E. Montes - Perfectly Damaged

She crosses her arms over her chest. I’ve never seen her this pissed off. I finally catch up and walk beside her until we reach the end of the dock. She steps close to the edge, looking down. I stand by. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she were about to jump in at any time.

“Don’t let her get under your skin. She doesn’t have a good bone in her body. She does shit like that just to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, she sure knows how to hit a soft spot.”

“Who’s Eric?” I ask, my breath still a bit raspy from jogging.

Jenna drops her arms to her side, her hands tightening into fists.

“Who is he?” I ask again.

She squares her shoulders defensively.

“Jersey Girl.” I grip her shoulder. “I’m not your enemy. You can talk to me.”

Jenna shuts her eyes; her breathing calms and the tension in her body relaxes beneath my grip. Then she lets out a long sigh.

“He was someone I thought loved me.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

I nod. “I see.”

“He was my first.”

“First?” I raise a brow. “As in first guy you ever slept with?”

She turns her head, eyes glistening. “Yeah, that too. But he was also the first guy I fell in love with, the first guy I ever trusted, and the first guy who broke my heart.”

“What happened between the two of you?”

Jersey Girl turns her head away, her gaze skimming over the lake. She breathes in one deep breath, and then lets out a sigh, her shoulders deflating in the process. “I got sick.”

“Sick?”

“Yeah, sick. There was a time where I was at my lowest point in my life. Well, at the time I thought it was my lowest—”

“Like, the flu sick?” I interrupt.

She brings her eyes back to me. “Just sick, Logan. The point that I’m trying to make is that Eric couldn’t handle it and he left me. It was heartbreaking because it was when I needed him the most and he walked away from it all.”

What kind of bastard does that to someone he claims to care for? “Do you know where he lives now?” I ask.

Her brows draw in. “No. Why?”

“So I can go kick his ass.” I shrug at her wide-eyed expression. “I mean it’s an instant reaction. Do you have a last name? Social security number?”

She laughs.

There it is—her smile. I grin along with her, but I’m dead serious about hunting down this Eric guy. I put those thoughts aside and pull her into me. She nestles into my chest.

We stand there for a while before she pulls away and looks up. “So, there were a couple pretty girls at the party tonight.”

I smile. She’s talking about two girls that showed up. Jersey Girl caught Santino staring at them and overheard him tell me he thought they were hot. “Yeah, there were.”

She looks down, lightly tapping her sneaks into the edge of my boots. “Well, maybe you should ask one of them out sometime,” she says softly.

“Maybe,” I say. But they’re not you. That’s what I really want to say.

“So,” I say. “What’s going on with you and Matthew? Are you guys a couple or something?” I ask.

She snorts. “Hell no. I told him I’d prefer to be friends. We have nothing in common.”

You sure have a bad habit of putting guys in the friend zone, Jersey Girl. I make sure to keep that remark to myself.

Jenna lifts her chin. Her pouty lips twist into a gentle smile and her large cinnamon-brown eyes gleam. And that’s when it hits me: the feeling. It feels like one hard shot to the chest, punching all the air from my lungs. They slowly struggle to expand as I try to catch my breath.

Jesus Christ, Jenna is beautiful. She’s not the kind of beauty that you use for a one-night stand. She’s also not a friendly, sisterly kind of beautiful. She’s more than that.

Jenna is the kind of beautiful that I can get lost in. Lost from all the fucked-up-ness in my head. She’s the kind of beautiful that laughs at all my nonfunny jokes because she gets me. She’s the kind of beautiful that’ll put me in my place without batting an eye. Jenna is the kind of beautiful that can transform a nonbelieving man like me into a man who wants more. A man who can fall hard, stumbling over his own two feet because he’s so tangled up in her.

Fuck. Did I actually just admit that to myself?

Yes, I did. Because it’s all true. I’m falling for her.

Jenna has me strung the fuck out and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Maybe if I just tell her, maybe she feels the same.

But she’s made it very clear we should remain friends. If I tell her, she’ll just pull away. Do I risk our friendship over these feelings I have—feelings I’m not sure I can control any longer?

I know she feels it. She has to; there’s no way I’m feeling every bit of this on my own, it’s that damn powerful. Whatever is going on between us is definitely more.

I want to give her more of me, show her what I’m capable of. But I’m not even sure what the hell I’m capable of.

This is fucking frustrating.

“Are you okay?” Jenna asks. I nod. “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”

“No. I’m fine.” I take a step back, making sure to keep my eyes away from her. I can’t bear to look at her with my thoughts racing like this.

“Logan?” she questions cautiously.

“Jenna, I’m fine. Just leave it at that,” I say rather harshly.

“Okay,” she stammers, shocked by my outburst.

Shit, I’m even surprised by how I’m acting.

“I’m sorry.” Although it’s an apology, my tone is still rough. “I need to… I’ll be back. I just need to leave for a minute. I’ll be back.” I walk away.

I need to clear my fucking head.

Jenna

“Earth to Jenna,” Charlie shouts with a snap of her fingers.

“Yes?” I ask, but continue to stare out my bedroom window.

“Here I am trying to tell you how my vacation went and you’re ignoring me.” She huffs.

It’s Monday morning and I’m waiting for Logan to arrive for his work shift. He hasn’t responded to any of my text messages or phone calls this entire weekend. It’s as if he’s dropped off the face of the earth. Thursday night he seemed off. The way he walked away from me, and then when he returned, he said things came up and he needed to go.

After I questioned his behavior, he assured me things were fine. But I knew they weren’t. He didn’t look at me at all, and he kept his distance in the car when he drove me all the way home. When I asked him questions or tried to lighten the mood, his responses were short and curt even.

I don’t understand what I did wrong.

I thought maybe something bad had happened until Charlie stopped by and slept over last night, telling me all about her weekend at the lake house. She went straight there when she got back from vacation with her family, expecting to find me there. She mentioned how much fun the party this weekend was and how everyone—except me, of course—was there.

I questioned her about Logan, making sure to be discreet, to not sound like a pathetic stalker. She informed me he was, in fact, at the lake house this entire weekend. And not only was he present, but he was having the time of his life! She didn’t use those exact words, but that’s how I took it.

I’m furious. Here I am, worried sick that something might’ve happened to him, while he’s busy having the time of his life.

Charlie keeps going on and on, but I can’t hear a single word she says. My ears are blowing steam with the tick of each second that goes by as I wait for Logan to arrive.

And then, there he is.

He’s laughing and smiling with Santino as they walk across the lawn toward the site of the guesthouse. More laughter. What’s so damn funny anyway? Logan tosses his head back and howls in amusement again. This time whatever the joke is makes his body shake as he clenches his stomach. Are they laughing about me? How I spent the entire weekend stuck in my room, worrying about him? It’s all just one big joke.

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. My stomach knots as anger settles in. I turn and storm out of the room. Charlie’s voice yells after me, but it’s coming from a distance. The only thing I can think of is Logan and the way he acted with me on Thursday and how perfectly fine he seems now. He’s a dick. How dare he treat me this way? I thought we were friends.

Finally through the sliding glass door—and with Logan’s back to me—I yell out, “Hey!” He turns around. The large smile on his face instantly wipes clean, but that doesn’t stop me. I continue forward, my fists clenched to my sides. He turns to Santino, mumbles something, and then Santino walks off. I reach him, but he won’t look at me. He just keeps his eyes averted. His presence hits me strong.

I missed him.

I hate him.

I lift a hand and point my finger into his chest, poking against the thin fabric of his T. “What. Is. Your. Problem?” With each word I say, I dig my nail into his chest.

He brushes his hand over his pecs where I touched, as if it didn’t faze him at all. This only adds fuel to my fire and makes me more pissed off. “Nothing. What’s yours?” he retorts without a single look my way.

“What have I done for you to be such a dick right now?”

“Jenna, I have work to do. I don’t have time for this.” He adjusts the tool belt hanging over his shoulder and turns to walk away.

I grip his exceptionally large bicep, my thin fingers tightly fighting to hold on. He turns back around; still he doesn’t look at me. “Logan why are you doing this? The past two months we were fine and now…now you’re a complete asshole. Is it something I said? Or did you find someone else?”