Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)(30)

Nate cast Mason a look. He’d been quiet, observing the entire exchange.

“Nothing’s there,” I told them. “Yes, I want to bang her. She’s hot. But I don’t know.” I glanced at Sam. “She reminds me of you somehow. Maybe that’s it.”

She cocked her head to the side, growing thoughtful. “Because both our dads are football coaches?”

“No. I mean, yeah, but there’s something else—”

“There’s trauma there.” Mason stood and took his plate to the sink. He turned and rested his hands against the counter as he leaned his back on it. “His wife died a few weeks before Christmas break last year. Coach Bruce was a mess the rest of the year.”

“There was a thing at his house, right?” Sam asked. “We took food over there?”

He nodded. “I heard rumors, but I didn’t say anything because we were dealing with Sebastian then. It was all around the same time.”

“What do you mean he was a mess?” I moved my chair back from the table, folding my arms over my chest.

“He was always in the fieldhouse. I didn’t notice it much during off-season training, but I heard rumors. His wife didn’t die from cancer or anything medical.”

Sam inhaled softly. “Did she kill herself?”

A sick feeling started in me. I didn’t like my parents most days, but I loved them. If they ever took their lives—I locked gazes with my brother—that would gut me. How could a parent choose not to be there anymore? I thought about Sam. Her parents weren’t dead, but they’d left her. David, Garrett, Analise—all three of her parents had left her at one point or another. Shit, I guess our mom was half gone most of the time, but that was different. One phone call and she’d be here. She’d be annoying and acting all pretentious, but she’d be here. Sam didn’t have that, and go a step beyond that to where the mother actually offed herself?

Is that what had happened to Taylor? Did she see it?

It felt wrong to be talking about it. “Let’s shelve this, can we?”

Mason and Nate nodded.

“You like her?” Sam asked me.

My eyes went to hers. She wasn’t inferring anything like Nate had been, so I nodded. “Yeah. I like her.”

Resolve firmed her features. She nodded, and her eyes grew serious. “Then I will, too.” There was one last piece of omelet on her plate, and she speared it with her fork, eating it quickly. She gave me another small smile. “Sounds like she could use a few friends.”





MERLOT AVOIDANCE


TAYLOR


Monday morning I went to the registrar’s office and switched to a different session of Sociology 101. I felt ridiculous—switching a class because of a guy? I was that girl? But I had to face facts. Even if Logan and I were friends, as he’d said we were, I couldn’t be stupid. I was already damaged.

After changing my schedule, I went to my class. Mr. Fuller, Jeremy—I still didn’t know what to call him—asked me to wait after class and walk with him to Professor Gayle’s office. Maybe it was the empty feeling I got when my dad and I crossed paths during the weekend. We stopped and stared at each other. There’d been no easy words between us, or maybe it was even because I knew I wouldn’t be running into Logan anymore, but when he invited me again to the Honors Study Group that Thursday night, I said I’d go.

The small party was at Jeremy’s apartment. No professors would be there, but each student could bring a date. After he said the last part, he waited, and an awkward silence settled between us.

I frowned, but nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

“Great.” He smiled, but it seemed forced. “In case I don’t remember to give you the details during Wednesday’s class, here you go.” He scribbled directions to his apartment on a piece of paper. “Uh, just remember to let me know if you’re bringing a date. I need a head count for ordering food. Oh—” His smile softened. “And there’ll be wine, and I know some students aren’t twenty-one yet, so if you could keep quiet about the party…yeah…”

I pretended to zip my lips. “Consider the key thrown away. I won’t be narcing on an Honors Study Group party.”

“Great.” He pointed at a number on the piece of paper now in my hand. “You can buzz that apartment, but if it’s really loud—oh, hold on.” He took the paper back and wrote his phone number on it. “You can call me, too. I’ll keep my phone in my pocket. If I can’t hear it, I’ll still feel it vibrating, so no worries. People will probably be outside anyway, so the door will be open. You shouldn’t have a problem getting in.”

“Okay.” I tucked the piece of paper into my textbook. “I’ll see you Wednesday for class.”

“Yeah.” He followed me to the door. “And then Thursday for the party.”

I nodded. Yeah, the party.





The week was uneventful. I hated to admit it, but I missed the Loganisms. My new sociology class wasn’t fun. There were no comments about mindf*cking. No one made me feel awkward with sexual innuendos, or made me feel something I really shouldn’t be feeling yet. But that was why I switched. Logan was too much, too soon. And on Thursday night as I was headed to Jeremy’s apartment, I had a feeling I wouldn’t have that problem at this event.