Logan reached over for his own drink, wrapping both hands around it to absorb the warmth. “So what is your thing?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” Developing feelings for hot guys I have no chance with? “Often I feel like I won’t figure it out unless I break out of my comfort zone, but I don’t know how to do that. What does that even mean? Should I suddenly start going out and humping men I meet in bars? Get a new hairstyle? New clothes?” I shrugged again as I trailed off, my cheeks warming as I realised how much I’d given away about myself. The truth was, I was happy with my life most of the time, but when I’d thought about where I’d got to, reality slipped out of my mouth at the reminder of how lost I felt sometimes. It’s strange – people spend their whole childhood wishing to be an adult, but when they get there, it’s not quite what they expected.
“I hear you.” Logan released his cup with one hand and reached over to me, his fingers lightly brushing over mine before he gently squeezed my hand. “We’re probably a bit too young to worry so much, but the future is scary. I know people in their mid-thirties who are still trying to figure out who they are and what they want.”
With his fingers still closed around mine, what I wanted had never been clearer. I wanted this. I wanted lying beside each other on a bed, talking, listening, understanding. I wanted his hand in mine. To be closer, to touch, to kiss. To have him look at me the way I was sure I looked at him when I allowed myself to forget to be so scared.
He’d reached for me. He’d never done that before.
It’s nothing. He’s being kind, nothing more.
Present
I sigh, remembering that moment in the bedroom when I felt so at ease, yet so anxious about whether Logan felt the way I did. I’ve gotten lost in the memory. Lying beside him on the bed has become my “happy place” – the place my mind drifts to when day to day stuff gets too much, or too boring.
Or whenever I have five minutes to myself.
“Isn’t it weird how you’ve known each other all this time, and this was the first time you talked about anything non-superficial?” Lydia tilts her head to one side.
“I think the lack of things to do and the dark, gloomy atmosphere had something to do with it.”
She’s right, though. Logan and I had never really dipped into the serious side of life in our conversations before. Mostly, we’d kept things light. Maybe because we’d never spent long enough together to discuss the downsides of adult life.
“That’s what you wanted though, right?” Lydia asks. “To get to know him and find out if you have anything in common?”
“Yes, but… it’s not like I didn’t already know we have some things in common. I couldn’t have liked him for so long based on only physical attraction. It’s the little things I wanted to learn. If he has any annoying habits, or if, when we we’d both let our guards down, he’d be different. You know? To find out if he’s secretly an asshole who hides behind good looks and banter.”
“And what did you find out?”
I smile. “He’s everything I thought he was. Kind, funny, considerate. Hot as fuck.”
Lydia rolls her eyes, but lets out a laugh. “You’ve got it worse than ever. I thought your crush on him couldn’t get any stronger, but look at you! Your eyes are all distant and dreamy. You used to look at pictures of JLS with that expression.”
The reminder of my former boy band obsession makes me chuckle. Honestly, how I’d felt for Logan really wasn’t that dissimilar to how I’d felt about JLS. My feelings for him always seemed as unreachable, as impossible. Like I’d been staring at him through a TV screen, unable to get through the barrier. Knowing there were so many other girls who wanted him. Knowing I was just a face in the crowd.
But sometimes, dreams turn into reality. Sometimes that face in the crowd, your face, is the one he sees. The one he chooses, however unrealistic it seems.
“The weirdest part for me is how it felt okay to be with him in that room, virtually nude,” I say, and I laugh again as I think about it. “I mean, I’d have felt weird if I’d been there with you, who I’ve known my whole life.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want to see me with my kit off. With Logan…”
“That’s not even the point. It’s about a level of trust. I should trust you more than him since I’ve known you longer. It seems to me I should have been less concerned about accidentally flashing my vajayjay at you than him. Not that I was planning to flash at him, and I probably would have died of shame if that had happened but, I just felt at ease with him.”
She nods. “That’s a good sign. But you still haven’t told me if you bought budget knickers!”
“I’m getting to it!” I take a sip of my drink, then lick my lips to draw the moment out, as if I was about to reveal something of enormous importance rather than where we got our clothes from. “Yes. I bought budget knickers. And socks. And jeans and t-shirts. Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t spend a fortune in that shop. I nearly died when we reached the checkout!”
Lydia threw her head back. “Ha! And there you were trying to prove to Logan you’re not a chav!”
“I know. Didn’t go so well. But the point was, we got clean, dry clothes to wear.”
“So… did he see your underwear?” She winked, smirking.
“Sure he did. He was behind me in the queue to pay.”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
I wink back at her.
The Relaxation Stage aka Can I Lay By Your Side?
The seriousness of our earlier conversation soon passed when we’d got our clothes back, all warm, dry and clean. It was a relief in a way, to stop myself doing the things I’d promised not to do: second guessing his every word and move, and wondering “what if?” The storm was still raging outside, although the rain had eased up slightly. After an appallingly long wait, we managed to find a taxi to get us to the city’s shopping mall so we could buy the things we needed. There’s a lot of fun to be had in the aisles of clothes shops, including an impromptu game of hide ‘n’ seek, much to the irritation of the already busy salespeople.
I never said I was mature.
“Logan, where are you?”
I spun around in a circle, surrounded by racks of coats. A second ago he’d been beside me, pretending to help me choose a jacket to buy. I say “pretending” because he had that bored expression all guys have when women drag them shopping. But he tried. Briefly.
“If I tell you, that’ll ruin the game!”
He is loathsome.
Part of me – the grown-up part – wanted to tell him to stop dicking around so we could pay, but the rest of me was giddy with glee at being so openly ridiculous in public with him. It was like the most childish form of foreplay. At least, that’s what it was in my head.
“Logan, seriously,” I moaned, but it came out as more of a laugh.
I took a few steps forward, peering over the clothing rails.
“Nope. You’re getting colder.”
His voice was fairly loud. How cold could I be?
Turning, I walked back in the other direction, pacing towards the end of the aisle.
“Ooh, that’s it, right there.”
This time there was no disguising my laughter. “You sound like you’re starring in a porno.”
“Nah, they’re much kinkier than that. Keep walking. You’re really close.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to contain my laughter and keep my butterflies in check. With him speaking that way, I was about ready to pounce on him, and I bit my lip, reminding myself to stay calm and not get carried away with these little flirtations.
Oh, fuck off. I told my inner demon. Just chill and enjoy it!