I Love You, I Hate You: Part 1

“Done,” Logan whispers.

Thank God I’m not in heels because the deep, gravelly voice of his would have knocked me on my ass. Logan’s fingers skate across the back of my neck, drifting to my collarbone. I stand, still as a statue, until the warmth of his lips press against the crook of my neck. I gasp and look over my shoulder. He tilts his head, waiting for me to signal again that it’s okay to kiss me when a horn honks outside.

Beep! Beep!

Logan takes a step back and exhales the same moment I do. The guilt I felt on the football field washes over me like a tidal wave. I’m drowning in regret because I wish Logan was my date tonight and not Gunner. Too bad I already made my bed, now I have to lie in it. “You should come with us.”

“Nah,” Logan says, running a hand through his intentionally disheveled hair. He’s got that sexy just-been-fucked look and I have to force myself not to wonder what it actually looks like after sex. “I don’t like not having my car.”

“Isn’t half the fun of a dance getting drunk and not having to worry about driving?” Not that I have any intention of getting drunk tonight. I’m sure there will be beer or something in the limo and probably more at the after party. I just don’t plan on having more than two drinks tonight.

Logan leans against the door and crosses his arms, pulling his shirt tight across his chest. “Wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to a dance before.”

Damn he’s hot. How is it humanly possible for one person to look this good?

“Why are you going to this one?” I step around him, pushing the curtain aside to peer out the window. Our time is running out. The back passenger door of the stretch limo opens and Gunner steps out. He looks good in his tailored suit that probably costs twice as much as my dad’s car payment, but Logan looks better. “Do you have a date?”

Logan takes my hand and nervous tingles climb my arm. I turn my gaze to him, letting myself get lost in his eyes that I swear just twinkled. He brings my palm to his lips, kissing the tender spot beneath my thumb. “No, but someone made it known that I’ve been a shitty friend. I’m going for you, Danika, just in case something happens.”

“It’s a school dance. How much trouble can I get into?”

Logan chuckles darkly, and I can't help but wonder if he knows something I don't. “Guess we’ll find out.”

18

Logan

I think St. A’s has every dance at the Horizon Hotel. I thought I heard once that someone’s aunt or something owns the place and gives us a discount or whatever. I don’t actually know because the line I gave Danika about not having been to a dance wasn’t bullshit.

I’ve never had a girlfriend, never wanted one, so the desire to go to one of these functions was nonexistent. But I’d go to the ends of the Earth for Danika. I may have avoided her and been a tool the past few weeks, but that’s only because I hate seeing her and Gunner together. I’ve tried to push her from my mind, replace her with everyone I could sink my teeth in.

They always felt wrong.

Their hands don’t set my skin on fire. Their lips never tasted right. And when they’d reach for my cock, I’d pull away. Danika was the last girl to touch me. I don’t want anyone to erase what that felt like. But having someone, anyone, in my arms when the urge to hold Danika takes over is better than no one.

Danika leaves the safety of the rented ballroom and finds me outside, sitting on the railing that separates the beach from the hotel. I pull a cigarette from my shirt pocket and tuck it between my lips. I have no intention of lighting it but chewing on the filter helps silence the incessant chatter in my head.

“I was wondering when you’d get here.” Her tiny fingers grip the skirt of her dress so it doesn’t fly in the breeze. I wish it would. I’d love to see her perky ass. I’m sure my imagination isn’t doing it justice.

“Didn’t think you’d notice the way Gunner is all over you.”

Scratch that, I think I will light the damn thing. Thinking about Gunner with his hands roaming Danika’s backside, settling on that ass while she does nothing but shake her head and giggle, ignites my nerves into a flaming inferno.

I flick the spinner of my lighter and shield my cigarette with my free hand. When the cherry burns red, I inhale, letting the sting of smoke chip away at my soul. “Seems like you two are getting serious. He can’t keep his hands off you.”

“He’s been ridiculously clingy.” Danika rolls her lined eyes, butterfly lashes fluttering. “But I think I’m finally willing to admit there’s nothing between Gunner and me.”

“You thought there was?” I ask on an exhale, immediately taking another drag. The cigarette is helping. A drink would be better, but my flask is empty and beggars can’t be choosers.

“No, but I wanted there to be.”

“And why’s that?” I hold the smoke a little longer than usual. My lungs burn, begging me to give them clean air but I need the cloud in my chest to set fire to my feelings and make them go away. I had my chance, in the cafeteria once, and I blew it. Case and point by our lack of kiss today.

“Because I was using him to forget about you,” she half whispers.

What? I choke on the smoke in my lungs and release it with a coughing fit. My eyes water as I beat my fist against my chest. When my alveoli open again, Danika’s disappeared back into the ballroom.

I drop what’s left of my cigarette on the ground and head into the dance. I’ve never chased after a girl before—literally or metaphorically—so tonight is a night of firsts. But I’ve also never met someone who drives me crazy the way Danika does.