I Love You, I Hate You: Part 2

I set my empty shot glass on the counter and throw my arms around Logan’s neck. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me so close that I almost fall off my stool. I pull back and look up into his dark eyes that finally seem to have a little life in them. For the first time since seeing Logan at our parents wedding, he doesn’t look drained. “We should toast, to that prick becoming someone’s prison bitch.”

Logan chuckles as the bartender hands us two more. Logan clinks his tiny glass with mine and we both swallow our shots. The sweet-sour mixture feels like lava going down my throat, heat spreading throughout my body as it goes. “Another?”

Logan sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and grins. “Sure, but since we’ve already broken your one drink rule, how about we go somewhere else?”

I cross my legs, letting the hem of my dress creep up my thigh. Those shots are hitting me hard, but in a good way. I feel light and find the smile tugging on my lips won’t go away. I lean my elbow on the bar top, giving Logan an eye full of cleavage. “Where did you have in mind?”

27

Logan

Having Danika in my car again is surreal. True, this might not be the exact car I had in high school, but it’s all the same. Danika leans forward, fiddling with the radio until she finds a song she likes then leans back against the seat and closes her eyes. She rolls her head to the side, her long bangs splaying across her face. She blows a tuft of air at the strands twice then gives up and moves them aside with her fingers. “So what kind of stuff are you listening to these days?”

I use my phone’s face recognition to unlock it, then open my music app. Finding the playlist titled Evil Cunt, I toss the phone in her lap. “The radio or everything on that playlist.”

“Evil Cunt?” She chuckles. “Is this based on anyone I know?”

My cheeks heat from embarrassment. No one knows about that playlist. It’s what grounds me, keeps me sane on my darkest of days. “You could say that.”

Danika scrolls through the long list of songs. Each one a nod to a specific moment we shared. Some songs are upbeat. Some are ballads. And some are the heavy metal I-love-you-I-hate-you type. Her lips stretch into the biggest smile I’ve seen as she looks up at me with her big Bambi eyes. She gasps, “No”

“Yes?” I don’t know which song she’s foun

d, but I’m about to. Danika leans forward and presses the Sync button on my radio. My phone wirelessly streams and I know which song she’s picked from the first note played.

“I freaking love this song.” Danika closes her eyes and reclines her seat back. Her head bobs along with the first verse and when the chorus sings she whispers, “I’m only me because of you.”

I grip the steering wheel, letting the memories wash over me. High school was a long time ago, but no one has made my heart beat the way it does when we’re together. This feeling, being with her, is like coming home after a long day’s work. She is my home.

“Where are we going?” Danika asks when the song ends.

“A joint called The Rusted Nail.”

“Never heard of it.”

“We have about fifteen more minutes before we get there.” Another song plays out, silence stretching between us. The air in the car has shifted, thickened since hearing Because of You. “Where is Molly tonight?”

“With our parents.”

“You trusted my mom with her?” I sneak a glance at Danika from the corner of my eye. Danika hates my mother more than I hate broccoli. “I’m impressed.”

She tucks her hair behind her ears then crosses her arms. “My dad’s off tonight, he’ll keep Molly safe.”

Now it all makes sense. That girl would rather die a thousand deaths than leave Molly alone with mom. “Come on, Dani. Mom’s not that bad.”

“Tessa ignored your abuse for years, Logan. Years. How can I ever trust her with our daughter?”

There’s no sense in arguing. If Tessa wasn’t my mother, I’d probably feel the same way. Instead, I hold my hand out palm up, half expecting the gesture to be ignored, but Danika laces her fingers with mine. The everyday pressure of life I live with lifts from my chest. For the first time in a long time, I don’t want a drink. I want to dance and make this night last as long as possible, remembering every detail. “You called Molly our daughter.”

“Of course I did. She’s yours, too.”

“You always say your daughter.”

Danika rolls her eyes and attempts to pull her hand away but I hold on tight. Doesn’t she know that now I’ve got her again I’m never letting go? “Semantics, Logan. Don’t ruin this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Seriously?” Danika raises her eyebrows and looks around the room. “A country bar?”