Page 90 of What Matters Most

A light drizzle had begun to fall. Terrific. A fitting end to a rotten day.

The first block was a killer. She couldn’t be that much out of shape, could she? She rode her bike a lot. And wasn’t her running speed the best on the team?

The second block, Abby forced her mind off how out of breath she was becoming. Logan’s buying her perfume made her chuckle. Predictable. Reliable. Confident. They were all words that adequately described Logan. But so were unreasonable and stubborn—traits she’d seen only recently.

The drizzle was followed by a cloudburst and Abby’s hair and clothes were plastered against her in the swirling wind and rain. She shouldn’t be laughing. But she did anyway as she raced back to her apartment. It was either laugh or cry, and laughing seemed to come naturally. Laughing made her feel better than succumbing to tears.

By the time Abby returned to her building, she was drenched and shivering. With her chin tucked under and her arms folded around her middle, she fought off the chill and hurried across the parking lot. She was almost at her building door when she realized she didn’t have the keys. She’d locked herself out!

What more could go wrong? she wondered. Maybe the superintendent was home. She stepped out in the rain to see if the lights were on in his apartment, which was situated above hers. His place was dark. Of course. That was how everything else was going.

Cupping one hand over her mouth while the other held her stomach, Abby’s laughter was mixed with sobs of anger and frustration.

“Abby?” Logan’s urgent voice came from the street. Hurriedly he crossed it, took one look at her, and hauled her into his arms.

“Logan, I’ll get you wet,” she cried, trying to push herself free.

“What happened? Are you all right?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” she murmured, sniffling miserably. “What are you doing here?”

Logan brought her out of the rain and stood with his back blocking the wind, trying to protect her from the storm. “Let’s get you inside and dry and I’ll explain.”

“Why?” she asked, and wrung the water from the hem of her sweatshirt. “So you can hurl insults at me?”

“No,” he said vehemently. “I’ve been half-crazy wondering where you were.”

“I’ll just bet,” Abby taunted unmercifully. “I’m surprised you didn’t assume I was with Tate.”

A grimace tightened his jaw, and Abby knew she’d hit her mark. “Are you going to be difficult or are we going inside to talk this out reasonably?”

“We can’t go inside,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because I forgot my keys.”

“Oh Abby,” Logan groaned.

“And the manager’s gone. Do you have any more bright ideas?”

“Did you leave the bedroom window open?” he asked with marked patience.

“Yes, just a little, but—” A glimmer of an idea sparked, and she smiled boldly at Logan. “Follow me.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this?” he asked under his breath as Abby pulled him by the hand around to the back of the building.

“Here,” she said, bending her knee and lacing her fingers together to give him a boost upward to the slightly open window.

“You don’t expect to launch me through there, do you?” Logan glared at her. “I won’t fit.”

Rivulets of rain trickled down the back of Abby’s neck. “Well, I can’t do it. You know I’m afraid of heights.”

“Abby, the window’s barely five feet off the ground.”

“I’m standing here, drenched and miserable,” she said, waving her hands wildly. “On my birthday, no less,” she added sarcastically, “and you don’t want to rescue me.”

“I’m not in the hero business,” Logan muttered as he hunched his shoulders to ward off the rain. “Try Tate.”

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