The Fragile Line: Part One (The Fine Line #2) (2 page)

Present Day

As much as I tried to block it from my memory, that night had replayed in my mind a million times already, and relief overcame me when Gavin’s loud voice distracted my thoughts.  

“Dude! I.  Don’t.  Know.  Where.  She.  Is,” he said into his phone, irritated.  “I don’t know. Try Mel.”  He looked at me and rolled his eyes.  “Well, then try Isaac, dumbass!  She hasn’t been here, I haven’t heard from her, and I don’t know where she is.  I don’t know what else to tell you.”  He listened for a few seconds.  “Yeah, I’ll let you know if I hear from her.”

He ended the call and threw his phone onto the coffee table.  “Jesus!”  Looking back at me, he grinned, then brought his face close to mine, intending to continue whatever it was we were doing. 

I avoided contact by leaning back.  I was pretty sure I knew who was on the other end of the phone line, and I wanted information a helluva lot more than I wanted to resume my make out session with Gavin.  “Who was that?”

“Does it matter?”  He flirted with a smile, leaning in.

Placing my hands on his chest, I nudged him away from me.  “Yeah.  Who was it?”

With irritation, he rested his back on the couch.  “Logan.  He’s looking for Liv.  Apparently, he told her to fuck off, and now he’s freaking out about it.”  He waved both hands in the air as he said it, simulating a freak-out, then he started waving his pointer finger at me like he was teaching me a lesson.  “Those two need to get their shit together.  They just need get the fuck together and get married and make babies and all that shit so the rest of us can get on with our lives.” 

He told her he didn’t want her?
  That meant he had doubts about her.  This was a golden opportunity to make him realize how good
we
are together.  Make him realize how amazing it is to have a relationship with no strings.  Like the one we had together.  I just had to get to
him
before he got to
her
. 

“I’m tired. I’m gonna go home.”  I stood up and walked away, grabbing my keys off the bar just before running up the stairs and out the door. 

I heard Gavin call after me, but I couldn’t make out what he said.  Probably because I didn’t care.  My mind became focused on my next play, which had nothing to do with going home and everything to do with heading to Logan’s apartment.

CHAPTER THREE

~ Chloe ~

Present Day

The lot at Tanner Automotive was empty.  Except for Logan’s Mustang.  I had only been to his apartment one other time, yet the nostalgia of being here made me giddy.  I told myself to stay in control because this might be my last chance for him to see what we had together.  I didn’t want to blow it by losing my cool. 

I knocked on the aluminum door on the side of the building and waited.  After a few moments with no answer, I rang the buzzer.  Again, he didn’t come to the door.  I tried turning the knob, and to my surprise, it opened. 

Cautiously, I entered the hallway.  A dim yellow light illuminated the empty space.  “Hello?  Logan?”

Still no response.  I gently closed the door behind me and walked up the stairs to his apartment.  My footsteps clinked on the metal stairs as I walked up, and the muffled sound of blues music grew louder as I approached the door.  Like before, knocking yielded no outcome.  And like before, turning the handle did.

“Logan?  Are you here?”  My voice strained over the guitar and percussion that resonated from the speakers in the living room.  The lights were on, but Logan was nowhere in sight.  Without many places to look in this small space, I assumed he had to be in his bedroom.  After shutting the apartment door, that’s where I headed. 

And that’s exactly where I found him, asleep on his side, wearing only boxer briefs, his breaths heavy and even.  The smell of whiskey drenched the air, and an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's laid tipped on its side on the night table.  The room was dark, except the light shining in from the hallway.  I sat down on the side of his bed and placed my hand on his arm. 

“Logan, wake up.  I’m here.”  I gently shook him, hoping to wake him peacefully, but failed to wake him at all.  I shook again, slightly harder, my voice louder. “Wake up.  It’s me, Chloe.”  

“Mmm-ooked-aryaire-frou,” he groaned as he moved onto his stomach, arms and legs sprawling out.  

“What?” I leaned into him, bringing my ear closer.  “What did you say?”

He moaned again, “Looked-everywhere-frou.” 

His heavy breaths became louder and deeper.  The whiskey smell intensified with each exhale.  I uselessly tried shaking him again and finally realized it was pointless.  He’d be out for a while.   

My fingers grazed his smooth, warm back.  He’d have a hell of a hangover in the morning.  Someone would need to take care of him.  Maybe that someone could be me.  If I could show him how good I am for him, he’d come around.  He had to. 

I made my way back to the living room to turn the music and lights off.  On my way back to his room, I found a black t-shirt bunched up on the hallway floor.  I picked it up and held it by its shoulders.  A white painted silhouette of a man in a fedora donned the front of the shirt with the words, "Jamie N Commons" under it.  It was from a show in Chicago a year ago.  Before he met
her.
  When I caught word that he was going, I made sure to be there.  It’s a good thing I did, too, because after a year of hanging out in the same circles, the night ended up being our first intimate time together.

My intent was to fold the cotton shirt and set it down on his dresser, but the smell of sweat, metal, and aftershave caught me so intensely that I brought it to my face like some kind of psycho stalker.  I knew how weird it was to do something like that, but I didn’t care because it smelled like him.  The intoxicating scent instantly flashed me back to all the moments we had spent together.  I ached to slip it on, as if wearing it would somehow bring me closer to him. 

So, I did.  And I put my jeans and sweater on his dresser top instead.  A little indulgence never hurt anyone. 

I pondered sleeping on the couch, but the thought of being near Logan—feeling his touch, his warmth—was too great.  I needed to be near him.  Needed to feel him.  And maybe if he felt me and remembered exactly what I could give him, he’d quit pretending that he needed anything different.

After covering him with his bed sheet, I slipped under it.  The movement of me on the bed must’ve woken him slightly because he reached for me and pulled me closer. 

I knew it.  Even if only on a subconscious level, he evidently couldn’t resist the absolute comfort we gave to each other.  Then, his voice whispered the most beautiful words.  The words came out muffled, but to me they couldn’t have been more articulate. 

“I’m so sorry.”

CHAPTER FOUR

~Chloe~

Present Day

I didn’t get much sleep. The last thing I wanted was to miss it if he woke up and said something else.  Logan hadn’t moved all night and neither had I.  I relished in his embrace for hours and never wanted it to end.

As the time passed, night changed to a blue winter dawn and gradually evolved into a bright morning sky.  The sun rose up into the bedroom window’s view, causing me to squint and bury my face into his arm.  The movement woke him, and as he stirred, I took a deep breath, hoping this would all work out in my favor.  In
our
favor.

“You came back,” he mumbled, his voice deep and gravelly.  Drawing me closer, he kissed the back of my head.  “God, I love you.  I’m so sorry.”

A thousand pounds lifted from my body.  He felt it.  Our bond.  We were the same.  Two people made for each other, genuinely accepting of each other’s extracurricular pursuits, who could be together without commitmen
t
,
remaining comfortable and fulfilled in a perfectly-crafted non-relationship.  He loved what we had just as much as I did.

But wait.  He loved
me
? Don’t get me wrong, I wanted Logan terribly.  I wanted us to go back to the way we were before Liv came around.  Before her, being with him felt safe.  I knew he would never let me down
because
he wasn’t in love with me, nor I him.  The ones you love are the only people with enough power to cause any real pain.

We were friends who cared for each other and being with him was so easy.  Not to mention passionate.  But…love? After years of trying to stay commitment free, was I ready for that?  I had to admit, it was the first time in a while that the words ‘I love you’ didn’t have me on my feet and running in the opposite direction at the speed of light.  Maybe it was time for me to start loving someone again, too.  Maybe that
someone
could be Logan. Maybe there could be hope that my heart wouldn’t end up obliterated this time. 

I turned to face him.  His eyes were still closed, and even though he smelled like whiskey, I wanted nothing more than for my lips to be on his.  I wanted to explore the idea of having even more of a connection with each other than we already had.  And then, they were.  The kiss was different than all the other times.  Less raw animal desire and more…affection.  More…love.   

The tenderness and concern radiating from him threw me for a moment, while at the same time, affected me in a way I didn’t realize would ever be possible for me again.  I’d been kissed like this before but never by him.  I had been pushing away any moments like this for so long that I had forgotten how extraordinary it felt for someone to care this much. 

If only I could freeze time.  Press pause and stay in this moment forever.  Instead, Logan was the one who froze.  And the second he did, I knew the love he put into that kiss wasn’t meant for me.  Yet, now that I had tasted that kind of affection…Now that I had been reminded of how good it felt to have someone care for me that strongly…the recognition that it didn’t belong to me, and it most likely never would, crashed into me like a million stabbing needles in my chest. 

“What the fuck?”  He distanced himself—all the way off the bed.  He stared at me as he stood there, trying to grasp the situation.  The look on his face killed me.  Eyes wide.  Shock and disbelief behind them.  “What are you doing here?  How did you get in here?  What the fuck happened?”

My heart pounded as if someone took a baseball bat to my rib cage and kept swinging.  How could I have opened myself up to him like that?  How could I have let one stupid kiss allow that kind of hope back into my heart?  I sat up and opened my mouth, not really sure what words would come out, when the buzzer rang.  His head turned toward the door then back at me, eyes looking me up and down.  “You’re wearing my shirt.” 

“Y…yeah, I changed into it last night.” 

He let out a sigh and brought both hands to his face, wiping the sleep away.  The buzzer sounded again. 

“Fuck,” he whispered just before walking out to answer the door. 

How could I have been so stupid?  Why did I have to change into his dumb shirt?  Everything was wrong.  He was supposed to be happy that I had come to his rescue.  Happy that I had been there when Liv wasn’t.  And then things were supposed to go back to normal.  Shit, it wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

I chased after him, and when I opened the apartment door, I heard her.  Her!  What the hell was Liv doing here?  Her being here flustered me for a moment, and I stayed still, unsure of what to do.  Part of me wanted to run, change back into my own clothes, and hide.  But something inside urged me to fight for him.  Fight for
me
.  Fight, because I was tired and lonely and I deserved to be loved just like everyone else.  And after that kiss that Logan had just jolted me with, my only thought was
what better person to love, and be loved by, than him.
 

Liv’s being here could actually be a good thing.  Maybe there was a reason for it.  I forced myself to regain control.  One word came to mind as I stepped out of the apartment and to the top of the stairs. 

Opportunity.

“Who is it, baby?” came out of my mouth before I had a chance to contemplate any more thoughts.  My own words made me nauseous.  They caused my mind to flash back to a time when I was in Liv’s shoes.  I remembered the horror—the disgust—of catching the person you loved with someone else.  Yet to this day, the man I wanted and the woman I caught him with are still together.  They managed to ride happily off into the sunset.  Maybe Logan and I could, too.

Liv’s eyes widened as she stared up at me.  Her face scrunched up in angry horror.  Then, her wounded stare turned to Logan just before she slapped him and ran out.  He followed her, of course, but it didn’t matter because she would never be able to un-see what she just saw.  Logan half-naked and me in his t-shirt.  Regardless of what actually happened, witnessing us together in such an intimate way would give her doubts.  Maybe she would never trust him again. 

She would
never
trust him again. 

As I replayed the thought in my mind, I asked myself if that was what I really wanted.  Had I become that selfish?  Was I doing the right thing?

Maybe it wasn’t selfish at all.  The truth was, Logan would be hurt at first, but I could be here to pick up the pieces.  I’d be the one to put him back together.  And he would finally see that I’m more valuable to him than Liv could ever be.  I wasn’t doing this
to
him; I was doing it
for
him. 

I pushed back my doubts.  The ones that squeezed my heart and told me that I didn’t belong here.  The ones that said
walk away…let it be.
  I shoved those thoughts away hard because just once in my life, I wanted something to work out in my favor.  Just
once
.

I took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand.  The first thing in showing Logan my worth would be giving him a safe, loving place to return to when he finished talking to Liv.  What better way to start than with food.  Hangover food. 

I went back into the kitchen and opened the fridge.  Eggs, cheddar cheese, lunchmeat, and a few condiments were the only things on the shelves other than beer.  Eggs would have to work.  I found a frying pan in the cupboard and got started.  As I finished scrambling the eggs, the apartment door slammed shut. 

“When the fuck have you ever called me 'baby'?!”  Logan stood in the kitchen entryway with a wrapped gift in hand. 

“What do you mean?  I’m sure we’ve said it to each other before…”

“What are you doing, Chlo?” 

“I figured you’d be hungry.  I’m making breakfast for us.” 

He set the package down on the floor.  “No.  I mean what are you doing
here
?  How did you get in?”

I sighed.  Getting him to come around may be more difficult than I thought.  But he was worth it. 

I faced him.  “You called me.  You were sad.  You needed company.” 

“I didn’t call you.” 

“Yeah, Logan, you did.  Like you always do when you’re lonely.”  Okay, so he called Gavin, and I happened to be there for the call.  Same difference. 

I took the pan off the hot burner and rested it on a cool one.  I stepped toward him, but he backed up.  His hesitation didn’t stop me.  I grasped his hand, brushing the top of it with my thumb.  “And I made you feel good.  Like I always do.” 

He shook his head with his eyes on me, then chuckled with contempt.  He removed his hand from mine and brought it to my chin, tilting it upward and forcing me to look directly into his eyes.  I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face with the knowledge that he was going to kiss me.

“Do you think it's love?  This thing you’re feeling right now?”  The pity in his voice swiftly wiped the grin from my lips.  “You have no idea what love is.  Love is selfless, Chloe.  What is wrong with you?”  I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted before I could say anything.  “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not gonna work.  Because what you’re feeling—for me—isn’t real.  When it’s real, you stop being selfish.” 

He let go of me and walked past me to the stove.  He picked up the pan of scrambled eggs I made and scraped the contents into the sink.  After grinding the eggs in the disposal, he passed me again, storming toward his bedroom. 

I followed him, reckless words spewing from my lips.  “Last night happened, Logan.  And you fucking loved it.  If you were so ‘selflessly’ in love with Liv, it would’ve never happened!  Maybe you should think about
that!
”

He scooped my folded clothes from his dresser top and shoved them at me, forcing me to take hold of them.  “I. Don’t.  Love. You.  I’m sorry, but I never will.  You need to go.” 

He turned me around by the shoulders and pushed me forward, towards the door.  “Why are you being so mean?  She’s not good for you!”  I shuffled out of his grasp and turned to face him.  “Can’t you see that I’m here for you?  I
am
being selfless.  I can help you get over her!” 

He took a calming breath.  “I don’t
want
to get over her.”  He squeezed the bridge of his nose, then stared at me, pissed off.  “I erased your number from my phone months ago.  I know I didn’t call you because I don’t have your number anymore.  I don’t know what the hell you did last night, but I sure as hell didn’t want it.”

“That hurts Logan.  It really fucking hurts.  Were you thinking about her while my mouth was wrapped around you last night?”  It was all true.  Except for the “last night” part.  We had been intimate before, so the specifics of date and time didn’t really matter, right?  So why did my heart drop to my stomach right after I said it? 

“Open your eyes, Logan,” I continued.  “The time we spend together is always beyond fucking awesome.  You know it is, you can’t say it’s not.  Besides, even if you tell her nothing happened last night, she’ll never believe that.”  His expression almost killed me.  It was as if he was in actual physical pain at the thought of being with me.  I had never seen him so emotional. 

He looked down at the floor in defeat.  “You’re right.  Fuck—she’ll
never
believe me.  I bet that makes you pretty damn happy, huh, Chlo?”

“Of course not, Logan.”  I reached for his face, but he stopped me, grabbing my wrist in midair.

“It’s over.” His grip tightened.  “There is no you and me.  There never was.  Never will be.  I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong.  Never come here again.  Never call me.  I don’t ever want to see you.  Not here.  Not at Gavin’s.  Nowhere.  Understood?”

He couldn’t mean that.  But the determined look in his eyes told me otherwise.  He didn’t love me at all.  Not even in the slightest bit.  In this moment, he hated me. 

What the hell have I done?

I nodded.  “Yeah, I get it.” 

“You crossed the line, Chlo.  I hope you’re happy.”  He pointed at the door, “Get out.”

My mind raced.  How would I fix this?  I needed time to think.  I took a step back.  Then another and began the walk of shame out of his apartment. 

As I stepped down the stairs, he called out, “How did you get in here anyway?”

I kept walking without looking back.  There was no point in lying anymore.  “The door was open.  I let myself in.”

I could feel his eyes on me, and the last thing I wanted to do was change into my clothes in front of him.  So, I braced myself for the cold, pushed the door open, and let the icy winter air take my mind off the nightmare that just happened.

As the wind stung my legs, I heard him shout out, “Keep the damn shirt!  I don’t want it anymore!”