Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Logan
I feel like such an asshole for earlier this morning when Elizabeth realized what time it was. There’s also a little bit of guilt, knowing that had I not started anything with her when I woke up, she might’ve had a chance to get to work on time.
“Fuck,” I say to myself as I look around her bedroom. It needs to be picked up, but I don’t even know what to do first. Maybe clean her sheets. Does she even have a washer and a dryer in here? The place might be too small for that.
Sighing like I got the weight of the world on my shoulders, I run a towel over my wet hair. I just took a shower, and I have to say that I love the way Elizabeth’s soap smells on me. It’s like she’s right here with me.
“Okay, what the hell should I start with?” I look around one more time.
I decide that putting some clothes on first sounds like a good idea. Unfortunately, I don’t have my bag with me, so I don’t have any clean underwear to put on, and I don’t want to re-wear what I already took off.
I lean down to grab the dress pants from last night and put them on but forgo the shirt.
I grab the key fob to my car, planning on grabbing the travel bag out of my trunk really quick.
Since it’s a workday, not very many people should be out there right now.
Besides, it’s Texas, where it’s hotter than hell for longer than where I came from.
Me not having a shirt on shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary, despite of also being barefoot.
With thoughts of Elizabeth still on my mind, I rush out the door and high step it to my car where I quickly find the bag containing a change of clean clothes for me. The pavement is hot under my feet, causing me to skip back to the stairs that lead to Elizabeth’s apartment.
To my surprise, when I get there, I find myself locked outside. I didn’t think of checking her lock to make sure it wouldn’t automatically close on me.
I drop the bag to the ground and stick my fingers in my hair, pushing it back. “Ah, fuck my life.”
Unsure of what to do next, I lean against the door and look around. I don’t even know what time it is, because my phone is inside the apartment, but I’m pretty sure there are a lot of hours before Elizabeth gets out of work.
Something heavy falls to the ground, and I notice that I dropped the key fob. As I reach for it, I realize that I could just drive home, change, then come back closer to when Elizabeth is supposed to get here.
Feeling better now that I have a plan in place, I pick up my bag and take the three necessary steps to the stairs that would take me down to the parking lot and back to my car. I about jump out of my skin when I notice someone standing at the foot of the stairs.
“Elizabeth,” I call out to her, incredibly happy to see her. “I can’t believe you’re here. I locked myself out…”
Her eyes go up and down my naked torso before dropping down my legs and to my bare feet, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she takes one step at a time while moving as slow as one can. Her expression is closed off and she avoids any eye contact.
“Are you okay?” I ask when she makes it up to where I’m standing.
She doesn’t answer my question, but she doesn’t tell me off either. That’s a plus I suppose. When she unlocks the door, she steps in and leaves the door open, not even glancing back to make sure that I’m following.
As soon as I am inside, I drop my bag and key fob on the small table close to the entrance and follow her to the living room where I watch her dropping to the couch.
Before following her suit, I take a step into the kitchen to see what time it shows on the stove.
My eyebrows go up in surprise when I realize that it’s not even three hours since she left for work.
Convinced that something is off, I rush back to where she sits in silence, almost scared to say anything but knowing I have to.
“I didn’t expect you home this early, baby.” I let out a nervous chuckle, mostly because she doesn’t react. “I took a quick shower, then realized I didn’t have any clean clothes, so I ran out to my car. But then, I locked myself out of the apartment,” I laugh.
Elizabeth doesn’t react in any way. She continues staring at nothing as I continue running my mouth.
“I was standing there, wondering if I should run to my place until you were off work, then come back here,” I continue with my explanation.
I am at the point where I don’t know what else to add given that she’s not talking. I’m even scared to sit next to her, but then again, standing is awkward, too. It’s like I am this looming figure over her petite frame.
“Lizzie, you’re worrying me,” I confess. “What’s going on? Why are you home so early?”
She finally brings herself to look at me. At first, her face is impassive, and I don’t expect her to actually talk. But then, something happens. And it’s not good.
“I got fired.”
Her voice is so shaky when she gives me the news, I wonder if I heard her right. I drop to my knees in front of her, forcing her to continue looking at me.
“You what?”
Her mouth trembles under my watchful eyes while her eyes fill with so many tears, I don’t think she can actually see me anymore.
“They let me go,” she clarifies for me. “They didn’t think I was the right fit for the job.”
I don’t even know what to say to make her feel better. On one hand, she kept on saying how much she hated this job, so this should feel like a blessing. On the other hand, she was desperate not to lose her job because she needed the money. This is not good for her.
“Is it…” I clear my voice a couple of times. “Is it because you were late this morning?”
She nods and my heart sinks. “It wasn’t my first time, though. And they also said…”
Looking like she needs a moment, she takes a deep breath in that sounds like it’s meant to cleanse her very soul.
“They said I didn’t look happy, and that I was faking my excitement when talking to the players.”
I scratch at my head, completely at a loss for words. “Were you?” I ask.
“Was I what?” she snaps at me.
“Faking excitement.” I shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal.
“You try talking about nutrition and calories in, calories out, protein and carbs all day long,” she wails. “Who in their right mind would be happy about it?”
The effort I’m making not to laugh at what she just said is hurting my jaw. I know she didn’t mean to be funny, but she is so adorable with how offended she is by the mere thought that anyone in this world would be happy to be a professional nutritionist.
She smacks me in the head with a decorative pillow. “It’s not funny!”
“I know, I’m so sorry!”
I drop my head to her lap and hug her to me. I let out a sigh of relief when I feel her hands coming to my hair, playing with the strands.
“I messed everything up,” she whispers after a few long moments of silence.
I’m not sure what grabs my attention more, her words or the sad tone of her voice.
“You didn’t mess anything up, Lizzie,” I assure her. “I feel guilty as fuck for not waking you up earlier this morning. I just… I misunderstood, thought it was a nine-to-five job,” I explain. “Who works eight to five?”
“I don’t even know,” she shrugs. “This was my first real job. I don’t know how any of this works.” Tears roll down her face. “What am I going to do, Logan?”
I grab both of her hands and bring them to my mouth, kissing each one of her knuckles.
“We’ll figure it out, Lizzie. Whatever you do next, you’ll rock at it,” I promise her.
She gives me a sad smile, tears still running down her cheeks. “I am too impulsive sometimes,” she says. “I moved here to be with you, but I didn’t really have a plan. I just wanted us to be together. That was the plan,” she laughs in self-deprecation.
I squeeze her hands into mine. “That was the best plan, Lizzie. I’m so happy that you’re here.”
She pulls her hands out of my grip, acting like she wants to put some distance between us. I lean back on my heels and wait to see what she says next.
She leaves me hanging for a little longer as she drops her elbows onto her knees before resting her face in her hands.
“I have no idea what other job I would be qualified to do,” she finally says. “I hate the whole office setup idea. What if what happened today will happen again at the next place? And the one after that?”
Panic is obvious in her tone as she comes up with scenarios where she fails in each one of them.
“I can’t afford to stay in this apartment,” she continues. “Or any apartment, period.”
Another big sigh ensues. I am still sitting back, mulling things over. I can afford to help her, and, considering that she is my girlfriend, it wouldn’t be weird if I supported her for a while. Right?
“I can pay for your apartment.” The words spill from my lips like that was the plan all along when in fact I just make shit up as I go. “I got money.”
The gasp of shock coming out of Elizabeth tells me that I may not have said the right thing.
“That’s a terrible idea, Logan!” She pushes at my shoulders, almost causing me to topple over. ‘Besides, I need a job to support myself. Are you planning on paying for an apartment for me for the rest of your days?”
That throws me off. “Uh, maybe not all of the days…”
“God, what a fiasco!” She throws herself back against the couch. “I can’t believe I have to go back crawling to my father,” she suddenly says. “It will be the most humiliating thing I will ever have to face, I’m sure of it.”
The thought of her father gives me the chills up and down my spine. That is no surprise considering my experience with him. But I’d hate for him to hate me even more for destroying his daughter’s life.
The logical part of my brain tells me that I didn’t force Elizabeth to move to Texas. She followed me here of her own free will. Not only that, but she never even told me that she was doing that. With that said, I don’t think I have any responsibly toward her, which she also acknowledges.
The part of my brain that is so in love with her that it causes me not to think straight tells me that she is absolutely my responsibility. It is something that I want, crave even, just as much as I want her.
“I have an idea,” I tell her on a whim.
She huffs in annoyance. “Does your idea make me money?”
The wheels move in my head at a slightly faster pace. “Possibly.” Okay, I’m not sure at all about that part.
“What’s this idea, Lo?” she prods.
“Well…” I let out a long puff of breath. “Hear me out, okay?”
Elizabeth doesn’t say anything. Her eyes go all around the room, the sadness on her face breaking my heart.
“It’s going to sound crazy,” I start. “And I’m sure that people don’t do this kind of stuff at such speed, but…”
“But what?” she asks when I stop talking.
“What if…” I take another deep breath in, praying that I am not about to ruin both if our lives. “What if you moved in with me?”
Her eyes widen in surprise. It is the last thing she thought she’d hear from me, I’m sure.
“Lo,” she whimpers. “This is an incredibly generous offer, but I can’t accept.”
Now it is my turn to look surprised. “Why not?” I demand to know. “It’s the perfect solution. I have the space, and you need the space. It’s a no brainer.”
She crosses her arms over her chest in defiance. “I don’t need your pity, Logan Mantei,” she snaps at me. “I’d rather beg my father to let me back in than feel like charity work to you.”
“Charity work?” I bust out laughing. “You’re ridiculous, Lizzie,” I tease but then get serious. “I want to help you because I love you. I don’t take our relationship lightly.”
That’s apparently the wrong thing to say. She starts crying again, but this time, it sounds different, more desperate somehow. I get up from the floor and sit next to her on the couch. As soon as my ass hits the cushions, she jumps in my lap.
She wraps her arms around my neck and continues to cry, to the point where there’s a wet snotty mess on the bare skin of my shoulder.
It feels a little gross, but I don’t have the heart to push her off me.
Instead, I hold her until she is ready to calm down.
I run my hands up and down her back, every so often dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
“Please let me do this for you, Lizzie,” I whisper into her ear. “I really think it’s going to work out. I will help you get a job, too…”
“I’m not qualified to do anything,” she sobs. “The only reason I even had a chance to interview for this job is because of some connections I had made through my father.”
I really feel for her. If I didn’t have hockey, I don’t know what else I could do. I’m literally not good at anything else.
We are a couple of misfits.