Made to be His ( The Archer Family 1)

She walked toward him and plopped down. Apparently she was determined to force him into noticing the warmth of her body beside him, the silkiness of her skin.

Like she was an agent of chaos sent specifically to drive him insane.

"What is that you, Logan Grant, world-class catcher and all-around lady killer, would need to think about?" she asked.

He held his breath for a moment, not sure how to answer. In truth, he didn't used to come here all that much. Maybe he'd been here a few times after he'd found the secret entrance, when he needed time alone, but not nearly as much as he'd been here after the accident.

Since then, he'd been here nearly every day, trying to clear his head and face Matt. Trying to face himself.

He'd sworn he wouldn't tell Andy any of that. Her family had suffered enough without reminding her of everything he'd caused, but what else could he say?

Opting for vagueness, he said, "Life."

"Existential." She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed one delicate ank

le over the other. "You know, I mostly just chill in my bed. When I need to think or to make some tough decisions, I go to the beach."

"The beach?" This surprised him. Of all the people he knew in San Diego, Andy was among a small handful that he’d never been to the shore with. In fact, he’d never even heard her talk about it before

"Yeah. I know, it’s kind of weird since I don’t really do the whole bikini thing. I’m more of a sensible, one-piece type gal."

He bit back the urge to tell her they needed to go shopping again and waited for her to continue.

“Anyway, I like to go to the shore and watch the sea lions when they come in. Or sometimes I just watch the waves. It makes me calm, you know? My brother, Derrick, and I used to go to the beach a lot before he was deployed. I always used to try to pick out girls for him while we watched the people passing.” She smiled at something Logan couldn’t see, but shook her head and continued.

“I like the beach. Now that Derrick is stationed in Hawaii, it makes me feel closer to him. Like he’s not so far away. And when I have to make a tough decision or think something over, I always go to the beach. It makes me feel…I don’t know. Centered, I guess.”

"When was the last time you went?" he asked.

When she met his gaze, it was tentatively. But when she spoke, it was hard as nails, like she was daring him to say something else. "Derrick called last week and told me that he found our mother. She was on vacation in Hawaii with her family. I guess she has two little girls now. New husband, too."

For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say, but she saved him from the necessity of having to answer. "I had to decide whether to call her. Or to contact her."

"And what did you do?"

She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear and said, "I've moved on. I decided it doesn't matter."

"I'm happy for you."

Her brows drew together and she scooted back. "Happy for me? That's a new one. People always tell me how sorry they are for me or ask how terrible it was to grow up without a mom."

"What good does any of that do?" She asked, knowing the answer. None. And he knew it firsthand. The sympathy was nice, but nobody needed it, not when it didn't come with understanding.

“All that shit is tough. I'm happy that you're tougher." He surveyed her, suddenly questioning why she'd told him all of that. Matt never had, and they were best friends. And now, after one day together, Andy was spilling family secrets?

Did she expect him to share his own demons? Like after one date he was going to explain to her the months of guilt he'd been wracked with?

No, there wasn't any anticipation in her features. Just the same sweet thoughtfulness that had been there before. But for whatever reason, that look alone made him want to tell her everything.

"I started coming here after Matt got hurt. I was fucked up afterward, you know? I couldn't go to the hospital, I could hardly play. I felt so guilty. Sometimes I would come here and replay it in my mind. Look at the base from all the different angles and see how I could have done things differently. It didn't change anything, but I thought if I could prove to myself that there was no other way, then maybe I might feel a little better. Like somehow I could make good."

He'd expected her to say something. People always did, always interjected with their arguments and their sympathy. Instead, she nodded, her expression as fixed as ever.

"It doesn't help. But it's something. Better than sitting in my apartment and watching ESPN until my eyes fall out of my head. Better than seeing the articles in the magazines." He finished speaking, unsure what else there was to add. Whatever there was, for some reason he felt like she would already know. Like she'd suspected all of this from the very start.

"Life lets you build up a lot of regrets if you let it, I guess." She lay back, resting her head on the dirt until her entire body was stretched across the ground. "It's a tough thing...so many things that could have gone differently. So many things that could have gone worse or better." She shook her head and closed her eyes, pulling in a deep sigh.

It was her way of showing sympathy. It wasn't an apology or a condolence. It was understanding. And for some reason, it was the only thing that had helped him feel even slightly better since the whole catastrophe had happened.