Page 5

Chapter

Five

Friday night, Maddie and Crystal strutted up the pathway to our townhouse, their pleather mini-skirts barely covering their shivering asses. I swung open the door.

"You skanks ready to get wild?" Maddie squealed, flashing me a cheeky grin under her Catwoman mask.

Crystal twirled, showing off her tiny police uniform, nightstick and all. "I'm ready to arrest some naughty boys!"

I couldn't help but laugh. My devil costume felt downright demure in comparison—tight red dress, the fishnets I found at The Bay, my silly horns headband. But hey, if you can't dress like a total slut from the underworld on Halloween, when can you?

Thank the Great Pumpkin that Rob decided to sit this one out. Or at least that he wasn’t riding with us. I didn’t know or care whether he’d be there later, I was just counting my blessings that I hadn’t crossed paths with him much the day before. After our little chat, the last thing I needed was refereeing him and Logan all night.

Speaking of my golden retriever boyfriend, Logan bounded down the hall in his firefighter getup, all glistening bare chest and booty shorts. "Damn ladies, looking hot! Let's show those lacrosse losers how the Outlaws party!"

Okay, so maybe dressing slutty wasn’t just for the women. I strode forward, threading my arms under his fireman’s jacket. “Where did you get this? It looks real.”

“Nah, the real ones weigh a ton.” He lowered his head and kissed me. “I can keep this one, though. If you like it.”

I grinned. “At least keep it for the weekend.”

We piled into Logan's pickup truck, the leather seats freezing against all of our bare thighs. As he roared away from the curb, Logan hollered out the details for Crystal and Maddie.

"Kay, so here's the deal. My boy Brayden has this sick house off-campus he shares with like five other dudes. Hockey, lax, rugby—they're all my bros." He glanced over at me with a goofy smile. "Closest thing we've got to frats up here in Canuckistan."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. Leave it to Logan to get me out of my mopey mood. With no rehearsals over the weekend, maybe I could let loose and have some fun for once.

Crystal gaped as we pulled up to the sprawling house already throbbing with music. The old brick mansion wasn’t a surprise to me, but the cobwebs and strobe lights were.

Maddie clicked her tongue. “Hopefully nobody on this block has epilepsy.”

Logan parked and turned in his seat. “Is that a thing?”

Crystal, Maddie, and I burst out laughing. “Yes it’s a thing!” I shoved his shoulder and we piled out of the truck. Time to shake off my good girl persona and raise a little hell. I had the horns for moral support.

We tottered on our heels up the leaf-strewn walk. I tugged down the hem of my dress, suddenly self-conscious. I felt fine with Logan and my friends, but maybe I’d gone a little too skimpy for being seen in public.

“Staaahp.” Maddie slapped my hand. “You look hot.”

“I think my underwear is showing,” I muttered.

She winked. “Good. I hope you wore red.”

I laughed, and as we stepped inside the packed house, my nerves evaporated. It was warm, and the air felt almost sticky. Bodies moved and gyrated in the purple and orange lighting, their plastic cups held up while they danced. Rubber masks and feather boas flashed under the strobing lights. The whole place buzzed with an electric energy that sparked something reckless in me.

I wanted Logan to see me tonight. To know what he’d be missing in Winnipeg and Europe. I wanted him to want me so bad, he thought about staying.

"Yo, Kemp!" A burly guy in a gorilla suit tackled Logan into a bear hug.

"Sick turnout, bud!" Logan high-fived his way through the crowd, calling out to his endless roster of teammates and friends. I loved watching him in his element. He positively glowed.

"Sharla, hey!" A girl dressed as Cleopatra pulled me into a drunken embrace. "Damn, girl!" She pulled back to look me up and down, then licked her finger and tapped it to my shoulder, pretending it sizzled.

I laughed, buoyed by the compliment. Drinks appeared in my hand as if by magic—shots of glittering green "witch's brew", cups of violently purple jungle juice. The sickly-sweet burn wiped away the last traces of my responsibility meter.

We laughed and chatted. Then I followed Maddie and Crystal as they shimmied their way into the main living room, where all the furniture was pushed against the wall. All three of us were handed glow sticks.

An arm snaked around my waist and I turned to see Logan's face, flushed and smiling. "Having fun, babe?"

Alcohol made Logan a little melancoly, but it made me giddy. Love swelled in my chest, and I nearly pinched his cheeks before pulling him in for a kiss. I tangled my fingers in his hair, arching against him.

I wanted him to look at me differently tonight. Like a girl he’d find in the stands and want to wait for after his shower. Like someone he couldn’t wait to pull into a side room.

Logan responded eagerly, his big hands roaming my satin curves, landing on bare thigh. We made out sloppily against the wall, hot and hungry. The room spun, and nothing existed but his lips, his touch, pounding bass and flashing lights.

Until a splash of dark hair made my gaze snag.

I surfaced for air to see Rob skulking into the party, hands shoved in the pockets of his half-assed vampire costume. Our eyes met and I felt a sickening swoop in my stomach.

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and then he was gone. He vanished into the hall. Suddenly everything felt too bright, too loud, too close. I sagged against the wall, the heat oozing out of me like a popped balloon.

“Hey, you okay?” Logan wet his lips, his cheek still against mine.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think I just need some air.”

“Do you want me to?—”

“No. No, you stay here. I’ll be right back.” I kissed his cheek, then slipped out of his arms and headed for the back door.

The chill night air was a slap to my flushed cheeks as I stumbled onto the back porch. I gripped the railing, knuckles white, and sucked in lungfuls of crisp oxygen. Tears filled my eyes from the cold, blurring the inky sky and shadowy trees.

I stood there until I started to shiver. Logan didn’t come after me. I’d told him to stay, but when I turned and saw him laughing with a few of his teammates, it stung. It was unfair to expect him to read my mind, but how much translation did it really take? He was leaving. Of course I wasn’t okay.

I stiffened when Rob turned to fill his cup, and he looked up. His eyes dropped to my bare shoulders, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth. I was about to flip him off when Crystal cut off my view of him.

“There you are.” She opened the glass door and stepped out onto the patio with me. “Shit, how long have you been out here?”

I rubbed my arms. “Too long, I think?”

"Uh-huh." Her eyes searched mine, a divot forming between her brows. "Did something happen? With Logan, or?—"

“No, I’m just—I don’t know. Thinking about Tuesday, I guess.”

Crystal grinned, walking closer and throwing her arm over my shoulder. “Parties aren’t for thinking, silly.”

I scoffed. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

“No, I do know you, which is why I’m here to drag you back in there. You need to make at least three more bad decisions before we can go home.”

I laughed, allowing her to pull me toward the doors.

Logan turned, his eyes lighting up. "Hell yeah. That's my girl!" He took a swig of jungle juice, then pushed through his teammates and planted a kiss on my mouth, prying my lips open and sharing his drink.

“Logan!” I pulled back, wiping my lips with the back of my hand as it dribbled down my chin.

He threw his head back and howled.

The rest of the night passed in a strobe-lit blur of shots and shimmies, culminating in a giggling, stumbling trek back to Logan's truck. Maddie was our designated driver, and before we even pulled away from the curb, Logan’s hand was already up my skirt. Which didn’t take much effort considering it was only ten centimeters long.

When we got back, I hugged my friends, then we trudged inside and tumbled into bed in a tangle of limbs and boozy breath. For all his handsiness on the drive, Logan was out within seconds, his fireman coat in a crumpled heap on the floor. I forced myself out of bed to brush my teeth, then stripped off my costume and sank into oblivion before my head hit the pillow.

Morning arrived like a sledgehammer to the skull. I groaned and burrowed deeper under the covers, but the mattress lurched as Logan bounded out of bed with disgusting verve.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," he trilled, ripping open the curtains. Eye-searing sunlight knifed into my retinas and I whimpered.

"I will murder you," I croaked. "With a spatula. Slowly."

Logan just laughed, tugging the duvet off my limp carcass. "You'll change your tune once you taste my world-famous breakfast. Up and at 'em, sunshine!"

I hauled myself vertical with a pitiful moan, head throbbing like a rotten melon. Logan was already whistling his way into the kitchen. How was he so damn chipper? And since when did he make breakfast?

I pressed my palm to my forehead and threw on sweats and a hoodie, then washed my face and moisturized. My clock said ten. At least I’d gotten a decent amount of sleep.

By the time I slouched into the kitchen, Logan was sitting with a plate full of . . . blueberry pancakes?

"Umm, did you swap souls with someone last night?” It was Hallows Eve. I’d heard of stranger things.

Logan flashed a mysterious smile. "It's my secret special-occasion recipe. Blueberry sour cream pancakes with lemon zest. Prepare to have your mind blown."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You’ve literally never mentioned special-occasion pancakes. Or recipes in general." And hadn’t he only been out there for fifteen minutes?

“Because I was saving it for a special occasion.” He pulled out a stool and patted it. I walked over and sat like a good girl even though the scene in front of me wasn’t computing. Rob used the kitchen regularly, but Logan? I’d only seen him use the microwave. One time he’d heated up leftover wings in the oven because Rob told him to.

Logan kissed my cheek. "I've been saving this for a day when you really need some comfort food. Figured a killer hangover qualified." He grabbed a plate and fork from the counter and put two pancakes on it, then passed it to me.

Damn him for being so thoughtful. My eyes prickled traitorously as I drowned my pancakes in syrup. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Nah, babe. You're too good for me.” He winked, digging into his own short stack.

We devoured brunch, nursing cups of strong black coffee and making dumb jokes. For a few cozy hours, I could almost pretend the world outside didn't exist. No nagging worries about the future, no shadow of Rob lurking at the edges. Just me and my blue-eyed boy in our bubble of maple syrup and morning light.

If I could’ve frozen that moment, bottled it and kept it on my shelf, I would’ve. Because the rest of the weekend passed by in a blur. We packed, napped, and made love when Rob finally left for the day. Even though we were in our own room, I felt weird knowing he was right outside the door. Yet another reason I didn’t want a roommate, especially not one of Logan’s friends.

Logan took me out for our fancy dinner, and gave me a thin silver bracelet. It was gorgeous. And something I’d feel guilty about not wearing. I couldn’t have anything on my hands or wrists while I played. Some people in orchestra could, but it annoyed the hell out of me to have anything touching my skin.

I wore it to campus on Monday, took it off and kept it in my pocket, then put it back on for the walk home.

And then it was Tuesday.

I tried to give Logan a present to open in Europe on Christmas, but he wanted to wait until he got back. We agreed to exchange gifts as soon as he arrived home. Something to look forward to.

Logan loaded his bags into his truck, and I got in to drop him off at the airport. The drive was quiet. Our hands interlaced over the console, and the bracelet twisted on my wrist. Logan's thumb brushed soothing circles on my skin, but it did little to loosen the knot in my chest.

I blinked hard, determined not to let the tears fall. At least not yet. He didn’t need to feel guilty when he was on his way to living the dream he’d been working toward for almost his entire life.

"Hey." Logan's voice was soft as he pulled into the departures lane. "It's only a few weeks. I'll be back before you know it, causing a ruckus and leaving my socks all over the floor."

I choked out a watery laugh.

He pulled to a stop in the unloading zone. "I'll phone you every day. So much you'll get sick of me." He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He unbuckled, leaving the key in the ignition. I got out and waited with my hands shoved in the pockets of my coat while he unloaded his bags.

One more kiss, one more bone-crushing hug.

“I love you, babe,” he whispered.

“Love you, too.”

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the automatic doors.

The tears came in earnest as I slid back into the driver's seat, the truck suddenly far too big without Logan in it. I felt like a middle schooler taking my dad’s car out for a joy ride. Sobs shook my shoulders, blurring the road as I wound my way back to campus. Back to a house that only felt like home because of who I usually shared it with. Not with who was waiting for me.

Rob.

My stomach twisted at the thought of facing him alone, without Logan as a buffer. Anger lanced through me, hot and bright. It wasn't fair. I shouldn't have to tiptoe around my own home, dreading every interaction with my boyfriend's shitty friend. I shouldn't have to spend Christmas missing Logan like a phantom limb.

I dragged a sleeve across my face, taking vicious pleasure in smearing my mascara. I parked Logan's truck haphazardly, not caring if I took up two spots. Grabbing my purse and keys, I stormed into the townhouse, a whirlwind of smudged eyeliner and snot.

I let the door slam behind me, locked it, then made a beeline for my washroom, desperate for a moment of privacy to collect myself. To splash some cold water on my face and remind myself that I wasn’t just Logan’s girlfriend. I had other priorities, other commitments. I had my own dreams, and they weren’t all wrapped up in a guy.

I dropped Logan’s keys on the dresser and flung open the washroom door, ready to collapse on the floor and let myself come disgustingly undone. But instead, I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

Rob stood in front of the toilet, his fly halfway zipped.