Chapter 18 #2
The dress I ended up choosing was a light blue one with ruffles at the hem, and I layered a white shirt underneath. Cute, similar to the outfit from our mini golf date, but still not trying too hard.
With just enough time to spare, too. After slaving over my hair, fussying my blonde locks into the perfect blowout, I hurried out of my bedroom with five minutes until six-thirty. I found Mom sitting at the kitchen table, and I faltered immediately at the sight of her. “Hey,” I began tentatively.
Mom had paperwork laid out in front of her and her reading glasses on, attention absorbed in the stapled stacks. “Hey.” She glanced up, and then did a double-take. “Where are you going?”
“Ashton’s having a bonfire,” I told her, the lie slipping easily from my tongue. “Riley and Kyle are picking me up.”
I’d thought that through—Mom wouldn’t recognize Logan’s car if she glanced out, which meant she’d immediately see through the lie if I’d said Jade and Connor were picking me up. But I’d bet five bucks that she had no idea what kind of car Kyle drove. It seemed like the safe play.
I felt a little bad for lying to her, of course, but it was a harmless little fib. I just couldn’t trust her to not accidentally let something slip. All it took was for Mom to accidentally say Logan’s name in front of Jade and it’d be game over. I couldn’t risk it.
But Mom still seemed suspicious. “Riley has never picked you up before.”
“Jade and Connor are already there, and it’d be easier if Riley got me on her way.” I swiped my house keys from the hook it hung off of. “I won’t be late. It’s a school night.”
Mom slipped her glasses lower on her nose, peering at me. “A bonfire on a school night?”
I shrugged. “We didn’t have homework tonight.” From where I stood, I could see when Logan’s dark red car pulled into the driveway. My heart jumped into my throat, and my voice was several pitches higher when I turned. “I’ll be back by ten, promise!”
“Wait!” Mom’s voice halted me in my tracks, and when I turned, I found that she’d picked my varsity jacket up from where it hung over the back of the chair, offering it out to me. “It’ll be cold.”
“I’ll just wear my other jacket—”
“You know Jade will want you wearing your spirit gear.” Her voice was tired. “Might as well take it to avoid a fight, don’t you think?”
I knew it was a bit of a red flag that Mom could so accurately predict Jade’s moods—because not having my varsity jacket would’ve irritated Jade, had my excuse been true—but now wasn’t the time to overanalyze.
I grabbed my jacket from her outstretched hand, slowly threading my arms through it.
I couldn’t come up with a viable lie fast enough, so I gave her a pinched smile before heading out.
It was ridiculous, the shot of electricity that jolted through me when I could see the outline of Logan’s body through the tinted windows.
To think that he was here for me. Part of my brain was stuck worrying that Mom would peek out the window out of curiosity, that she would see a boy she didn’t recognize behind the wheel.
The other part of me was squealing like a ten-year-old.
I rounded the front of his car, but when I reached for the handle, the door suddenly popped open. Logan leaned halfway into the passenger seat, and our eyes immediately locked. “I can at least open it from the inside,” Logan grumbled, his bottom lip sticking out ever so slightly.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say you were pouting,” I said with a laugh, sliding into the passenger’s seat. Logan’s car smelled like him, in a way that I wanted to just discreetly pull in big breaths. “Just because you weren’t allowed to open my door. It was just this once.”
Logan’s adorable little pout didn’t immediately vanish, but his eyes did lighten as he looked over at me. He rested his hand on the gearshift, like he was about to put it into reverse, but he hesitated. “There she is,” he said belatedly, a soft smile touching his mouth.
“Here I am.”
“I thought someone said they’d never wear spirit gear on a date,” he murmured, putting one hand on the seat rest behind my head to turn around. His eyes glanced down at my varsity jacket, a corner of his lips tugging higher.
“My mom thought she was doing me a favor.” I shrugged off my jacket and discreetly looked over at him while his attention was consumed with reversing.
He had on a pair of dark wash jeans and a simple dark red shirt, one that was a little baggy on his frame but stretched taut over his shoulders. “Am I overdressed?”
“You’re perfect, Juliet.” Logan, now on the roadway, glanced over as he shifted the car into drive. A lock of blond hair fell into his eyes as he did so. “You look beautiful.”
I curled my fingers in my varsity jacket on my lap to keep from reaching out and pushing his hair back. “You’re learning,” I said appreciatively, trying to tamp down the butterflies. “I’m proud.”
A small smile tipped up Logan’s lips, like a child who’d gotten complimented at school.
“So, what’s on our agenda?” I asked him. “What do you have planned for our next therapy session?”
“How seriously are we taking exposure therapy?” Logan glanced over, gauging my reaction. “Because I have something we could do, but it might be outside your comfort zone.”
“Do not tell me it’s playing one of those nerd role-playing games.”
“That’s Saturday.”
I looked over at him sharply. With the sunlight streaming through his side of the window, he looked almost angelic, as radiant as a ray himself as he grinned at his joke.
“It’s something that starts at seven,” he went on with a faint chuckle.
This time, when he reached over, he let himself go all the way to pat my knee.
My bare knee. The touch was chaste, but it still sent a shock of electricity through me.
“But if you want, we can do something else. Something more lowkey.”
My curiosity ate at me. “I trust you,” I told him, deciding to let myself be surprised. “I’m game for anything.”
“You can take it back later,” Logan told me generously. “At any time.”
Both of Logan’s hands were back on the steering wheel, and I stared at his right hand, willing it to come off again.
If it were anyone else, I’d have had no trouble in reaching over and prying his hand off the steering wheel, claiming his fingers.
Heck, even with Logan, I’d never struggled with making the first move before.
But this time, my hands only fidgeted in my lap.
The rain decided to pick back up, first starting off as a sprinkle of drops on the windshield before increasing to something steadier. Logan flipped on his wipers as I settled into the passenger’s seat, the atmosphere feeling just… perfect.
“Is this Untapped Potential?”
“I wondered if you’d notice.” Logan reached for the volume knob on the radio. “I put it on shuffle since I know you like them, too.”
The one playing right now was “Dancefloor,” which was a song the lead singer had written for his girlfriend. Again, just perfect.
I looked at Logan’s hand again. Would it be weird to just grab it? Probably. Maybe I could crack a joke, like are you not holding my hand because I didn’t let you open my door? Then again, I didn’t want to force him into holding my hand. I was probably so overthinking it. I just needed to—
“Have you ever danced in the rain?” he asked suddenly.
“Uh, no?” I snorted. “And ruin my hair?”
At first, I didn’t think anything of Logan flipping on his blinker and turning—until I realized he pulled into an empty parking lot.
He eased the car in the middle of two spaces, putting it in park.
Logan looked over at me, his gaze tracing my full face of makeup, my perfect blowout.
And then a small smile tugged at his lips.
“No.” I watched as he popped his seatbelt undone. “Logan, no—”
He opened his door and climbed out of the car, stepping straight into the rain.
It pelted down on him, plastering him within seconds.
His golden hair streamed into his eyes as he rounded the front of the car, clearly on a mission.
It didn’t occur to me to lock my door until he already stood on the other side, and without wasting a second, he tugged on the handle.
“Logan, don’t!” I all but screeched, but he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he offered a dripping hand out.
His shirt was stuck down like a second skin, the red color darkened so that it almost looked black. “Come on, Juliet.”
“Do you know how long it took me to do my hair?” I quickly cringed at the lame excuse. But—but—but— “We don’t even have any music!”
Logan reached past into the cab, and I yelped as rainwater dripped from him onto my lap. He twisted the volume dial on the radio, taking “Dancefloor” from quiet to blaring, and my hands flew up to my ears.
Logan grabbed my wrist then, and this time, he didn’t wait for me to agree. With his boyish smile, he drew me out of the passenger seat and into the rain.
I shrieked in protest, but my legs blindly followed his magnetized pull.
The rain was cold as he pulled me into it, seeping through my dress, and the curls I’d slaved over fell into a sopping mess within seconds.
Logan didn’t stop pulling me forward until he caught both of my wrists, and for a moment, it was just the two of us standing there, watching as the other became drenched.
And then, with a flash of his boyish smile, Logan made us dance.
Or, really, he started dragging me in a wide, almost bouncing a circle.
It wasn’t dark out, but his headlights still illuminated us.
He’d left the passenger door open, and the music booming from the speakers carried our path—carried Logan’s path.
His feet splashed across the wet pavement like we were on our own private dancefloor, the music and the rain charging him like a battery.
“We’re—” I blinked as the rainwater clouded my eyes, and I could feel my mascara begin to run. “We’re going to slip and break something!”