In to Her

He takes a deep breath and turns around, flopping back into the mess of covers and pillows.

“That was fun,” I say, still grinning.

I chance a look over at Logan. Find him smiling. “I’m gonna get you back for that.”

“Fuck you,” I say. “You loved it.” And then I twist one of Yvette’s nipples, making her squeal again. “And you,” I say.

“What?” she hums, eyes closed.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“You know what,” I say. “‘Choke me,’” I mimic her in a fake feminine voice.

“What can I say? I like it.”

But that’s not what it was. Choke me. It felt like…

“Stop thinking so hard,” she says, mimicking my masculine voice.

“I won’t be so nice next time,” I warn her.

“That was you being nice?”

“Yeah,” I say. And it comes out hard and harsh. “It was.”

“OK, kids,” Logan says. “Don’t make me pull this car over.”

We’re silent for a few minutes. Kinda awkward, long minutes. So I reach over and pull her close. “I don’t like it,” I say. “Don’t do it again.”

She rests her head on my chest and sighs.

“Did it stop snowing?” Logan asks.

Yvette doesn’t move so I look over at the window to check, but it’s impossible to tell because they’re iced over. The wind is howling. No change from yesterday. So I say, “I don’t think so.”

“The highway is probably still closed,” Yvette says, not bothering to open her eyes. “But it’s Monday. So no matter what the plows will be out, even if it’s just for the locals who live past the stop gates. They’ll open the whole thing by tonight if the snow lets up. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”

So. One more day. That’s all we get.

I have a sudden urge to get off this mountain. Damon hasn’t heard from us in almost twenty-four hours. He’s gonna get suspicious. Gonna be wondering if we got the job done.

“Can anyone get past those gates?” I ask.

“No,” Yvette mumbles, almost sleepily. “No. They keep a sheriff on each side, both ways, because people are stupid and you always get some newbie trucker on speed who thinks he’s God’s gift to eighteen-wheelers. So when they close shit down they take it pretty serious. It’s a very dangerous pass even in the summer. And the last thing our little county needs is a rescue and recovery mission for the dumbasses who don’t listen and go over the side.”

I kinda wish Damon would go over the side.

“Well, I’m gonna need a shower,” Logan says. “Someone spewed come all over my face.”

I laugh. Can’t help it. “Swallow next time, dude.”

“Fuck you. There’s not gonna be a next time.”

Oh, but there is, Logan. There is. He just doesn’t realize that yet.

Maybe I should help him out?

“You wanna know how I met Logan?” I’m looking at her when I say it so I see her eyes open.

“How?” she asks.

“Oh, God,” Logan moans. “Don’t tell that story.”

“I really want to hear it now.” Yvette giggles.

“It was in a bowling alley.” I laugh.

“Shut up,” Logan says. But he’s laughing too.

“We were like… what? Fifteen? Fourteen?”

“Fourteen,” Logan says.

“And he had decided he wanted to get drunk.”

“No,” Logan protests. “I was trying to get Jamie Fellows drunk so she’d have sex with me.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” Yvette says.

“I was fourteen,” Logan protests. “And it didn’t work anyway. She was faking it.”

“What do you mean?” Yvette asks.

“We thought we were all stealth. Had McDonald’s cups with wine in them that we kept refilling. And she was pouring her drinks into some planter in the arcade so Logan was the only one drinking.”

“I kept thinking, damn, this chick can fucking handle her shit! I gotta keep up.”

All of us laugh.

“He was wasted by the time nine o’clock rolled around. And a group of us were all going to see a movie that night.”

“Austin fuckin’ Powers.” Logan laughs.

“Oh, shit. That’s right. I laughed so hard in that movie. But Logan didn’t. Did ya, Logan?”

“I was so sick,” Logan says. “We were drinking Mad Dog 20/20. Jesus Christ. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. And Jamie Fellows looked at me, put her hand out and asked me if I was OK—”

“And he puked in her fucking hand!” I guffaw up at the ceiling.

“Gross.” Yvette giggles.

“Needless to say, I never did get in her pants.”

“We called him Mad Dog for like six years.” I laugh.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Logan says. Like he’d forgotten that part. “That’s what I was called when we met Damon. I think that’s why he wanted to be friends, now that I think about it. He thought I got the nick because I was some crazy brawler.”

“Well, you were that too. He didn’t wear suits back then. We were the same, remember?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just nods his head.

“I always liked you,” I say, my voice low now. Kinda serious.