Harper: Text me what happened with Adonis if you won't tell me the details. Now.
Details? Warmth flowed into my cheeks at the memory of Logan's warm, soft kisses. The sensations I felt while kissing him weren't me, how my heart leaped in my chest, my skin flushed warm from the inside out, and my body buzzed electricity surged through my veins. His lips gave mine tenderness and care. The feel of his warm hands on my skin flushed my cheeks hot.
I shivered. How much I liked him, especially considering how we met, came with an edge of trepidation. Hopefully, he felt the same. Did he? He was supportive and assuring at the beach, but maybe the heaviness of what I told him sank in and changed his mind. I wouldn't blame him; it was a lot to digest, and we were long-distance. We weren't in a relationship, but how would that work? It was only Tuesday, and Logan's silence chewed at me. As much as I wanted to assume he was busy because of Friday's game, I really, really wanted to know what that Gigantor was up to.
Maybe texting Harper would distract me... or make it worse.
Me: No kissing and telling. 🤐
Harper: Bullshit!!
Harper: That means there was kissing, so you'd better be telling.
Harper: Unless it was bad?
Harper: If that didn't satisfy you then check under your mattress when you get home tonight. 🤪
I smiled at her conversation with herself until that last line. "What?" Of course, she left one behind. Hopefully, it was the smallest one wedged between my mattress and boxsprings.
Me: Not funny!!
Harper: Dear Elle... if it's funny, you aren't using it correctly.
As much as I wanted a diversion, that wasn't the kind I had in mind. The only action that the dildo deserved was thrown in the trash.
Me: You're too much. New topic, please.
Harper: I hooked up with Ryan. 😉
"Wow," I whispered to my lap.
"Who are you texting so much?" Jake's voice snapped my head up.
I flipped around my screen. "Harper. Chill, Jake."
He frowned and shook his head, a noticeable clench in his jaw. "I don't want to see that, Ellie."
"Jealous?" I teased and rolled my eyes at his continued grumbling. "Ryan must be pretty important if she met up with him after kissing all those guys. Wouldn't hurt you to be happy for her, for once."
Me: Do I get to meet him?
Harper: Hopefully.
Me: I'd like that.
I meant those simple three words. If Ryan was important to her, he needed to pass the best friend test. For all of Harper's antics with guys, other than a vague reference using vulgar nicknames, her guys were a mystery. She preferred anonymity, so I never pushed about why she needed to hide them.
My phone vibrated a miniature earthquake in my palm.
Harper: I haven't heard of any Mt. Jake eruptions.
Harper: Did you tell him yet?
Harper: I need some serious details.
Harper: and possibly popcorn. 🍿
I lifted my eyes to the chauffeur himself. Another hellish work shift. No thanks to him.
Me: Tell you later.
A fine, greasy film coated my skin and ugly uniform, and I squirmed in my seat. My swollen feet throbbed beats, and my skin itched from these horrible, starchy pants. I wanted to go home and enjoy the process of scrubbing today off. My brain was numb with too much information and feelings, and my arms, legs, and every muscle and joint in between felt like I'd been run over by a bus or tackled by one of Jake's linemen.
A dull headache lingered through my motions at school, but I was too busy to process my thoughts at work. My football team babysitters attracted the largest crowd so far. Every greasy inch of Pizza Palace was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with football players, their girlfriends, hopeful future girlfriends, hopeful future 'good enough' girls, fans, parents, and neighbors. The line wrapped around the sidewalk, and the atmosphere buzzed over Friday's game.
The mentions of 'Logan Hightower,' from hushed whispers to Jake's teammates' grimaces to more side-by-side stat comparisons to Jake than I could count all shoved unrelenting reminders that Friday's game was that game. Last year's division rivals and 5-0 schools clashed in game 6.
Not gonna lie; this time I listened to the football gossip. Logan being the only other player Jake mentioned implied he was good, but a smile tugged on my face. If it wasn't for a neverending 'oh shit' sensation dissolving my smile, I couldn't have stopped smiling. According to his online stats, Logan was stellar. What did 'stellar' look like in person? Why I hadn't noticed Logan in last year's conference finals game was the same reason why I hadn't talked to Jake about Mary's House yet: Jake himself.
If this was any other week, I would've talked to him about my nightmares. Reminders of the game's importance were flung in my face not daily but hourly. His coach kept them later at practices, and he was asleep when I arrived home. And with whatever was potentially between Logan and me – fine, whatever I hoped was potentially between us – I held a powderkeg of dynamite away from an all-consuming fire.
That was a terrible metaphor. As long as Jake could keep Logan in the football zone, we would be uneventfully fine. A pit in my stomach lingered the more Jake discussed game matchup, at the table with Dad, every conversation I tuned out at school and in passing. "You should be more grateful." His profile grinned, and he turned in the wrong direction. "Derrick appreciated the business. You should name a pizza after me."
"Derrick doesn't think past the bottom line on his spreadsheets." I rubbed at the dull throb in my forehead. Where were we going? I swear, if he thinks he's taking a parade lap around town, he's mistaken. "And if we had a Jake Harrison pizza on the menu, it would be ham and pineapple."
His grin dissolved into a scowl. "Why the fuck would I be ham and pineapple?"
"Because it's so polarizing," I deadpanned. "People either love it or hate it. There's no in-between."
"Fuck no, Ellie." He scowled. "I'm not ham and pineapple. Make it manly and meaty, like a supreme deluxe or the full works."
Manly and meaty. What the fuck did that mean? No, I didn't want to know. "You're full of something, all right." I cupped a hand over my eyes and groaned. "Don't give me any reason to call you a meathead. Harper does that enough for the both of us."
Jake drew in an exaggerated sniff, then wrinkled his nose. He waved his large right hand in front of his face, then pushed a button on his door. My window rolled down, and a wind tunnel from how fast he left Santa Cruz sucked me closer. "What the? Jake!" I clamped one palm on my greasy hat to keep it from blowing off. The wind slapped my cheeks, and my hideous work shirt flapped across my stomach. I wasn't lucky enough that it tore off my pepperoni nipples.
"You stink." The corner of his lip raised, and his dark hair fanned across his forehead. My ponytail whipped out the window like a brown flag of surrender. "Tonight, it's greasy pepperoni and green peppers."
"I don't have any control over it!" I yelled over the wind vortex cutting my right ear. Where the fuck was he going? "I'll shower once we're home, which is behind us."
"We're not going home. Not yet." He smiled. It wasn't a cocky smirk but a genuine smile that could only mean one thing. That same smile greeted me home with a creepy-ass hug of appreciation for getting him another chance with Chloe after the kissing booth. "What's the matter, Smelly Ellie?"
I pulled my mouth to one side at that nickname choice. "Smelly Ellie does not want to watch you drool over a girl. Smelly Ellie wants to climb into bed and cross off another horrible workday feeding cardboard pizzas to all of Santa Cruz."
"Calm your pepperoni tits. It won't take long."
I expelled a loud sigh and whined, "Why are we going to Chloe's? It's a school night."
"I want to ask her to Homecoming," he said in his normal voice. "It'll be quick, promise."
Rude, considering it was the middle of the school week, and yet, a solid display of effort. Why couldn't he ask at school? Maybe she didn't want the exposure. She didn't strike me as the type who appreciated a team serenade. I would've hidden in my locker if - Ugh, not another Logan ambiguity reminder! Had he asked me? Indirectly, he said he wanted to. Did they make regular suits his size? Oh gosh, I bet he would be handsome all dressed up. I shifted and crossed my legs.
"We're randomly showing up?" I frowned. My heart needed to stop cheering at being closer to another local Salinas resident.
"No." Jake brought me out of my thoughts. "I texted her while we were at your work. She's expecting me."
"Fine." Not like I had a choice. The highway lines blurred and whizzed by. "But no making out. Otherwise, I'm rubbing my work stink all over your car like an expired air freshener."
Twenty minutes later, Jake pulled up behind a red truck outside what I assumed was Chloe's house. I gasped at the tall, broad-shouldered, blonde-haired male on the front porch. Logan!? Here? What the hell was he doing here? I froze into a corpse. No matter how many times I blinked, he stood there. Chloe's timid expression through a door crack slapped the realization into me: He was apologizing.
My heart somersaulted into an Olympic routine. He was owning up to his mistakes. Not because I asked him to, but because it was the right thing to do. That took courage and humility. If he wasn't hot before, then he sure as fuck was now. An overwhelming thrill rushed through me as if pure joy filled my veins and pumped my heart past its capacity. Fuck, I wanted to hug him.
Those emotions lasted for one happily blissful split second until Jake rammed them down the back of my throat. "I don't fucking believe it. Fucking asshole, Hightower." He thrust open his door, and the car shook on the slam shut.
"Oh shit!" My fingers moved in slow-motion, fumbling with my seatbelt, which picked the wrong moment to lock up. "For - fuck's - sake!" I yanked and yanked, to no avail. It pulled tighter, choking me into the seat. The hairs on my neck raised, my forearms broke out in goosebumps, and my pulse raced.
Jake's long strides closed the gap to Logan. "No, no, no..." I murmured and unclipped my seatbelt. My feet moved through quicksand, or time slowed. Jake grabbed Logan and tossed him like a ragdoll onto Chloe's yard, where he rolled over. My breath burned in my lungs, and I forced my feet faster. Jake leaned over Logan, whose groan made my stomach clench. I choked back a scream at Jake's fists tight around his shirt and bristled when he drew back his right elbow.
Fuck you, short legs! A hot flash burst under my skin, pumping my heart into a gallop and giving me a jolt of energy. I broke into a run, but my extra effort was too late. The skin-splitting sound of Jake's fist striking Logan's face pierced my ears two steps short. The enraged look in Jake's eyes meant he had more, so I flung myself onto his arm before he delivered another blow.
"Jake, no!" A shrill shriek scratched its way up my throat. I yanked on his wrist, dug in my heels, and leveraged my one-hundred-and-six-pound frame. My efforts froze his arm in mid-air, but the view from this angle wasn't one I ever wanted to see. Logan's eyes glossed over, and a red, swollen mark raised the skin under his jaw.
"Jacob!" Chloe appeared on Jake's other side. Her long, pale fingers wrapped around his hand on Logan's shirt.
At her voice, Jake released Logan down to the ground. He hit the grass with a soft grunt. His jawline was red and swollen, but Logan's bright eyes met mine. The surprise in them melted, and his pupils dilated. My heart tumbled, then thumped faster, only to be constricted by the reality of my asshole brother. Don't say anything, Logan. Please don't say anything.
"That's right," Jake said in a low and threatening warning. Tension rippled the muscles in his shoulders and back into lumpy forms. A red flush spread across his skin, and his arm muscles were corded and taut. "Stay down, bitch-boy."
Logan brushed off his chest, pushed out from under Jake, and stood. I squeezed between them. Jake could punch over my head, but I faced him with all the wrath I could gather. "Jake." I glared my most venomous daggers at him, then sent Chloe a 'You do something' look across his chest. "Enough."
She nodded and took both of his hands in hers. My nostrils flared with sharp, deep breaths. Jake's enraged expression blurred the longer I panted like an angry bull.
"Jacob," Chloe murmured. Thankfully, she had more influence on him. His breathing calmed, the murderous look in his eyes softened, and his arms slacked. He let her steer him up the sidewalk to her house.
Trembles shook me as if my body was an earthquake epicenter. My mind screamed its favorite obscenities. I will punch this hot-headed idiot myself if I have to! Jake's outrageous anger tantrums were old and beyond tiring. They needed to stop. I turned to Logan's chest in my face and took a sharp breath. His body soap and shampoo washed over me like a calm breeze, soothing the tension knotting my shoulders. I gave one final look at my idiot brother, then directed my gaze to Logan's truck.
Neither of us spoke until we reached the curb behind Logan's truck. Step for step, his fingers twitched, and he walked with a stiff, upright posture. I wasn't much better. The urge to fling into him was too strong to suppress.
"You okay?" His whisper flowed warmly in my ear. Under the dark sky, his eyes filled with concern and ran over my appearance. I wasn't cold, but a shiver shuddered through me. My skin prickled with awareness like where he looked was a gentle caress.
Internally, I melted into a pile of molten pudding. Jake punched him, and he worried about me.
"Me?" My voice squeaked. The urge to touch him was so compelling, but I curled my fingers into my palms. Irritation crawled under my skin as I mapped his red, puffy jawline. A preferable option was putting my lips on his. Snap out of it, Ellie. You couldn't reach him if you stepped up on your toes. I hugged my elbows. "Are you okay?"
"Your charity event." His eyes were so warm and tender, along with his voice. That's what concerned him? I was done. Official Ellie goo status unlocked.
My gentle smile relaxed the tightness in my cheeks. "Yeah. It was exactly what I needed. Thanks for asking."
Through Logan's truck windows, Jake and Chloe sat low enough on her porch steps that he wouldn't have seen me. I pulled the corner of my mouth into my right cheek. Chloe's furrowed eyebrows and head shaking were anything but pleased.
"I'm glad. And you're okay going home with Mister Ticking Time Bomb here?" Logan's mouth tightened, which, didn't that hurt? And his gaze hardened. He had no reason to worry except at the possibility I got car sick because his concern filled my stomach with excited flutters. I would happily puke on Jake's feet for this.
"Me?" I smirked. "You should be more worried about the new asshole that I'm going to verbally rip him on the ride home."
Logan pushed an exhale out his nose, but warm sparkles returned home to his eyes. He returned my smirk with a sharp one of his own. "I didn't need that visual."
He leaned in closer, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The hard tip of his nose raised a trail of goosebumps where it grazed the side of my neck, racing my pulse with it. His warm breath fanned over my skin and stole mine. My eyes fluttered closed at the soft kiss he placed behind my ear, and I trembled from his low voice vibrating my skin with a low murmur, "I'm glad you're okay, but speaking of visuals... nice pepperonis."
He did not say that! He did. My cheeks flamed. Logan pulled back and winked. He walked around his truck, and his smile dissolved into a wistful look through the window. I gave him a small wave before I climbed into Jake's car, where I still smelled like the inside of a days-old leftover pizza box.
Tumultuous, murderous thoughts churned in my head while I waited for Jake. The specific details clashed with each other but involved pretty much every swear word I knew of and possibly a few newly invented ones. Tiny bubbles of anger that Logan's sweet gesture had doused now simmered like an unattended pot on a stove. My face tingled hot and swollen, with pressure to burst through my skin.
Jake's door opened, and the car shifted under his weight. The slam's echo vibrated between us. We alternated soft pants while attempting to calm down, filling the airspace until it became thick, humid, and insufferable. I glared at his profile. "Don't," he mumbled.
"Oh, no. You can't-" His expression stole my words. His eyes cast to where his hands gripped the wheel, his shoulders rounded, and his chin dipped to his chest. He looked sad. Dejected. Defeated. Despite knowing full well that Jake had blown his chance, I asked, "Did she say yes?"
"No." His eyes were heavy with sadness as he added, "Didn't get to ask."
He deserved her rejection. He was lucky I didn't make his ass walk home. I heaved a loud, frustrated sigh, then opened my mouth to unleash a well-rehearsed 'I told you so' rant when he held a hand in my face. "I saw him with her," he said to the steering wheel more than me. "And saw red."
"No excuse." Tension tugged the corners of my mouth, and I clenched my teeth until an ache appeared in my jaw. "You can't go around punching innocent apologizing people, for fuck's sake."
"Ellie." He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and pronounced cords on the back of his hands. "If you knew what I knew about him, you'd be sick."
Why couldn't he give me a chance to make my own decisions? "Try me." My voice came out as dry as burnt toast. "And for another fuck's sake, close my window. You deserve to be trapped inside with my work stink."
"He's a total player," Jake said, but at least he rolled up my window.
An internal pressure swelled in my ears. "And you're not?" A sarcastic snort escaped my lips. I hadn't meant for the words to slip out, but I was too tired. My limbs felt filled with cement, and my bones ached. Mentally drained, I was too tired of defending him, stopping him, and protecting him from his anger.
"Not like him." Out of the corner of my peripheral vision, Jake shook his head. "After Chloe told me why he was there, I'm thankful you're too smart to get involved with him."
Hot ears seared the dry sting in my eyes, but I didn't want Jake to see them. "I don't want to talk about it." I wasn't blind or stupid. Jake had a temper and charged into situations fist-first, stupid assumptions second, and rational thoughts third, but I hadn't personally witnessed his fist smashing into someone's face. That being Logan, who was here to apologize, burned in my chest like heartburn.
What a clusterfuck.