49. thanK you aIMee
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
thank you aimee
ABI
REYNOLD’S VINEYARDS
PRESENT DAY
It’s funny how three little words can change the course of your life.
But I don’t regret them. I don’t regret any of this.
The only thing I regret is that it took me this long to tell him how I feel. We missed out on three years of kisses, three years of dates, three years of lying in bed together and showing each other stupid shit on our phones.
I think about what he said to me in Irish.
Is tú mo chroí.
You are my heart.
He’s mine, and the steadfast joy that comes from that simple fact keeps me calm.
Keeps me here.
Logan Flynn has tattooed himself onto my heart.
“Abi?” His voice slices through my train of thought as he hands me my blouse. “Don’t wanna forget this.”
“Are you sure? Maybe I could start a new fashion trend. I’ll call it Tits Out .”
“I like it!” Logan chuckles as he buckles his belt. “But I think there are children outside. You don’t want to be put on a list.”
“True, true,” I giggle, buttoning up my blouse. “Although, after what I did, I’m not really sure if I want to show my face anywhere around here.”
“You wanna go home?” Logan asks.
“Actually, maybe we can see if Kat and Marcus want to head to the Black Bear? We can play one last game of pool tonight, since I don’t think we’ll get a chance before we leave on Monday.”
“That sounds good!”
The residual pain from my conversation with Brendan still lingers, but I’ve come to the realization that maybe him being such a douchebag was the closure I needed.
He didn’t love me, but Logan does.
And more importantly, I love myself enough to embrace the change that’s occurring in my life. I don’t know where I’m going to end up, but I know I won’t be alone.
“I think I’m going to tell Frankie the truth,” I murmur as I do up the last button.
“After you get the job?”
“No, after the interview.” I run my hand through my hair. “If it doesn’t work out?—”
“It will.”
Logan, always the optimist.
“If it doesn’t … I’ve got money in my savings account. I can take a few months off of teaching, and maybe look into some more grants for my project.”
“Hey, we could finally write that book we’re always talking about,” Logan replies. “That Andrew guy at Oxford University Press is still bugging me about it. I’m actually supposed to have a meeting with him when we get back.”
Over the years, we’ve talked about writing a book on melding theory with research methodology, and all of the complexities and pitfalls that go into it. Logan’s a methodology wizard and theory is my bread and butter. We’d be a killer combination, and I know we’d have a blast working together on a bigger project.
“That would be great.”
He wraps his arms around me.
“When you tell Frankie, I’ll be there for you, okay?”
“Do you think we’ll get into as much shit as Roman and Imogen?”
Logan shakes his head.
“Nah. Especially not if you’re already got the other job in the bag.”
“Logan, I don’t know if I’m?—”
He presses a finger to my lips, his eyes lighting up as he smiles.
“ Show me how good it gets, remember?”
“I remember.”
He kisses me, and in that tiny little moment, I’ve never felt so at home.
“Come on, let’s find Kat and Marcus and blow this popsicle stand.”
He heads for the door, grabbing the handle and frowning when it doesn’t turn.
“What the?—”
I slip around him, rattling the handle myself before slamming my body against the door. It doesn’t budge.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Here, let me try again. Maybe it needs my magic touch after all.”
“Yeah, or a locksmith,” I mutter, folding my arms over my chest.
He takes over again, jiggling and turning the knob from side to side for a few seconds before stepping back.
“Yeah, that’s definitely locked.”
“Magic touch, huh?” I tease.
Logan rolls his eyes.
“It’s probably busted. That’s why Carly couldn’t get in.”
“I’ll text Kat. She can rescue us.”
I tap the pocket of my skirt, my heart dropping when I don’t feel my phone.
I could have sworn I brought it with me.
“What’s wrong?” Logan asks. “You’re turning green.”
I scramble for my purse that’s sitting abandoned next to the puddle of champagne on the floor and fumble through it with shaking hands.
Nothing.
“I think I left my phone back at the guest house, and I don’t have her number memorized anymore.”
“Okay, okay,” Logan murmurs, nodding quickly to himself as he steps backward. “That’s cool. I’ll just body slam the door.”
“You’ll body slam the door?! Are you fucking?—”
It’s too late, Logan’s already eyeball-deep in his stupid plan.
He takes a running leap, hurling himself against four inches of thick wood. His body hits it with a dull thunk and he collapses like a baby deer, sprawled out on the floor.
“Logan!”
I rush for him, turning him over onto his back, and he stares at me for a moment, blinking like he’s in a daze.
“Are you okay?!”
His body shakes, laughter tumbling from his lips until he’s red in the face. It’s infectious, and soon, the two of us are slumped on the floor, holding each other while tears of joy stream down our cheeks. This night could not get any more chaotic, and for some reason, it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“I can’t fucking believe this!” Logan howls. “Jesus Christ, it’s too perfect.”
“Almost like it was fate.”
Maybe we were supposed to go on this trip, supposed to have all of these stumbles and near misses. Maybe we were supposed to convince ourselves that we could never be together, only to get locked in my ex-fiancé’s wine cellar. The world works in mysterious ways. It’s like the universe got tired of the endless pining and longing stares and finally forced us to work our shit out.
Logan kisses me.
“I think we might have to start yelling for someone to rescue us.”
“I think you’re right,” I chuckle.
We get to our feet, the two of us pounding on the door as we scream for help.
“There’s a murderer in here!” Logan bellows.
“Logan!”
“What?! I’m creating a sense of urgency!” His eyes go wide and he starts slamming his fists against the door, causing it to tremble. “Fire! A bomb! The Sharknado!”
I can hear someone chattering above us, and Logan grabs a large broom in the corner and starts slamming it against the ceiling.
“Hey! Let us out of here!”
I sigh, glancing around the room for something to pick the lock. It’s a large space, with part of the room disappearing around a corner. I wander off while Logan keeps shouting. No tools or tool boxes, just a hell of a lot of barrels, racks of wine…
And a window near the very corner of the room.
“Logan!” I shout. “I found us a way out!”
I hear the broom clatter against the floor and he jogs over, letting out a sigh of relief when he catches sight of the window.
“You think we can squeeze through that?”
“I mean, I was thinking we could yell for help,” I reply. “But you do you.”
He doesn’t even wait, already forging ahead with another ‘brilliant’ plan, grabbing one of the barrels and dragging it all the way to the window.
“If I get stuck, you’ll pull me out, right?”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“I guess that’s my first official duty as your girlfriend.”
Logan lets out a dorky laugh, placing a kiss on my lips.
“I love the sound of that.”
“Yes, it’s all very romantic, but please don’t get stuck. This night cannot get any more embarrassing for me.”
“Hey, you fell in love with the guy who won Emerald Bay’s Most Embarrassing Bachelor . I make no promises!” He calls, clamoring onto the barrel and rattling the window open.
“The title doesn’t count if you gave it to yourself!”
I can feel the cool breeze rush in as Logan pulls himself up, trying to pull himself up through the window while his legs dangle behind him.
Actually, it looks more like he’s wriggling like a trout.
“God, I wish I had my camera right now.”
“Shut up! You try fitting this supple bottom through such a tiny space!”
We’re the only ones in the room, but I still catch myself glancing around to make sure nobody else is seeing this.
“I think I’m getting it!” He squawks.
He keeps kicking, his body jerking and snapping as he finally manages to pull himself out.
“Come on!”
He shoves his face back through the gap, dirt smeared all over his chin.
“You know…” I climb up onto the barrel and hoist myself up with a grunt. “This is definitely not how I pictured my ten year reunion.”
It’s a bit of a struggle to get out, but with Logan’s help, I manage to get to my feet.
“It’s so much better,” I laugh.
“Well, we made it out alive, Shortcake,” he murmurs, pulling me close. “All thanks to you.”
“I think you probably would have broken that door down eventually…” I stroke his cheek. “After a dislocated shoulder, some broken ribs, and?—”
“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I guess ruthlessly mocking me is already part of our relationship, so why would that change, right?”
“I think it’s going to become an even more important cornerstone.”
Whenever Logan kisses me, it feels like he’s the puzzle piece I’ve always been missing, like I’m one step closer to being made whole.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’ve waited so fucking long to say it, and I never want to stop.”
“Me neither. Can we run down the street screaming it, or is that too dramatic?”
“A little, but I always appreciate some theatrics.”
In a single heartbeat, I traded my best friend for the love of my life.
I have him.
Fully, completely.
And now, I want to embrace the rest of my life instead of trying to hold on to the parts of it that have already fallen away. I came back here wanting to seem successful, wanting to prove that I wasn’t the social outcast I was in high school. I spent this entire trip worrying about Brendan and what the people here would think about me, when I should have seen what was sitting right in front of me all along.
And then I did.
“What the hell happened to you two?” Marcus laughs, the two of them rounding the corner.
I figure they probably heard all that noise we were making when we were trying to get out, but the second I lock eyes with Kat, her jaw drops.
“You guys were raw dogging it in the wine cellar!”
“I’m restricting your internet access,” Marcus shakes his head. “That’s disgusting.”
Logan grins.
“Good guess! We also may have smashed a wine bottle?—”
“Shh!” I cover his mouth. “You would be the worst criminal in the world!”
Marcus snorts, patting Logan on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, we won’t sell you out. I’m sure Abi’s told you, but Canada has a national no snitching policy.”
“Nice job tossing that drink in Brendan’s face, by the way” Kat says, looking me up and down. “You made him change his shirt, and the new one’s really ugly.”
“Well, he deserved it.”
“What did he even say to you?” She asks.
I take a breath, letting the past slip away as I reach for Logan’s hand.
“Nothing important.”
As I glance around at my old classmates, I feel like I can finally start to close the door to this chapter of my life. I’m moving onto bigger and better things, no matter what happens. There’s nobody to impress, nobody to brag to… I don’t know if I was ever really interested in that anyway.
“You guys wanna get the fuck out of here and shoot some pool?” Marcus asks.
“Please,” I sigh. “I think I’ve had just about enough of Reynolds Vineyard for a lifetime.”
Logan wraps his arm around me and the four of us head for the exit. A few people gawk as we pass, and just next to the front gate, I spot Brendan and Carly in a heated discussion. It looks like she’s really laying into him— until she spots us.
Brendan lingers behind her, hands shoved into his pockets. Even now, he’s still too much of a coward to face me alone.
“I take it you’re seeing yourself out after the little stunt you pulled back there?” She snarls.
For a moment, I think about asking her which stunt: tossing a drink in her pathetic husband’s face or defiling her precious little wine cellar. But as quickly as the thought enters my brain, it vanishes. Whatever hatred or made up jealousy she has for me after all these years isn’t going to dissipate any time soon, and I don’t need to do anything to stoke that fire.
“Carly, you got everything you ever wanted.”
My words are calm and soft, and clearly not at all what she expected.
“What?”
She clenches her fists, still ready for a fight.
“You’re gorgeous, you got your dream guy, you have a beautiful baby, a beautiful property… and I hope it makes you happy.”
I brush right past her, not even looking back.
“Damn, Shortcake,” Logan murmurs.
“Pretty good, huh? And I didn’t even cry!”