxed under my touch. "He's here to fucking apologize. That's it."
Jake blinked. His face looked so impassive that his lack of a reaction pissed me off. When my lips parted in protest, his expression hardened again, with a clenched jaw and glared invisible daggers at Logan. "You're apologizing too much to her lately."
"That's between me and Ellie." Logan's calm, almost too calm given the chokehold number Jake's fist did on his shirt, voice flowed over my head.
I trailed my fingers down Logan's closest arm, relaxed compared to the vein protruding from Jake's forearm, coiled my fingers, and nestled them in the warm palm of his slacked hand. His eyes stayed locked on Jake's, but his fingers twitched around mine. Logan didn't want to cause a scene.
My idiotic brother ignored my request, glaring at Logan as if I didn't exist. Thankfully, Harper took a more direct approach and shoved Jake's shoulders. "The fuck is wrong with you? Trying to pick a fight at a charity probably isn't the impression you're trying to make... on Chloe." She gave him a venomous look and shoved him until he released Logan's shirt with a grunt.
With a loud, sharp exhale, he palmed the center of Logan's chest and shoved him back. In short, staccato words, Jake spat out, "Stay. The. Fuck. Away from Ellie, Hightower."
To Logan's credit, he held his ground, as still as a statue except for steadying his shoulders. After a few silent moments of some weird, ape-like stare-down, Jake finally broke the tension when he quietly scoffed. I released a shaky breath when he turned and walked away. His shoulders scrunched up to his ears, and he stomped loud enough to hear from the parking lot. With one last dark look and sneer, Jake said over his shoulder, "If I see you again, then next time I won't hold back."
It wasn't an empty threat but a promise. Jake's glare shifted to me. "And stay away from him, Ellie. Go home with Harper when you're done."
Go home? Go home!?
While he did what? Fucking hypocrisy.
I closed my eyes and pushed my hand into the warmth of Logan's. His squeeze sent a rush of relaxation up my arm, but his stoic resolve broke. His spine stiffened, and a chill ran over my hand as he released it.
"Never a dull moment with that dickhead," Harper's muttered words cut through the awkward silence Jake left behind, and she shook her head. Her eyes shifted between us, back and forth, until she smiled. "Don't need to be told when I'm third-wheeling," she murmured, spun on one heel, and marched to the other side of the stage. While I appreciated the privacy of her standing out of earshot, she turned and flashed Logan an 'eyes on you' hand gesture.
My heart thumped painful, echoing beats during each second of silence. I hadn't seen Logan's stiff, distanced, and cold demeanor before. I looked down and shifted my weight, hugging my elbows. A tortured look, like he wished for something impossible, covered his face, then he stepped toward the stage's exit.
"I'm sorry, Logan." I grabbed his forearm and tugged. Tiny warm tingles spread from his arm into the pads of my fingers. "Wait. It's alright-"
"It's not." His voice was low and steady, devoid of all emotion. He removed my hand, dragged his fingers over his hair, and scrubbed the back of his neck with his palm. With downcast eyes, he admitted in a quiet but firm tone, "I'm sorry. You don't deserve to be in the middle. Your brother... Fuck, I don't know, but I'm sorry, Ellie. I won't be that guy that can't take a hint or come between you two."
Logan placed a warm, gentle hand on my shoulder, leaned over, and brushed a gentle kiss against my temple. My skin tingled under the grace of soft contact. His lips lingered long enough to whisper another "I'm sorry" into my forehead. Within a blink, he turned and walked to the stage.
"No. No." I caught his hand, curling my fingers around his. After weeks, I wanted answers. Answer that indicated whether or not I could trust Logan. "From what I saw, it was more one-sided than in the middle. If you're leaving, I... I want to go with you."
"You do?" he asked, and I nodded. Hope warmed his eyes and fought his guarded smile. "What about Mister Fists of Fury?"
"As someone very unfiltered once said." I interlocked our fingers. "Fuck Jake."