Page 87 of Fraternizing with the Enemy
I shrugged on my Brentwood High varsity jacket the second I got out into the cold air, drawing in a shaking breath.That’s right, Madison, the jacket seemed tomurmur, enveloping me.You never should’ve fought it in the first place. You should’ve just accepted it.
I walked through the darkness toward my house, the structure blurring as tears pooled in my eyes then spilled over.My first heartbreak. And the worst part was that I couldn’t even go to my best friend about it. She could never know.
And then, in the thick of my thoughts, I heard a car door creak open. I twisted around just in time to see Logan unfold from the driver’s seat, pushing unsteadily to his feet. He stood there for a long beat, the night wrapping around him, his expression caught somewhere between lost and longing. He almost seemed to sway in place, as if a debate were laid out before him.
Logan slammed the door shut. “I’m a mess,” he told me. His voice was rough and frayed at the edges, as if he was barely holding himself together. “A mess, Madison. I’ve done things I regret—crappy things that feel like they could swallow me whole.” He ran a hand through his hair as the next all rushed from him. “It’s just my dad and me at home. My parents used to fight all the time, so she just left. I’m a C student. I haven’t evenstartedthinking about college, despite the fact that I’m supposed to have my entire future planned out. School, football practice, theater practice, extra shifts at Expresso’s—but I can handle it. I can handle it.”
His long strides carried him closer until he stopped just a foot away. His eyes locked on mine, intense and raw. “The one thing I can’t handle,” he said, voice low, trembling, “is the thought of losing you.”
My chest tightened at the rush of his honest words, and my fingers itched to reach out, to closethe space between us. The broken tone of his voice settled over me like a shiver I couldn’t shake.
“I wasn’t ever supposed to have this much fun with you.” Logan’s chest rose sharply as he went on. “I was supposed to run into you at Brentwood’s open house, send a few flirty messages here and there, and that was supposed to be it. I was supposed to walk away, and that was supposed to be it.” The pain that’d been resting on his face in the car fractured in his eyes now. “But I can’t walk away, Madison. Even if I should.”
I hooked my hand lightly on his wrist, feeling his pulse slam underneath his skin. “I don’t want you to walk away.”
Logan reached up and coasted his thumb along the curve of my cheek, swiping away a tear track while swallowing hard. “I told myself I was going to be more careful with your heart.”
“You should,” I murmured. “Because it’s yours.”
Logan’s breath stuttered out, and he glanced down at where I was holding him, as if my touch branded him. “What if…” The words cracked in his throat, both a warning and a plea. “What if I don’t deserve it?”
It hit me then that Logan Castle had a secret of his own, the way the Top Tier had secrets. My own shameful secret was Maisie Matthews, and it weighed on me down to the core of the earth. Judging by the stiffness in his shoulders and the ache in his eyes, Logan had one, too. It was as if a thin veil had always separated us, showing only fragments of him, and now it had shifted just enough to reveal the edges of the real Logan. Not all of him, but enough to see that he hadn’t doubtedme.
He doubted himself.
“Youdodeserve it.” I leaned forward, arms slidingaround him, burrowing into his chest. Just as I’d felt his pulse in his wrist, I pressed my ear to his chest and heard it thundering frantically, tripping over its beats. “I’m deciding right now. I’ll be your safe place.”
Logan’s arms stayed stiff at first. His voice was low, almost a whisper, repeating what he’d said before. “I don’t deserve it.”
“And I don’t deserve you being mine,” I replied, pressing my palms flat against his back. He was so firm and taut beneath my touch, but my chest was too aching to pay any real attention to his body. “But you are. And I’m not letting you go yet.”
After what felt like forever, Logan lifted his arms to encircle my frame, securing me to him just as earnestly. His chin came down to brush against my temple, and I could hear his shaky inhale in my ear. “I miss everything being easy,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “That’s what I miss most about being younger.”
I rubbed my hand down his back, my fingertips brushing over the bumpy stitching in his varsity jacket, pressing into him hard. I wanted him to feel each of my fingertips, to feel the soothing touch long after we parted ways for the night. “Me too,” I murmured, a soft, relieved smile touching my lips. The sound of his heartbeat had been a satisfying enough answer, but this was him taking his own step toward me. Agreeing. Holding on. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
Logan tightened his grip around me, drawing me as close to him as he possibly could. It was as if he were squeezing my heart with his arms. He said nothing in return, but his lips brushed my temple, as if a whisper of their own.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood out there, illuminatedby the glow of his headlights. My mom could’ve looked out the window at any moment—heck, or she could’ve walked out onto the porch—but I stood there, memorizing the sound of Logan’s heartbeat without a care in the world.
The air coasted across the two of us, but there wasn’t a trace of the chill. How could there be, in that moment? For me, it felt like we’d crossed one of our first big bridges together, only bringing us closer.
Istood in front of an open locker with a smile on my face Thursday morning, staring down at my phone. I’d texted Logan before leaving for school, and when I pulled my phone from my bag, I found his response waiting for me.
good morning! whatcha doing today?
Logan
good morning, you. I work for two hours after practice. but you should come visit :)
He normally didn’t reply to my morning texts until lunch—because, he confessed, he normally was running so late that he barely had time to stop his alarm—and even though I really should’ve been unpacking my backpack and pulling out my math book, I couldn’t bring myself to lock my phone.
should I??
Logan
I might have a free mocha with yourname on it
you keep giving me free drinks. you’re going to get fired. >;( I can’t be the start of your life of delinquency.
