Five
Logan
I walk out of the police department unable to stop smiling.
One week and I’ll be a step further away from becoming my dad.
For now I’ll have to focus on managing what animals we have left and any other chores my dad fell behind on before leaving.
I’ve listed some of his equipment for sale.
Once he finds out, no doubt he’ll come banging on the door and realize his key no longer works.
I need him to understand he gave up access to the house the moment he stopped contributing.
The money we make off the shit he left behind is going toward the debt he left my mom with so she can continue the process of getting her life back.
We haven’t heard from him since he last stopped by trying to pick a fight, and I’m hoping it stays that way.
Don’t give two shits where he is as long as it’s far away from here.
Sliding my sunglasses down onto my face, I block the sun from my eyes and climb into my car. My phone has two messages waiting for me, one catching my attention more the other.
Blake: Still over here waiting.
Winky face.
And he’ll keep waiting longer now, doubting himself so much that he’ll preen like the cat who caught the canary when I finally message him back, once again thinking he’s getting what he wants while selling his insecure self short.
Pathetic. I laugh, flipping to the next message, and I laugh harder, thinking of the best way to respond.
Jimmy: Congrats on getting hired today, fuck face. Let’s celebrate by me letting you buy me drinks all night.
Me: How’d you know I got hired?
Jimmy: So you did then? I fucking knew you would, Mr. Officer, Mr. Officer.
Me: Please, for the love of all that is holy do not play that song when you pick me up tonight.
Jimmy: So this is you agreeing to drinks, then? By the way, I was just screwing around. You only have to buy me drinks for half the night.
I let out a gruff laugh and write him back.
Me: Only if you’re putting out. See you at eight, then.
Jimmy: Nah, five. Ran into your mom earlier and she invited me over for dinner. Oh, and I’ll put out if you bring the cuffs.
Shaking my head, I crack a smile, and as I’m slipping the phone into my jacket pocket, it buzzes. Answering, I put it on speaker and start the car.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetie,” Mom says with dishes clinking in the background.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Wanted to see how things went today.” Hope rises in her voice.
“Good.” I smile. “I got hired on. I start at the academy in a week.”
“Oh, Logan. I’m so proud of you. I never doubted you for one second.”
I believe it too. She has more faith in me than I have in myself.
Her love kept me going. So did the hate from others.
I could either let their words defeat and define me or I could push back against them, proving them wrong.
“Thanks, Mom. Wouldn’t have been able to do it without my biggest support system. ”
“Oh, sure you could have.” She gushes. “You’re capable of doing anything you put your mind to. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I’ll try,” I muse.
“You on your way home?”
“Yup. Gotta get gas, but then I’ll be heading that way right after.”
“Anyway, are you able to stop by the market before you do?” Her tone shifts.
“Sure. What you need?”
“A bag of flour and butter. I thought I grabbed both on my last trip, but I must have forgotten, and Jimmy put in a request for my famous rolls.”
I laugh. “Of course he did. Anything else?”
She pauses, the line going quiet before she speaks again. “Sugar for the tea, but that should be it.”
“Okay. If you missed anything else, just shoot me a text.”
“Okay, sweetie. Love ya.”
“Love ya too. See ya soon.”
Ending the call, I drive out of the parking lot, and grumble when all the pumps are full at the first gas station I stop at. Pulling up to the one further down, I almost jump right back into my car when Blake’s blue eyes lock on mine. His lips curve, face beaming.
“Hey, you. I sent you a text not long ago. I didn’t accidentally put in the wrong number, did I?” He stretches his back over his car, propping a foot on the back tire.
“No, I got it,” I say, turning away from him to feed the machine my card. The cold air pricks at my cheeks but I can feel the heat from his stare spreading over the rest of me.
“So, did I get my hi back?” He chirps, removing the nozzle from his car and returning it to the pump.
“Wasn’t I supposed to say hi first?” I mutter, removing the nozzle to gas up my car.
“I . . . maybe. I don’t know. Must have heard you wrong.”
Of course. Hearing what he wants to hear. “If you don’t give me a chance to say it first, when I’m good and ready, then you don’t get it at all.”
His mouth opens and then closes. “I’m trying here.”
“Are you? And why exactly? What are you hoping to gain from all this?” The man wouldn’t know what good intentions were even if they slapped him in the face.
“Nothing. I want you to really believe I mean you no harm.”
“And?” I lower my gaze at him.
He tugs the strands of his hair, and his cheeks flush. “And because I think you’ll like me touching you as much as I’ll like doing it.”
“You thinking that way is the reason you’re going to keep waiting.”
He won’t give up, because he’s embarrassed himself enough as it is and is determined to come back from the inner shame somehow.
To really be the one who wins in the end.
This isn’t his game, though, and he’s too self-absorbed to see that.
Blake Mitchell doesn’t get turned down. Having it happen is making him work harder to ensure it doesn’t continue.
“So, you got dinner plans?”
“Yes,” I say a little too quickly, keeping my gaze forward and shoving my hands in my pockets. My eyes track the numbers on the screen, my heart thumping harder the more I stand here. If only I had some way to speed this up somehow and avoid another round of small talk with him.
“Oh, that’s cool. What are you doing after?”
The pump stops, making a loud clicking sound. “Bye, Blake.”
“Yeah okay, see ya—”
I cut off the rest of his words as I shut myself in my car.
He’s standing with his shoulders slumped, watching me as I pull away, so desperate for acknowledgement and an ego boost. So, so desperate.
He’s not going to get it from me. I should never have begun to entertain him in the first place.
Now I just have more work ahead of me. It’s okay, though.
I enjoy seeing him look like some kicked puppy—beautifully dejected.
He’s so used to everyone catering to his whims, and eager to be where he is when I keep shutting him down.
I keep seeing those downturned eyes and his confused face in my mind.
I keep seeing him sulking and silently begging me to come back.
It’s becoming addicting. This newfound power.
This feeling I get from being the one who has something he wants—something only I can give him.
The longer you go without getting what you’re after, the more your need for it grows.
I’ll ensure his need for me keeps growing in the right direction, offering him one tiny crumb at a time and always holding back.
He won’t stop coming for it either, not when he thinks he’s so close to having his way. He really does believe he’ll eventually get his way, and as long as he thinks that, the longer I’ll be able to use his theory against him.
The grocery store parking lot is nearly empty when I arrive, and when I walk inside I go right to the baking aisle, before hopping on over to the dairy section next. I check my phone, making sure my mom doesn’t need anything else before hauling my basket toward the checkout.
The cashier greets me with a smile, slowly scanning my items and motioning to where I can set my basket. How did I forget? It’s going to be a while before I find my groove here again.
My card threatens to slip from my fingers when Blake strolls through the double doors, eyes widening in my direction.
His lips press tightly together and there’s a look of struggle on his face.
He stares in my direction a little longer, before waving at the women standing behind the pharmacy counter, and as he waits for his prescription to be filled, he rocks on his feet, head moving from side to side as he stops himself from looking back at me.
He’s waiting for his hi. The redhead hands him his bag, and when my transaction goes through, I snatch my groceries from the belt.
“Thank you.” I run my eyes over the smiling woman’s badge. “Claire.”
“You’re welcome.”
As I’m walking out, another person I went to high school passes me by. A cheerleader who got along with just about everyone, not ever making one enemy. It’s not that easy for everyone. Smiling and friendliness only went so far for me when it came to certain people.
“Hi there, Laura. Long time, no see.” My gaze bounces between her and Blake.
“Hey . . .” She blinks, and recognition doesn’t settle in her eyes for a long moment, but when it does, her face brightens. “Oh my god. Logan, is that you?” Leaning back, she looks me over. “I can’t believe it. You look incredible. College life suits you.”
“Thanks. I actually decided to go another route, though, and you don’t look so bad yourself,” I say in a flirty tone, catching more of Blake’s attention as he opens a nearby cooler, fetching himself a Pepsi as he wonders why her and not him.
“Are you here for good?”
“I am.” I move my bags to my other wrist. “Missed being home and actually just got hired at the police station in town.”
“No way.” She lightly slaps a hand to my shoulder and I swear I can feel Blake’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. “That’s amazing,” she continues. “Congratulations. Are you doing anything to celebrate tonight?”
“Yeah. Me and Jimmy are going out for drinks. Not sure where yet but it’s not like we have many options.” I let out a half-hearted laugh.
“Oh, fun. Maybe I can join y’all. Here, take my number and hit me up later when you figure out all the details. I’d love to catch up.” She hands me a business card reading Laura’s Baked Goods at the top.
“Yeah, definitely. You have your own bakery?” My fingers flex along the corners of the card.
“Kinda. I’m only just getting started, but if you need a cake or cookies for an upcoming party, I’m your girl.
” Her eyes sparkle, traveling down my body again.
What’s with all these people who once had better options suddenly taking an interest in me?
Have they run out over the years? Like fuck, if someone told me all I had to do was leave and come back in order to have better luck in the dating department, I would have done it a long time ago.
I have zero interest in her in that way, though, or anyone at the moment, for that matter.
Too many other opportunities in front of me to waste my time on some quick lay or dates that won’t lead very far.
Women like this have never been my type anyway.
Though I consider myself bi, I’ve only ever taken an interest in one girl and .
. . well, I guess I’ve only found myself attracted to one guy too.
What I’ve experienced with Blake isn’t as simple as that, though.
To most he’s a catch, and breathtaking, but to me he’s only pretty when he’s breaking.
When he’s beside himself and looking dejected.
I’m drawn to that sadness and anguish in his eyes, so much that I want to make him smile just so I can take it away all over again.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking toward the row of baskets. “I better get going. Don’t want to fall behind on my first few orders.”
“Nah. You wouldn’t want that. I have to go myself. My mom won’t be too happy if I bring her melted butter.”
Her laugh is so overexaggerated as she bats her eyes, and the longer I stand here, the more bored I become. Then plastic crushes behind me, and my interest piques again. Is he listening to our conversation? Will it make him try even more to get me to want him back? Will he try harder?
I like it when he tries. Mostly because he normally doesn’t think he has to, and probably doesn’t realize he’s even doing it with me.
The man’s barely had to lift as much a finger in his life to get what he wants, and having to do so with me has him at a loss.
He’s having to fight a pretty girl for the loser pig boy’s attention and it’s not faring well for him.
“Yeah, I imagine not,” she banters playfully. “It was really good running into you. Hope to hear from you later.”
“See ya,” I say, whipping my head in Blake’s direction as he finally pays for that damn Pepsi he’s been holding on to for far too long.
No telling how many dents and cracks it has in it by now.
I shoot him a blank stare before exiting the store, those piercing blue eyes following me to my car.
I try not to look down at my phone as I wait for what I’m hoping will come next.
Right as I’m pulling up in front of my house, a reason for me to make him wait even longer causes my phone to vibrate.
Blake: You seem to be going to a lot of the same places as me today. Maybe it’ll happen tonight too, and I’ll finally get my hi.
Me: I wouldn’t hold my breath.
Smiling, I exit the car, carrying one bag on my wrist. There’s no doubt in my mind I’ll be running into my high?school bully again, sending him home pouting when he once again doesn’t get the ‘hi’ he has no problem getting from anyone else.
None of them will do, though. Not when he wants it from the one person who refuses to bend over backward for him.
Not when the only person he needs it from is me.