Page 49 of Fall From Grace
“Not everyone feels the need to swear.”
The man actually groans like I said the most disgusting thing ever. “Fucking goody two-shoes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Uh, yeah there is. One: it’s boring. Two: being good won’t get you far in life. Three—”
I can’t let him continue that line of thinking. “So you think everyone who’s made something of themselves is a jerk? You think none of them are good?”
Logan laughs. “In a world like this, you can’t make something out of nothing. To make a name for yourself, to make money and get your name out there—you have to play the game, and you don’t play the game by being nice. In real life, you don’t win any prizes for being fucking nice. You get walked on, taken advantage of, and look down on as naive and stupid.”
Wow. That seems a little harsh, but what do I know?
“You can only get far by taking what you want. By pushing everyone else down. There are winners and losers in life, and the ones running the show will do anything they can to make sure they keep winning.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, I want to give him a list of rich people who have good hearts, but I can’t think of any off the top of my head. Still, I won’t admit he’s right. “You’re very cynical, you know that?”
“I’d rather be cynical than stupid.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being nice.” We stop at an intersection, waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green and give us the right to cross.
Logan stands beside me, and he doesn’t so much as look at me when he asks, “And how far did being nice get you? Maybe if you were a little less nice, your ex wouldn’t have cheated.” He throws that sentence at me like a knife, and it digs into my skin like it’s newly-sharpened steel.
If I wasn’t already nervous beyond all belief about my plan for the night, that actually would have hurt. It was a very mean thing to say. “Or maybe he would have cheated no matter what I was like, because a cheater’s a cheater.” I bite my bottom lip. “Maybe, even if I would have given everything to him, hewould’ve still ran around behind my back with my best friend because they’re both terrible people.”
The crosswalk light turns green, allowing us a safe path as we cross the four-lane street. “Maybe,” he admits. “Cheating on you with your best friend. That is real shitty. Even I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Would you cheat?” I don’t know why I ask. It doesn’t matter. We aren’t in a relationship. I don’t want to be in a relationship with this guy.
“Cheating requires being in a relationship.”
Besides the fact that he didn’t answer the question… this guy has never been in a relationship? For some reason, that blows my mind. I bet someone like him has had ample opportunity to date. He’s probably the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen, with a swagger to match. A lot of girls go crazy for a guy like that.
“So,” I say slowly as we continue toward Main Street, where our destination is, “you’ve never been in a relationship?”
“No. And you’ve only been in one, and with the way it ended, I don’t know if you can even count it.” Lashing out at me. Seems to be his typical response. He really does make it impossible to get to know him, but maybe that’s the point.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer the original question,” I say, tossing him a glance. “Would you cheat? Be honest. You’re the kind of guy who’s never been in a relationship, so you’re used to hooking up with anyone you want. Could you ever give that up?”
A bitter laugh escapes his chest, and his feet slow to a halt. I have to stop and turn back to face him, finding he’s staring squarely at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “You know, it always used to be easy for me. Easy to talk to girls, easy to get exactly what I wanted from them.” His jaw grinds as his expression morphs into irritation… at me?
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He takes a single step toward me, and even though I can step back and put more space between us, I feel trapped under his emerald gaze. Those eyes… they’re so vibrant. I try to imagine them with black body paint around them, with a mask on his face. I can picture it, but maybe it’s all in my head.
“Because,” he whispers, “believe it or not, I’ve been having a real shitty go at things lately. I can’t go out and get plastered. Can’t fucking hook up with nameless girls. I literally can’t do a single goddamned thing without you either appearing out of thin fucking air or you just… refusing to get out of my head. Ever since we met in that club, you fucked me up, and I don’t understand why.”
I open my mouth to argue with him out of habit, but I can’t. No words come out of me as everything he said sinks in.
I messed him up. Some girls might feel thrilled at the prospect of messing with a guy like this, but me? I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know how Ishouldfeel. All in all, I’m thoroughly confused, and if I’m being honest… it’s kind of a two-way street. I’ve caught myself thinking about this jerk way more often than I should, and that’s before the whole he-might-be-a-famous-rockstar thing.
Logan shakes his head and averts his gaze from me as his lips tug into a handsome frown. “You know, maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“No,” I quickly say. “There’s something I want to do with you tonight. Please? After we do it, you can go home and hate me all you want.”
The breath he lets out right then is legendary, and I can see his willpower waning. “I never said I hated you,” he mutters, and then he sighs again. “What are we even doing?”
I smile at him, and when I smile at him his frown only grows. I don’t tell him, but I do resume my pace. We’re almost there, anyway, and when we get there, he’ll know—there’s only onething you do at the place we’re going. Besides drink, I mean, and I will not be partaking in that. Even if I was twenty-one, I don’t see the point.
