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Melody points her manicured finger between Logan and me. “Is there something going on between the two of you?”
“No,” Logan growls. He turns and walks away but not before bumping his shoulder against mine as he passes.
17
Danika
The doorbell sings its melodic tune and my stomach twists. When Dad asked who I was going to the homecoming dance with tonight, I told him the truth. Gunner asked me in the most epic of ways, and even though I don’t feel much for him I couldn’t say no. Dad, of course, still wants to pull the whole protective father act. If he had friends and guns, they'd be here ready to intimidate. But he has no friends, I have no boyfriend, and when it comes down to it, we both know there’s nothing to worry about tonight.
All of this considered, the thought of Gunner waiting outside my door with a corsage in his hand still sends my pulse racing. My last boyfriend refused to go to school functions. It was his pathetic attempt to rebel against his parents. All the other dances, I went stag with a group of friends. While my date might not be my first choice, I’m still excited to experience tonight.
I rush down the stairs, my royal blue Converse sneakers paired to match my dress. I can’t walk in heels to save my life, let alone dance in them. Unlike Sarah, and probably every other girl tonight, I want to enjoy myself. Not complain about my feet and end up barefoot.
Dad, of course, is waiting like a snake in the grass to attack and beats me to the door. His broad frame fills the doorway, blocking any chance for me to see if Gunner has gone for the full blazer and tie look, or a simple button down.
“You must be Gunner,” Dad’s voice is deeper than normal. I roll my eyes at his attempt to intimidate. Dad may be a large man, but he’s a big softie.
“No, sir.”
My heart pounds in my chest, making me lightheaded as I try to figure out what Logan is doing at my door. I stand on my tip-toes, barely catching a glimpse of his dark hair over my dad’s shoulder. Dad’s arm extends as he shakes Logan’s hand, giving him what I’m sure is a death grip to establish dominance. Men.
“I’m your neighbor, Logan,” he says, hesitantly. They exchange a few hushed whispers then Logan asks, “Is Danika still here? I have something for her.”
With a small sigh, my dad steps to the side and sits on the couch. Logan comes inside and looks around. There’s no judgement in his eyes, but that doesn’t make me any less insecure about where we live. Our home is much simpler than most in the neighborhood, which makes sense if this was meant to be a guest house.
Where Logan’s house is a modern two-story U-shaped design built around an enclosed pool, mine is one big open square. The living-room dining-room combo and kitchen are what you see as soon as you walk through the door. We also have a laundry room and a bathroom down here with two bathrooms and two bedrooms upstairs. For the average person, this is a nice place. When you compare it to the others in the neighborhood, we’re practically living in a shack.
Logan takes me in from head to toe, gaze stopping on my shoes for a beat, a small smile tugging at his lips, before finding my face again. “That doesn’t look like anything our mall sells.”
I twist my hips, letting the drop-waist skirt of my thigh-length A-line dress sway. Of all the dresses in my closet, this one is my favorite. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You know, you’re supposed to be going to a dance tonight and not a funeral. Right?”
Logan smirks and shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. We stand there in silence, the tension in the air building between us. Logan looks good, really good, in his black slacks and matching long-sleeved button-down shirt. I reach out and touch his tie, my fingers slipping down the smooth satin. “We match.”
“I… uh... got you something,” he stammers, pulling a small white box from his pocket.
I look at Logan, my brows pushed together in confusion, as he lifts the lid, exposing the gold necklace with a teardrop gem I was looking at yesterday. “How did you…”
“I saw you put it back on the display before Melody became a raging cunt,” he says, handing me the box.
The necklace is even prettier than I remember. The thin gold chain, which I’m hoping is fake, is eighteen-inches long with a teardrop sapphire at the end. Considering how expensive everything in that store was, I’m hoping the stone is overpriced costume jewelry and not a real gemstone. That would be too much.
“But when?” I feel like an idiot and should probably say thank you, but no one’s ever given me jewelry before. Everything I own is the five-dollar costume stuff.
“After you left with Sarah.” He shrugs again. “It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal? Logan, this is huge! Thank you.” I throw my arms around his neck. Logan drives me crazy and I hate him half the time, but I love that even though we aren’t what we used to be, he’s trying. In his weird Logany way, he’s trying.
Logan’s arms wrap around my waist, squeezing me tight against him. I look up into his brown eyes, noticing for the first time the green ring around his irises and the gold bi
ts in them that look like lightning.
All the fluttery, jittery, flippy emotions my head has been fighting the past few weeks win and I have the sudden urge to kiss him again. I know it’s wrong. Gunner is on his way, in the limo he refused to let me chip in on, and here I am pining over Logan. I’m going to hell.
I slide my hand up Logan’s neck, brushing my thumb against his cheek. I swipe my tongue against my lips, hoping he’ll get the hint. After all, this is Logan Harris, notorious womanizer. If he can’t read my neon sign, I’m going to suggest he start wearing his glasses again.
Just as I see a glimmer of understanding cross Logan’s face, my dad clears his throat reminding me that we aren’t alone. Hiding my disappointment, I tuck my hair behind my ears and take a step back. “Can you help me put it on?”
Logan silently nods. I hand him the box and turn. The pillows of his fingers drift across my neck as he sweeps my hair to one side. I shiver and grab my long locks, twisting the curls simply to force my mind to focus on something besides the way I react to him.
