Chapter 19

Emily

It's the last Friday of June. Do you know what that means? No, it's not Frisky Friday. It's Josh's Team-Building night of the month.

What does that even mean? I know, I know. It's as bad as it sounds. He basically forces us to sacrifice our Friday night to sit together and bond. Cringe, right?

I mean, sure, watching Melanie get super drunk and confess her undying love to Josh while Adam is silently sending daggers into her back might be entertaining. But with Logan here, it's completely different.

It's his first Frisky-Friday-a-la-Libanaise, so everyone's giving him extra attention. Sabine literally sang him a song. Melanie is using fake pink hair extensions to braid his hair. It's bad. The situation is bad and I'm annoyed.

I'm annoyed for so many reasons, Logan being the first and main one, of course. After our conversation last week in my office, he's been avoiding me too. Which is fair, if you think about it. I started this entire thing. So I shouldn't be annoyed or hurt, or any of these weird mushy feelings that I'm going through.

But Goddamn it, it's easier said than done. I can't stop the freaking tightness in my stomach every time I see him. I hate to admit it, but I kind of miss him. No one makes me laugh as he does.

And he's been hanging out with Sabine and Melanie all the time and I see the way they're having so much fun. Like, water-fights-in-the-office-fun. Am I jealous? Absolutely freaking not.

Okay, maybe a little bit. I know, I know that I have literally no freaking right because I'm the one who pushed him away in the first place. But this is what I do: I push people away first so that it doesn't hurt when they do. Because they will. Because everyone leaves. It's just a matter of when.

"Oh my God. I can literally hear your mind racing with thoughts," Adam's voice shakes me out of my mind.

I give him a small smile. "At least Melanie's affection is channeled into Logan this year, so you don't have to deal with the Mel-Josh-motion-sickness."

He smirks before eyeing Josh. My heart squeezes in my chest. I want someone who looks at me like Adam looks at Josh when Josh is not looking. I want this kind of love, Goddamn it. It's so pure, so true. It's beautiful.

He smiles back at me. "You doing okay?"

I nod.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on between you two?" He points out towards Logan.

I shrug.

"Em, you two haven't said a word to each other in two weeks. I'm not an idiot."

I let out a long exhale. "Nothing. There's nothing going on."

"You know, Em, just because people are temporary doesn't mean we can't enjoy them. Remember, everything is temporary."

"That's not what I'm doing," I almost immediately say.

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Really? That's not your way of pushing him away because he's leaving anyway and you don't want to get attached?"

Yes. That's exactly it. "No. Absolutely not. We just have nothing in common."

He suppresses a smile. "Okay, whatever you say. Anyway, I'm going to get some of the vinyl records from the basement."

Oh my God, I'll literally do anything to get out of here. "I'll do it," I volunteer before running back inside. I can't stand to look at Melanie and Logan anymore. It makes my stomach sick.

And Melanie is my friend. God, I'm such a horrible human being. It's unreal. Just the thought of her liking him makes me want to puke. I should just stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about everything because it's making me crazy.

I make sure to block the basement door from closing by placing a book. This door only opens from the outside, so I'm pretty much screwed if I get locked inside.

We need to get this door fixed as soon as possible and I've been putting it off for the past couple of weeks just because I can't stand working with mechanics. They are always late, keep postponing, and make a mess of things... ugh. Just thinking about it brings me anxiety.

I try to turn the light on but it looks like the bulb isn't working. Great, another task to add to the to-do list. I use my phone's flashlight instead.

I walk towards the bunch of Vinyl records placed inside of the drawers. Adam and I began collecting them when I was fifteen. Literally, every record has a story.

The "Oasis" one was during my teenage-emo-phase. Adam was trying to pretend that he was into the same shit just to be a cool dad. I smile, thinking about the horrible things that I made him do.

I place the record back, trying to look for something more cheerful. Eagle-Eye is kind of a vibe. Before I could reach for the second shelf, I hear the slam of the door. "Fuck! Who the fuck closed the door? It won't open anymore!" I shout, walking back up.

I'm literally going to fuck up whoever did this. Probably Sabine-

Logan. Of course. Why am I surprised?

He gulps and stares back at the door. "What? It doesn't open from the inside?"

With his hair half-braided with fucking pink extensions, it's really hard to take him seriously. What's even harder is understanding how the fuck are those pink braids making him look more attractive. It's beyond me.

"No," I sigh, turning back to the vinyl. The tightness in my stomach returns just at our proximity. This is the first conversation we've had in weeks and we sound like strangers. He sounds like a stranger like he put his guards up because I've already hurt him so many times. And he's right, this is what he should do.

"We'll just call someone."

"Good luck finding some cell service in the basement."

I realize that I might have sounded too harsh when he flinches. "I'm sorry, I'm just stressed," I mumble. Stressed about you being near. About us being alone in the dark where no one can hear us.

He doesn't say anything back. He just presses himself against the wall.

"Adam knows I'm here. He'll end up noticing that I've been gone for a while," I mutter, trying to break the awkward silence.

He shrugs. "Yeah, he knows I'm here too. He asked me to get the vinyl records."

I gulp. Of course. This is such an Adam-thing-to-do. I'm going to kill him. Knowing him, he'll probably leave us here for a couple of hours. At least until he's sure that we've figured things out.

I look at the ceiling to the walls, trying to think of a way out. Maybe I could remove the air conditioning package on the ceiling -

"For Fuck's sake, you can't even stand being stuck here with me for like, ten minutes until Adam notices we're gone?"

I'm taken back for a second. I gulp when my eyes meet his, just because they look so green and he looks hurt and it makes my stomach sink.

I sigh, leaning back against the wall. "I don't think Adam's coming any time soon."

He furrows his eyebrows, so I add, "He wanted us to get stuck here together so that we talk."

His lips form an "O" before a flicker of hesitance flashes through his face. That's what I like about him: He's an open book. I can literally read his emotions and it makes me feel safe, knowing that he doesn't know how to hide his feelings.

Now, he's also looking at the air-conditioning package on the ceiling. "You think we can remove it?"

I nod. "I can fit in there. I'll use my bobby pin to remove it. I just need help climbing up."

"I'll carry you."

My heart squeezes in my chest but I don't object. He walks towards me before leaning down to grab my legs. My body is on fire at our contact, our proximity. The memories of that night come rushing back in. Him, caging me between his body and the wall. His breath on my ear, on my neck, on my jaw. My hands in hair - My eyes meet his and I know he's thinking about it too - us.

Fuck my life.

I breathe out, "Wait. Let me try climbing on your back instead."

He nods, looking as breathless as I feel.

At least if I climb on his back, I don't have to see or feel his face. It's easier to pretend that he's someone else. So I do, but the butterflies don't fade away. Especially when I'm literally sitting on his shoulders.

"If you drop me, I'll cut your legs off and sell them on the black market to pay off my mortgage."

"Gee, thanks for making this less stressful."

I bite back a comment as I focus on using my bobby pin to unlock the package. It's already starting to twist but Logan keeps moving. "Can you stop fidgeting?"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

The first nail is out. Three more to go. I can do this, I just have to focus on twisting the nail rather than the fire in my body.

And I do - I manage to take them out but I don't expect the package to be so heavy. Logan almost loses his balance when I grab it and I literally scream.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just heavy!"

"I know, I'm carrying it!"

"And I'm carrying you! Just throw it somewhere!"

"Throw it somewhere? Where?"

"I don't know Em, the floor, for Fuck's sake, anywhere, just drop it."

Oh fuck. This is a joke. I close my eyes and force myself to throw it onto the stairs because at least nothing will be damaged if it just hits the stairs.

Once I do, Logan loses his balance and I close my eyes, anticipating the crash between my body and the floor. But it never comes. Instead, I'm in his arms and his face is inches away and we're breathing the same breath.

My body burns at the contact of our skin, at our proximity, at us. It burns for the touch of our eyes, our breaths, us.

And as he stares back at me, I see the fear, the lust, the tornado of emotions hitting him too. And I want to so bad - to press my lips against his and get it over with the sexual tension. I want to so fucking bad.

"I guess my legs are going to the black market, then."

My lips twitch upwards. Only he can make me smile while I feel my insides soaring at me like dinosaurs.

As we pull away, we're both kind of breathless for a second. Maybe because I'm sick of being mad at him for no reason. Maybe because he's sick of giving me the silent treatment back. Maybe because I miss fighting with him. Maybe because he misses driving me crazy.

And at this moment, it hits me how much I actually missed him and that those two weeks were the most miserable I've been in a while. That although my life is chaos, he somehow made it better - he made it more enjoyable. The realization scares the living shit out of me but he holds out his hand. "Truce?"

And I find myself nodding. I find myself resisting every inch of my body yelling at me to run away, pack my bags, move to another freaking planet. I find myself leaning in and shaking his hand. "Truce."