It’s thwarted desire is what it is.
They checked into their separate rooms at opposite ends of the long, narrow building. Said vibrating bed had a woodsy vibe, and while she wouldn’t be making full use of its capabilities, she liked the look well enough.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, her heart thundering hard. She tried to push everything away except for the feeling. This feeling of wanting a man and not knowing if she could have him. This feeling of uncertainty. It was a new experience. It just cut deep. She lay back and looked up at the ceiling.
Logan Martin had liked her in high school. She wondered what past her would’ve thought of it.
The answer was quick and definitive. Past Samantha would have been afraid of him. She would have been afraid of what she might do with that handsome, dangerous-seeming boy. Ironic, considering Will had gotten her pregnant at eighteen. Logan would’ve probably gotten her pregnant at sixteen.
That made her laugh. Uncontrollably. Maybe she was hysterical. It was entirely possible. There was a lot to be hysterical about in this present moment. It was so strange, and she would’ve said it wasn’t her. Except it seemed to be.
She took a shower, even though she didn’t really need one, and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. She looked at her phone and saw that Logan had texted her.
Burgers?
Yes.
So maybe things were normal again.
But she didn’t think she wanted them to be.
She was tired of normal.
She wanted something extraordinary. Even if it was a mistake.
God help her, she was willing to make as big of a mistake as it took with him.
TWENTY-TWO
She didn’t bother to put any makeup on, and went outside, looking down the sidewalk, to see him standing outside his room door also. She waved, and immediately felt stupid. He did not wave back. But his lips did curve into a smile that she could see twenty doors down. He walked out toward the car, and when they got to it, he tossed her the keys.
She smiled and turned the key, noticing that the engine sounded different than the Ferrari. She was picking up all kinds of things about the cars.
“You do all of this by hand?” she asked.
“Yep,” he said. He put some directions into his phone, and they started off down the road toward Izzy’s Burger Spa.
“You must feel like they’re art projects,” she said, moving her fingertips over the steering wheel. All the cars had been great, but the Rolls was particularly ornate and glorious.
He looked at her like she was strange. “I wouldn’t say I think of them that way.”
“Well, there must be some emotion in it,” she said. “You put pieces of yourself in work like this. It’s like writing. Even my articles, it comes from me. That doesn’t necessarily make it emotional or anything, but it is a little bit of myself on the page every time. This is physical work. You got the blood, sweat and tears thing.”
“I guarantee you I have never shed a tear about a car.”
“You know what I mean.” She moved her hands idly up and down the steering wheel, stroking the glossy black. “It’s basically you.”
He looked at her, their eyes clashed, and suddenly the sexual nature of both the comment and the way she was touching the car hit her. She swallowed and looked away.
Thankfully, they were saved by their arrival at the restaurant. The seating was outside, ordering taking place at a little window in front of a small shack-looking building.
The smell of charcoal barbecue was strong, and it made her stomach growl.
She ordered a hamburger with extra avocado, and Logan got one with mushrooms. They sat down across from each other, and she dug ferociously into her fries as a distraction.
She really needed the distraction. Because she was just looking at him. Her stomach was all tight. As she had acknowledged, it wasn’t actually embarrassment. It was that she wanted him. Was it wrong that she wanted him and also didn’t necessarily want to concede to what he’d asked for? It wasn’t like she wanted to test him out to see.
She just didn’t want being with him to be about that. She wanted what they were to stand separate from the past, the baggage, their otherstuff, and maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe it wasn’t a realistic expectation. But she didn’t see why she should have to be the one to give everything. She wasn’t using him. She was not using him to have an experience. In that she was confident.
