Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)(83)

“Shut the f*ck up.” His eyes flashed a warning. “I’m here. I’m sitting on a Goddamn roller coaster ride— one that I’m sure Dad would have a heart attack if he knew we were on.”

I laughed. “I don’t actually ride. I just come up here and sit. It’s peaceful.” It used to be peaceful. I remembered finding Taylor here, weeks ago. Alone. I could see her tears, hear the sadness in her voice. Dammit. I could smell her all over again. That damn vanilla scent.

“Are you done making me feel like a *?”

I looked at my brother and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” He rubbed his forehead. “Can we have this talk on the ground? Why’d you make me come up here?”

I shrugged. “This is my thinking spot.”

“You can think just fine down there.” He leaned forward to peek below us, then jerked back, cursing under his breath. “I love you, but right now some of that is fading—fast.” He made a circling motion. “Let’s get this conversation going. What’s going on with you?”

Well, there was no reason to beat around the bush. “I’m in love.”

Mason said nothing.

And nothing.

Still nothing.

I looked over and lifted an eyebrow. “You going to say something?”

He was watching me steadily, but there was no reaction on his face. I couldn’t read him. He moved his arm to rest on the back of our seat, lifted his hand, and smacked the back of my head. “You’re just now figuring this out?”

“Hey.” I shoved his arm off the back. “What was that for?” I scowled. “You knew?”

“Everyone knows.”

“Everyone?”

He nodded. “Me. Sam. Nate.”

“Nate did not know.”

“Why do you think he’s been an * to you? He knew before I did. He’s pissed because he’s losing his bar buddy.” Mason shifted to sit sideways, facing me. His arm rested on the back of the seat again, and he leaned forward. “You’ve not been yourself. You’re more serious. You don’t want to screw everything— except for the last month, but that’s because she sent you down the highway.”

“What highway?”

“The road.” He motioned ahead of us. “You know what I mean. She sent you packing.”

I shook my head. “You need better metaphors.”

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m not the funny one, remember? That’s your job.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware. I’m hilarious.”

Mason bit out a laugh. “You fell in love, Logan.”

I slumped down and cringed. Fucking hell. Love. “Love’s for pussies.”

He coughed.

I shot him a sideways look. “Yeah, you’re a *.”

His hand moved faster than I could react, and he slapped me on the back of the head again.

I groaned. I didn’t even argue.

“Look, I’ve not approved of your choices. Tate was a royal bitch.”

“She was a whore,” I added.

His head moved up and down. “Yeah, she was that, too, and Kris…” He shook his head. “She was too young. She had too many issues, and you—”

I looked out over the city as I said, “—didn’t love her.”

“Yeah. There’s that.”

He sighed.

I sighed.

This was a f*cking sigh-worthy event.

“I don’t want to be in love,” I announced.

“Well. You are so deal with it, or lose her. Those are your two options.” He turned to look out of the car with me. Only I wasn’t seeing the city laid out beneath us. I wasn’t seeing anything except Taylor, how she looked on that sidewalk. She’d been running, and I wanted to hurt her, like the dipshit I was. I wanted to hurt her, and she saw right through me.

“You’re sweet. You’re kind. You want to be loved.” I could hear her voice. She was so strong, so sure—like she had a secret no one else knew, one the entire universe wanted to know. “You want a girl who’ll hold your hand on top of a broken roller coaster. You want a partner in crime…”

And that girl I f*cked—I didn’t remember her name. She was forgotten as soon as I woke up, and if I passed her on the street, I wouldn’t recognize her. But she came forward to stake her claim, and Taylor stopped her.

There hadn’t even been a chance for a battle. “That’s not you,” Taylor had said. “That’s not the real you.”

“Fuck,” I muttered.

She’d touched me, and my hand moved there now, resting on my stomach. “I see you,” she’d said.

I groaned, closing my eyes. “What do I do?”

I felt my brother look at me, and he said, so simply, “You go get her.”





I HAD HIM


TAYLOR


King Cain Bowl had been partially renovated in the last few years, but as I entered the front lobby, I smelled the same musk that I remembered from childhood: thick, red shaggy carpet; the smell of old, worn shoes; the aroma of burnt popcorn; and teenage sweat. All of that hit me as I walked inside, and I was instantly comforted. Some things never changed.