Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits, #5)(95)

Logan puts his testing stuff back in his bag. “I don’t feel like you’re asking.”

“Since when do I ask for anything? Demanding is the only way to go. If you say it with a smile at least then people will feel good as they perform. Just saying, there’s a reason why Harvard loves me.”

Logan opens the top of the cage. “There’s a lot of people who love you and they’re waiting on us. If you’re bent on doing this, put Thumper away and let’s roll.”

*

Rachel and I twirl each other to the rhythm of the music and we both laugh. Heads back, eyes glittering, stomach aching from giggling too much. This is joy. Spending time with my best friend. Our laughter is never mean. Never at anyone else’s expense. It’s because we’re together, because we’re friends, because we’re alive.

She almost died a few months ago in a car accident and, recently, I was shot. We’ve both been given a second chance at life. Both been given this gift of friendship. We’re no longer capable of taking something like this for granted.

Near us, West is dancing with his girlfriend, Haley. The boy definitely has moves as he dances close to his girl. West is all over her and she doesn’t seem to mind. It’s obvious they missed each other after their week apart. It’s even more obvious they are in love.

At the other end of the sports bar, Logan and Isaiah are playing pool. Scratch that, they’re pretending to play pool as they watch the two of us. I blow a kiss in Logan’s direction and his lips tilt up. It’s impossible how much I love him. Impossible to almost believe I might make my dreams with him come true someday.

Rachel grabs my hand. “I’m thirsty.”

We head to the bar and she orders a bottled water, telling the bartender to put it on West’s tab. He declared he was buying tonight and I don’t argue with free cheese sticks.

“I’m still mad at you,” Rachel says as she wipes the sweat from dancing off her forehead. “I’m still mad at them, too. None of you should have frozen me out.”

“I was trying to freeze you all out,” I say as an explanation.

“Still not okay. Promise me you won’t do that again.”

Considering I don’t plan on getting shot again, I concede. “Promise.” I tug at a lock of her long blond hair. “Up for dancing some more?”

“I’m always up for dancing.”

I link my fingers with Rachel’s and we discover the middle of the dance floor again.





Logan

Abby’s on fire tonight. A living breathing fireworks show. She’s danced with Rachel, with West, has even dragged me out a couple times, but I can’t admit to doing much more than touching Abby’s hips as she moves to the music.

A song ends, another begins, but Abby leaves Rachel with Isaiah on the dance floor and she joins me at the pool table West, Haley, and I have been playing on.

Abby’s covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and in her typical fashion, she swipes my bottle of water and drinks it down. “What time is it?”

I check my cell. “Eleven thirty. Rachel has about ten minutes left before she has to leave to make curfew.”

Abby’s very protective of her best girlfriend, Rachel, and it’s been good to see the two of them reunited if only for a short period of time.

She sets the bottle of water down and laces her fingers with mine. “I’m about to be arrested.”

A surge of panic runs through me and I automatically scan the room searching for the cops. Abby reaches up, places her hand on my cheek and forces my gaze back to hers.

“It’s okay.”

I tighten my hold on her hand. “We can get you out of here.” And then my mind catches up like slamming brakes at a hundred miles per hour. “Why would you be arrested?”

Abby’s so damn cool that it’s causing my skin to want to peel off the bone.

“In my back pocket is a baggie of pot. Enough to cause me problems, but not enough to cause me big problems. Over there at the bar, there’s an undercover officer waiting for me. The big dude that people are scared of. I mean really? That’s the undercover person they go with? The one people are naturally terrified of? Maybe that’s what I should do with my life. Become a consultant on how to actually catch the bad guys. Anyhow, I digress.”

I glance over and Abby’s right. There’s a man there at the bar and nobody sits or stands within two feet of him. He’s big and he’s bald and he’s watching me and Abby.

“I will go over to buy another bottle of water. He’ll ask me if I’m drinking anything tonight. I’ll tell him no because I have something to smoke later. He asks if he can partake. I’ll say no. He’ll then ask if he can buy it from me and then I’ll say yes. He’ll put handcuffs on me, he’ll read me my rights, and then he’ll escort me to his lovely police car. After that, I will be arraigned and I will be put into juvenile detention. I will stay there. I will have my day in court and I will be sentenced to that juvenile detention center for a period of time.”

“Am I hearing this right?” West joins us and I’m guessing I’m looking just as pissed as he appears. “Place is loud, but I think I just heard you describe getting arrested.”

“You did,” Abby says with a brief shrug. “We will now go over a list of what you will not do. You will not stop me. You will not go anywhere near me once I head over to the bar.”