Until Now

Come Here

     "Hey." Logan kicked off his shoes and climbed beside me on the bed. I mumbled, rolling over to face him. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting. I yawned, rubbing at my eyes. My fists smeared the makeup deeper into my skin as my eyes scanned across Logan. His eyes were doing the same, raking over my body, inspecting my sleeping situation.

     "I see you've made yourself comfortable," He joked.

     "You said—" My voice trailed off as I frowned. He had said to make myself at home. He, of course, had to go back to work. He dropped me off, guiding me to his bedroom, pointing out the bathroom on the way in case I needed to wash up. I had collapsed on his bed, disgusted with the night's toll of events. I had decided that I had no energy left in my body to move back down the hall for the sole purpose of washing my face. The black streaks wouldn't kill me, even if they did make me look like I was dying.

      "I know what I said." He grinned, setting a hand on my covered leg. I whimpered slightly at his touch, closing my eyes again, "I was only kidding. Go back to sleep,"

     I squirmed in his bed, shivering slightly. He frowned when he noticed I was wrapped in all of his blankets. "Are you cold?"

     I nodded slightly, mumbling, "A little."

     "Here, I'll find you another blanket." He stood up, scanning the room. I shook my head, grabbing at his hand dangling beside him. My fingers brushed against his, and he turned, looking down at our hands.

     "No, just lay with me."

     "Maisie, I don't think Jack would—"

     "I'm cold, please lay with me."

     He hesitated, biting his lip, which I found to be incredibly sexy. I watched him as he tugged at the edges of his shirt, bringing it over his head. Tossing it into a messy pile on the floor, my eyes darted to his chest, which was complete with a set of abs. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as he climbed in beside me, yanking the covers from me to cover him also.

     I frowned, tugging them back. He raised an eyebrow, turning on his side to get a better view. He watched me tug lifelessly at the blankets, while still in a groggy state of mind.

     "Maisie," He whispered, "Come here."

     Without hesitation, I squirmed and scooted my body across the bed until it was pressing against his. He grabbed the blankets, wrapping me tightly in them. His arms draped across my sides protectively, as I pressed my back into his warm chest. I sighed contently as his warmth moved to heat my frigid skin.

    We must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I remembered was being awaken by someone cutting the grass outside. I squirmed around, my eyes opening slowly. Two hands grasped my hips roughly, holding me in place. 

    "Don't move," Logan hissed, burying his face into the crook of my neck. His voice jogged the memory of the previous night. Thoughts flooded back to me, and my eyes widened at the recollection of Violet and my disagreement.

     "Logan?"

     "Hmm?" His husky voice responded.

     Even with my back to him, I guessed his eyes were still closed, his body half out of consciousness. I nudged against him, attempting to roll over. His grip tightened, and he let out a soft growl. 

     "It's early, Maisie. Go back to sleep."

     My eyes wandered the dark walls, shadows falling across them. A small clock rested on the end table, the red digits glowing. It was 7:23. Who would cut their grass before 7:30? I tried to move again, but his fingers squeezed roughly into my side, as one of his legs snaked across mine, pinning me to the bed.

     "Logan," I whispered again, doubts wandering across my mind. Surely, nothing had happened. As far as I knew, we were both still fully clothed. My memory failed to recall any inappropriate events.

     "Maisie, seriously," He mumbled, "My parents probably haven't even left for work yet. Just stay here, alright?"

    "Can I move?" I kept my voice soft, fearful of his parents catching us like this.

     "No." Logan nudged against the back of my neck, placing one soft kiss against my collarbone. "Go back to sleep." Grunting, I did as I was told. As my eyes closed, sleep surrounded me once more, pulling me out of consciousness.

     I awoke once more, my back no longer pressing against a body. How he had moved without awaking me was a mystery. My eyes raked over the clock which now read 10:01. I rubbed my eyes, uncovering my body from the layers of blankets required to keep my body warm. I slid my feet over the side of the bed, shuffling out of the door. I peered down the hallway in each direction, confirming the time on the clock was correct, and his parents were no longer around.

     "Logan?" I called out.

     "I'm downstairs," his voice called back. 

     I followed in the direction the voice sounded to have come from. I wandered aimlessly into what seemed to be the dining room. The table, however, was covered in trinkets, some only half painted. I moved to lift one, running my fingers across it.

     "Hey, there you are." His voice came from behind me. I turned, blinking. I looked down at the small item in my hand.

     "I—" I quickly set it back on the table, holding my hand beside it to confirm it was steady. "I didn't mean to, I mean, I was looking for you, and I got lost, and I—" I rambled. My voice faded as I realized he was laughing slightly at my rushed voice.

     "It's fine. You like that?" He nodded toward the object I was just holding. It was small, and yet the details were stunning. It was a tiny elephant, beautifully crafted. My eyes followed his, studying the animal. I looked back to him, nodding.

     "My grandmother collected things like that. It's beautiful. Does your mom paint?"

     "She makes them." He paused, his eyes moving from the elephant to me. His dark hair was tussled. Awakening with bed head was so stereotypical and yet so adorable. I noticed how husky his voice sounded when he spoke again. "She makes them with clay, and then she paints them. She has way too many of them, if you want that one..."

     "Oh, no. I couldn't. I was just saying it was beautiful."

     "You can." He shrugged, "If you want."

      I shook my head quickly, moving across the room to where he was standing. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, as he pulled me closer to his body. 

     "You smell good," He mumbled, sniffing my hair. My heart was already starting to beat faster.

      "Stop that!" I giggled, ducking out of his grip and dashing down the hallway. I had appeared in the center of the kitchen, dishes piled around everywhere. Two arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground. I frowned. It had reminded me of the previous night, as a way of God saying 'Call Violet'.

     "I should call Vi," I whispered, looking at my feet.

     "Hey." I looked up slowly, meeting Logan's eyes, "You can do that later. I made breakfast."

     "You made me breakfast?" I raised my eyebrows.

     "Well," Logan paused, "No. I made me breakfast, but you're welcome to have some."

     I laughed at this, my smile finally being sincere. I moved to him, wrapping my arms around his chest. I inhaled his scent as my face rested against his bare chest. 

     "I should put a shirt on," He hesitated.

     "It doesn't bother me." I smiled, "Thank you for everything you did for me last night."

     "No problem." He nodded toward the table across the room. I followed his eyes, moving to take a seat in the chair nearest to me. He poured another bowl of cereal, sliding it across the table to me. I lifted the spoon, taking a bite.

     "Mmm," I enthused, "Such a good cook!"

     "I sense sarcasm," Logan winked, chuckling, "but yes, cereal is my specialty."