Page 83 of We Were Something
His words wash over me, their healing powers crawling over the war wounds left earlier this morning and attempting to patch them up.
“Well then, I’dloveto go out to dinner this week.”
He tugs me forward and plants a kiss on my lips, his tongue coming out just briefly to flirt with mine.
“Great. I’ll call you later today,” he tells me.
“Can’t wait.”
Logan meets me at the back of the SUV and helps unload my duffle, which I loop over my shoulder before popping up on my toes to press my lips against his one more time. I give him a quick wave when I reach the door and watch as he drives off, then head inside, leaning back on the front door once I’ve closed it behind me, a smile stretching across my face.
Maybe he’s falling for me just as much as I’m falling for him.
I can’t be sure, because it’s never happened before.
But Ithinkthis is what it is. What it feels like.
As I wander up to my bedroom, drop my bag on the ground, and flop back on my bed, I can’t help but wonder…if this is what falling feels like, how doesanyonerecover if nobody is there to catch them?
I stare at the clock as the time changes to eight PM, and then I press call, my phone going straight to voicemail. Again.
“You’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. Logan Becker. I’m unable to answer your call. Please leave a message with your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as my schedule allows.”
I hear the beep and I pause, wondering if I should actually leave a voicemail this time.
But ultimately, I hang up, deciding my normal M.O. of leaving a very long, very dramatic message would not help anybody.
“There has to be a reasonable explanation,” Lennon tells me when I call her at 8:30. “I mean, he doesn’t seem like the type to take you on some fabulous overnight getaway, fuck you so good you can’t remember your name, ask you on a date, promise to call, and then block your number.”
“No, I don’t think he’s that guy,” I agree.
“Yeah, that’s more like the kind of guys Rebecka dates.”
I snort out a laugh, and Lennon giggles into my ear.
But then we’re silent for a long moment as I replay everything that happened between us, my usual confidence in myself feeling like it’s on wobbly legs.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lennon says again. “I promise.”
I believe her. I do. Even as the clock ticks past nine and then ten, still with no call.
Eventually, I decide to try the hospital, thinking maybe he had some intense surgery come out of nowhere.
“I’m looking for Dr. Logan Becker,” I tell the woman who answers the phone. “I’m his girlfriend,” I add, hoping claiming the title doesn’t bite me in the ass later, “and I’m just trying to figure out where he is. Is he in surgery?”
“I can’t give out information about any doctors that work here, but if you’d like I can forward you to his assistant’s phone. You might have better results that way.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
I hear a few clicks, and then a second later I’m listening to Carrie give her information and directions for leaving a message.
“Hi Carrie, this is Paige Andrews. Logan’s…friend,” I say, rolling my eyes at the way I chicken out. “Logan was supposed to call me earlier today and I haven’t heard from him and his phone keeps going straight to voicemail. I promise I’m not trying to be needy or anything, but I just…I’m trying to see if he’s in surgery, or if I need to be concerned that he’s missing. Can you just let me know if he had some last-minute emergency surgery? I’m starting to get worried. Thanks, and I’m sorry to bug you on a Sunday night. Okay, bye.”
I hang up the phone feeling a little bit like an idiot but also hoping Carrie will give me a call at some point. I figure if I get an answer, it was worth the awkwardness.
No matter what happens from here on out, the day is definitely over, so I head to the bathroom, flicking on the water in the shower and crossing to my mirror to begin taking off my makeup.
Only a few minutes later, I hear my phone ringing, and I drop my makeup remover and dash back into my bedroom, grabbing my cell and answering it in a rush.
