Reckless Longing, Page 2

  "Well, support person, welcome aboard," I said. "I'm Ellie. You should know my name, just in case you have to comfort me. FYI, I prefer personalized comfort phrases like 'Hang in there, Ellie.' And 'You can do it, Ellie.'"

  "Logan," he said. "In case you'd like to give me a personalized thank you, as in 'Thank you, Logan, for saving me from certain chickening out and regretting it my whole life.'"

  "That's more like a speech. I hope I can remember it without writing it down."

  He patted his pockets. "No paper on me. I'll refresh your memory when the time comes."

  I couldn't believe I was smiling again.

  We reached the door. A guy handed me a clipboard with a release form to fill out. It had a space for my address. I glanced over the shoulder of the girl in front of me. She hesitated at the address column, then wrote her school address in. I realized in an instant why—she didn't want her parents to be notified or find out.

  "Don't know your school address?" Logan said beside me, seeming way too interested in where I lived.

  I smiled and boldly filled in my home address. Let my mom find out. I wanted her to know and Logan to think I was mysterious. "I know it perfectly well."

  "Whoa. Bold move." Logan had been peering over my shoulder. "The parents aren't going to go ape shit?"

  "No," I said. "My mom's been wanting me to do this for a long time."

  He looked like he didn't quite believe me. "Then why haven't you?"

  "Because she wanted me to," I answered truthfully.

  He grinned wider. "Rebellious. Excellent! A girl after my own heart."

  I studied him. "Don't get along with your parents?"

  "Mom's okay. Dad's a bit of a bastard."

  "At least you have one," I said.

  A girl approached and took my clipboard. She looked it over and directed me to a cashier. I pulled twenty-five dollars out of my pocket and handed it over. The girl at the register handed me a receipt and directed me to a line.

  That was when it hit me that I was really doing this, thanks to Logan. That was also when I remembered my fear of needles and how petrified I was when I got my ears pierced. Of course, I'd been six. And I couldn't even see the piercing gun. But that quick zap of pain had been enough to give me nightmares for years.

  In high school, I'd heard my girlfriends' stories about getting bellybutton rings, but I'd never paid real attention to the details. Because, like I said, I don't like needles or shots, or any of that stuff. Now I was confronted with the evidence.

  We were in the ballroom. It was a big, open room with piercing stations set up throughout and lines before each. They pierced with precision, all right—assembly-line-like precision. As you stood in line waiting your turn, you could watch the current victim getting her piercing of choice.

  I'd always thought I'd get to lie down on a table and look away while I tried not to think about that big-ass needle. Tried not to get even a glimpse of it. But that was not the case here. You had to stand and hold up your shirt while they worked. There wasn't a girl in line who didn't look scared. And the looks on the faces of the girls who were being worked on? Petrified.

  Suddenly Bre's suggestion was looking a whole lot better and much saner. Screw the twenty-five dollars. I'd rather lose it than my lunch in front of Logan and everyone. I felt pale and cold.

  Logan slid his warm arm around my shoulder. "Hey," he whispered in my ear. "They all look scared at first. Watch how thrilled they are when it's done."

  "I hate needles." It was a bare whisper. As soon as I spoke I wished I could take it back. I sounded so pathetic.

  "I'll be right here with you." He squeezed my shoulder. "Holding your hand."

  Something about his voice was soothing and reassuring. He was so confident. And the thought of holding his hand…

  That was dangerous territory. But at the same time, I didn't want to look like a coward in front of him. Or like he'd wasted his time trying to be nice to me. I wasn't going to make him a failure, too.

  I nodded. "Hold on tightly. And don't let go."

  "Never."

  "Next!"

  "You're up." Logan smiled at me, walking with me to the piercing station.

  "What are we doing today?" the piercing guy asked as he read my paperwork.

  "Bellybutton."

  He nodded. "Good. Looks like you went for the jeweled stud."

  I nodded.

  "Stand right there." The piercing guy was friendly and reassuring in his own way. He grabbed a pen. "Pull up your shirt."

  I looked at Logan. He nodded and smiled at me. I took a deep breath and pulled my crop top up a little higher, holding it just beneath my breasts.

  The piercing guy stared at my abs, eyeing my stomach. "Hold still. I'm going to clean the area and mark where it should go. We don't want you crooked." When he was done, he reached for a pair of clamps that looked like a pair of scissors.

  The sight of that clamp made me lightheaded, and I hadn't even seen the needle yet. I reached out my hand for Logan's.

  He held his icepack in one hand against his side. But the hand he took mine in was warm and strong. His grip firm, but tender. "Just look at me. Eyes on mine." He was smiling and his gaze was mesmerizing, even one-eyed. The other eye looked awful—black and red and swollen shut.

  He was so adorable and pathetic and brave. I bit my lip and stared into his deep brown good eye, thinking it was the most beautiful eye I'd ever seen, full of confidence and encouragement.

  "There will be a pinch and then a quick stab of pain as I put the bar in," the piercing guy said. "Breathe in."

  I took a deep breath and held Logan's gaze. I felt the pinch of the clamps. I gasped at the quick rush of pain that followed, trying not to imagine the needle going in.

  "You're doing great." Logan squeezed my hand.

  I forced a shaky smile and squeezed back, hanging on like my life depended on it.

  "The bar's in," the piercing guy said. "I'll follow it with your ring. How are you doing?"

  "Good." It came out a squeak.

  Logan laughed. "She's doing awesome. Hang in there, El."

  "Just keep looking at your boyfriend."

  Boyfriend?

  "Hang on to that one," the piercing guy said. "He's the first guy who's come in all night."

  I opened my mouth to correct him.

  Logan shook his head, silencing me. "She's damn lucky. But so am I. This shiner didn't turn her off."

  "Okay. The ring's in. Now I just have to screw on the stud and you can look."

  I felt a little tugging.

  "All done."

  I looked down and couldn't help smiling. "It's awesome." Spellbound by it, I let go of my crop top and made a move to touch it and make sure it was real.

  "No! Don't touch it." The piercing guy shook his head.

  I stopped mid-reach.

  "You don't want to infect it." The piercing guy swabbed it again with cleaner.

  I looked at Logan again.

  "Gorgeous." His gaze was locked on mine, not my abs.

  I went warm all over.

  The piercing guy handed me a little bottle of cleaning solution and a page of instructions and I was done. And still clutching Logan's hand so hard it was turning white. Embarrassed, I tried to let go.

  He shook his head and held on tightly. "Come on. There's a mirror over there. You'll want a look."

  We walked to it hand in hand. In front of the mirror, I reluctantly let go of his hand and he let me. Framing my bellybutton on either side with my hands, like I was embracing a tenuous new life, I cautiously looked in the mirror. When I saw my reflection, I couldn't stop smiling.

  "Thank you, Logan, for saving me from certain chickening out and regretting it my whole life." I turned to inspect my bellybutton jewel from another angle.

  "Good memory," he said. "You were paying attention."

  "And for letting me crush your fingers until they turned purple because I was so scared."

  He smiled and fle
xed his fingers. "You're not as strong as you think. My hand's fine." He his hand up and made a funny grabbing gesture. "See? It still works."

  I laughed. "Seriously. I couldn't have done it without you."

  He offered me his icepack.

  I shook my head. "Thanks. But I don't need it. It doesn't hurt." I looked at him. His right eye was completely swollen shut. I took the icepack from him and gently applied it to his eye. I was so gentle that he only winced a little. "Your eye looks awful. Time for ice on." I smiled. "This will be an evening to remember."

  He took the icepack from me and grabbed my hand. "Let's get out of here." He pulled me into the hall toward the stairs, past the dwindling line of girls waiting for their turns.

  "Walker! Hey! Wait up."

  It took me a second to realize someone was calling to Logan. He hesitated as a group of three boisterous guys approached us.

  "Where have you been? Why didn't you text us back? We've been looking all over for you," the tallest of them said.

  "Some thanks. We leave to get the invalid something to drink and you ditch us while we're gone," the blond one said. "This is getting warm." He shoved a can of energy drink at Logan.

  Logan had to drop my hand to take it.

  The three of them stared at me as I realized Logan had lied about being ditched by his friends. I couldn't decide if that was sweet or diabolical.

  "What happened to your sorority babes?" I asked, ribbing Logan.

  The guys looked puzzled. "What babes?"

  I had Logan's number and he knew it.

  "Guys, this is Ellie." Logan didn't seem embarrassed at all.

  "Nice to meet all of you." My heart was pounding. I felt suddenly anxious. Things were moving too fast. Everything had been so perfect. At the same time, I didn't want it to end and I couldn't face the rest of the evening with his friends.

  I went up on my toes and kissed Logan's cheek. "Thanks for everything, Logan Walker. Really. First week of college. I won't ever forget it." I gyrated my hips and flashed my new bellybutton stud.

  While Logan was distracted, I waved to the guys and darted down the steps, melding into the crowd.

  "Ellie!" Logan called after me. "Ellie! What's your last name?"

  Chapter Two

  My heart was still pounding when I reached my dorm room and shut myself in. It was stuffy and hot. The windows were already open and music from the mall boomed in, but the dorm itself was relatively quiet. Bre was still out. I texted her that I was tired and had gone back to our room. I turned on a fan and sat in the dark in front of it on my bed.

  What had just happened out there? For the first time in nearly three months I felt something besides anger and hurt. I felt something almost magical and romantic for a guy with a black eye, and I was scared.

  In some stupid, crazy way it was almost like I was being unfaithful to Austin. But wasn't he the one who had cheated in the most horrible way possible? Irrationally, it didn't matter. Feeling a spark with someone else felt like it invalidated what I'd felt for Austin, which had sure felt like true love.

  I took a deep breath.

  Logan Walker. I turned the name around in my head, viewing it from all angles.

  In retrospect, his friends couldn't have shown up at a more opportune moment, and meeting Logan couldn't have happened at a worse one. It was better if I never saw him again. I remembered the first time I met Austin and how sweet he'd been, too. I didn't want this memory tainted by finding out just what kind of a jerk Logan Walker might really be. Besides, I was here for a reason and it didn't involve falling in love again.

  I felt a stab of anxiety. My heart pounded out of control. No. I shouldn't worry about it. Logan didn't have my last name. He didn't know where I lived. He didn't have my number. And in a school of over twenty thousand students, what were the odds we'd randomly run into each other again?

  A key rattled in the lock of our door. Our dorm was ancient and everything rattled, creaked, or wheezed. Bre stumbled in.

  "You're home early," I said. "Get tired of Dan and Jake already?"

  "Geez!" Bre flipped a light on and put a hand over her heart. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

  "Recuperating." I lifted up my crop top and showed her my bellybutton."

  "You got in?"

  "Naturally."

  She walked over and examined my stomach. "Nice."

  I nodded.

  "I should be furious at you for ditching me." She plopped on her bed, which was perpendicular with mine.

  "Jake and I weren't hitting it off. It was better to set him free and do what I wanted to do." I paused. "What's your story?"

  "The guys wanted to play pool. I watched for a while and then I bailed."

  I grinned, thinking involuntarily of Logan. "Wise choice. Pool can be dangerous."

  Bre looked at me like I was crazy. "What have you been smoking?"

  "Nothing."

  "What's this craziness about pool being dangerous as if it's an extreme sport, then? And why do you look like you're hiding something?"

  "I'm not hiding anything but smugness," I said, trying to sound teasing. "I was right about the piercing." It was enough to throw her off the scent. I was intent on keeping Logan's memory to myself.

  She shook her head like she was disgusted, then broke into a smile. "The boys want to meet up at the convocation tomorrow."

  I was going to the convocation for one reason. And it had nothing to do with boys. Not that way.

  Convocation is university-speak for a meeting. I quickly learned that people in academia like using big words for simple things. They love obfuscating the message. See? I know an SAT word or two, too. It was my theory that it made the people in charge feel just a little bit superior and brainier than everyone else. After all, while most of them had more degrees than the rank and file undergrad, there was no evidence they had higher IQs.

  The Week of Welcome, WoW!, convocation was for incoming freshman and transfer students and parents if they wanted to attend. Mercifully, there were no parents in the group of us who tromped through the heat from our all-girl dorm to the performing arts center on the other end of campus. I'd had one year of college at a local school in Seattle, making me a transfer student. Because I'd gone to summer school and taken some college credits in high school, I had enough credits to make me a junior. Which allowed me to get my job with the university, the job that was a big part of the reason I was here.

  My heart pounded as we entered the air-conditioned comfort of the performing arts building. Irrationally, I looked around for Logan, even knowing he was way too familiar with campus to be either a freshman or a transfer. And the odds he was helping out with this event were practically nil. Funny how I knew so much about him. And so little at the same time. As hard as I tried to tamp the feeling down, I wanted to see his smile and that twinkling good eye of his.

  Bre was texting Dan the minute we entered the building. The stadium seated something like twelve thousand. Half of the people already there were waving and looking for someone who was just coming in. From a distance, many of the guys looked alike. I didn't give Bre great odds she'd find Dan. I would have lost that bet. Somehow she spotted him. The girl had eagle eyes when it came to guy she was interested in. It's a useful skill, I guess. Maybe I'd make her teach it to me. Or maybe I already had it. I just didn't want to admit it.

  "Come on! There he is." Bre bounced on her toes as she waved to Dan.

  I looked at Nicole and Taylor, my two other new best friends from the dorm, for confirmation we should play tagalong. The looks on their faces were clear—they weren't thrilled with the idea of sitting with Bre's prey and watching her circle for the kill. Or look like a fool trying. The guys around Dan, including the redheaded Jake, didn't look particularly promising to me. But then, no one looked promising after meeting Logan. Besides, I had that bruised heart. It took a megawatt of shining personality and totally hot looks to jolt it into getting excited a
nd actually feeling something.

  "You don't need wingmen for this operation, soldier," Nicole said, taking my arm and pointing to a trio of open seats. "Go to it, girl." She gave Bre a little shove with her free hand.

  Bre hesitated. "But—"

  Nicole made a shooing motion.

  "I can't go down there alone." Bre turned to me.

  My defensive reflexes weren't what they used to be. She grabbed my arm before I could move out of the way. "I promised Jake you'd be there."

  Her voice was plaintive and scared and I was the biggest sucker in the world. The three of us trooped after her. Bre slid in next to Dan. I had to sit next to Jake. Nicole and Taylor sat on the end.

  "So we meet again," I said to Jake, using my friendly tone.

  He scowled back. "You ditched me for a bellybutton ring." He sounded like a petulant man-child.

  The bellybutton ring hurt when I sat. There was no way I'd be doing crunches for a while, either. I was too supremely aware of the bar through my navel. But it had been totally worth it on so many levels. I had no regrets. Not one. Not even when Jake gave me the cold shoulder.

  I shrugged off his pettiness and made a face at Nicole and Taylor, looking for sympathy for having to put up with the jerk Jake. They rolled their eyes and smiled back.

  Nicole leaned into me and whispered. "We'll ditch him on the way out. No way we're letting him ruin the barbecue."

  I sat through the university president's welcoming speech with my mind wandering, my heart racing, and my palms sweating. I'd only come to the convocation because of the faint hope that he might be here and I'd get a non-personal look at him from afar. The all-campus barbecue afterward was my real objective. More speeches by various university officials. Some rah-rah pep talks. The band played. We sang the fight song. Class was dismissed.

  As we wound out of the performing arts stadium toward the track and the barbecue, we were each handed a pin with the university logo and the current year, our year of admission, on it. I pinned mine to my thin summer top so I wouldn't lose it. This year was going to be momentous for me one way or another and I wanted a souvenir.