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He shook his head no. "I'm sad because you won't go out with my uncle Logan."
I didn't ask him to throw the uncle part in, but I was impressed.
She stood to full height and looked down at him, "I'm sorry, I can't go out with your uncle Logan."
"Okay then," he stated, shrugging his shoulders dramatically. He didn't move from her side though, just stood there. She went back to what she was doing, and he still didn't move.
She got called over to a table and as she left, Lachlan followed, gripping onto her skirt. She turned quickly when she felt him tugging at her. She looked down at him, confused, then continued to walk and he continued to follow, holding onto her skirt.
He followed her around like a puppy, still holding onto her, for a good five minutes. The entire time we sat and watched in silence, waiting for her to break.
When she finally did, she picked him and carried him over to the table. She stood him up on his chair and made sure he was looking at her. "You can tell your uncle Logan that I will go on one date with him. Only one. And I can leave whenever I want. You can also tell him that I'm busy for the next week so don't bother calling or texting until a week from now, got it?"
"Twenty bucks." He held his hand out, palm up, in front of me.
I stood up, took my wallet out, pulled out a twenty and handed it to him.
Amanda's jaw hit the floor. She turned to walk away. I held on to her arm gently, and then leaned in close. I heard her breath catch. My hand went to her waist. I think she stopped breathing. My heart stopped beating. "One week," I managed to say. "I can wait a week."
SEVEN
-Present-
"Fuck!" I hit the steering wheel and rolled my head against the headrest.
I had just left Jake and Micky's and was parked in front of the frat house. I couldn't get Amanda out of my head.
I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and pulled up her number. It wasn't the first time I'd wanted to call her.
I was about to hit call, when the front door of the house burst open, then slammed shut. Four of my frat brothers rushed out. Jackson was at the front of the pack, heading straight towards me, face red, fists balled. He was pissed. The others started talking shit, trying to calm him down.
"Dude!" Jackson yelled, finger pointed at me. "You slept with my fucking sister!"
Shit.
Not again.
***
I'd been packing to go home for the weekend to catch up on some studying, but mainly because Nathan, Jake's dad, had been blowing up my phone, which meant that something important was—or was about to—go down.
Dad had called and we'd spoken briefly, but he didn't know what was happening either. It was different now than it was when I was younger, because now I was an adult. And even though Nathan worked with kids mostly, he made an exception for me. Nathan didn't want to discuss whatever it was over the phone, so we'd made plans for me to go to his house and talk there. Jake wouldn't be at his parent's this weekend, in fact, he was having a few people over before the season started.
At least, that was the plan, until Nathan called. He had to fly out to an emergency job, so whatever it was he had to tell me could wait. He said it wasn't urgent in a time sensitive manner, just a need-to-know kind of thing. Whatever it was, I honestly didn't really care. It could only be about them. And I stopped giving a shit about them a long time ago.
***
So now I was at Jake and Micky's party, buzzed, up against a wall, with some girl's mouth on my neck. Go to any college party and it's the same scene. Only here, it was a little toned down, because these guys were almost pro athletes.
So. This girl on my neck was doing some crazy shit. It was definitely having the opposite effect of what she was intending, but I didn't care enough to pull her off. My attention was on my phone, trying to match up these three colored pieces of fucking candy. It felt like I was trying to work out the next move forever. I chuckled to myself, causing uh, Cindy? Britney? Tiffany? Oops. Anyway, she pulled back a little, her bright red lipstick smeared around her mouth.
"What's funny?" she asked with that high-pitched baby voice that I hated.
I shook my head, switching the screen off and placing it back in my pocket.
When I brought my eyes back up, I saw her.
Amanda.
She glared at me, mouth partially open, looking hotter than I'd ever seen her.
Stomach. Floor.
EIGHT
*Amanda*
Logan. Fucking. Matthews.
I hate him.
I hate his stupid smug ass of a face and that perfectly messy brown hair.
I hate those stupid green eyes and those perfect teeth, and that hot as fuck panty-dropping smile.
I hate his stupid deep dimples that show whenever he smirks from being an asshole—which is all the fucking time.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
I hate him so fucking much, I want to push him up against the wall and punch him in the face.
And then I want to lick it.
Then rip his fucking shirt off and finger his abs while he does that annoyingly manly chuckle that I love.
I hate him.
Stupid Fucking Logan Fucking Matthews.
Shit. I'm drunk.
And I've turned into Lucy.
NINE
-Present-
Logan
She turned to leave and instantly I was moving what's-her-face out of the way so I could get to her. I caught up and pulled her by her arm, into the hallway and into the spare room, closing the door behind her.
She leaned against it, her eyes wide.
