Chapter 21
Logan texted me numerous times over the next couple days. Little reminders that he was sweet and ... yes, he was reminding me of the Logan I once loved. He still laid it out raw and in my face that this—us—was going somewhere, but instead of getting angry at him for pushing for more than I wanted, I found myself smiling and rolling my eyes.
Logan would be back in four days, and despite our recent texting and conversations, I still had trouble trusting him. Once he got back, I knew things would have to change, and I did realize that I may have to move from the farm sooner than I had anticipated. Logan and I may be talking, but living together was not something I was even close to considering.
He’d called last night twice. It was noisy and difficult to talk when Crisis and Kite kept yelling at one another while playing what sounded like a video game in the background. So, he called me back later after the guys crashed. I lay in bed talking to him for an hour, mostly about stuff we liked, music, food, movies. It wasn’t deep, but it was nice, and it was normal. Logan and I hadn’t had much normal.
I picked up my phone which sadly, I hated to admit, went everywhere with me in case Logan texted—pathetic—and ran downstairs. Kat was already sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap and two glasses of red wine on the coffee table. We’d decided that an evening of The Walking Dead was in order.
I plopped down and grabbed my pillow and beer then set my phone on the table. Kat glanced at it, brows raised. Then she smiled and stuck her tongue out and wiggled it.
“Gross, Kat.”
“You won’t be saying that when he gets back and has his head between your thighs.” She turned up the volume on the TV when I started stuttering my objection.
I reached over and picked up a kernel of popcorn and threw it at her.
It hit her right on the temple. I heard the sound of ripping guts in the background.
“It’s not like that.” I popped a few kernels in my mouth and took a sip of wine.
Kat picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it back at me. I turned my head at the last second, and it bounced off my ear. “Sculpt wants in your pants.”
“Sculpt was in my pants, now he doesn’t get that.” I threw the rest of my handful of popcorn at her. It tangled in her hair, and she set her wine down then picked it out one at a time. “Talking to Sculpt is my therapy.”
“Bah, it’s more than that. You’re constantly looking at your phone to see if he’s texted, you’re so falling for him—again.”
“You’re wrong. It’s not like that.”
Kat put her hands over her ears and started singing—loud. I threw a handful of popcorn at her laughing. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re drooling. Panting. Your wet panties will be off the moment he says, ‘Come here Emily.’”
I tried to control the burst of laughter at Kat’s Logan impression and failed. “Kat,” I yelled then grabbed for the bowl of popcorn. She squealed diving for it at the same time. We both had a hold of the bowl, and popcorn was everywhere. Kat tugged hard, and I let go at the same time. We both went flying backward and landed on floor opposite one another. Kat grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it all in her mouth then we were rolling on the floor laughing hysterically.
“What the shit?”
I had no clue whose voice that was, and I quickly scrambled to my feet, hearing the crunch of popcorn beneath me.
“Ream,” Kat garbled on her overflowing mouth of popcorn.
Oh f*ck. Standing in the doorway looking at us like we were crazy was Kat’s Ream. Well, not her Ream per say, but Brett said he was, and by the way his eyes were traveling over her I was thinking he was right.
Kat was still on the floor, her hair covered in white kernels.
“Kat.” Ream walked further into the room then dropped his bag on the floor. He wore a white T-shirt, and ink crawled down his arms and up his neck on the right side. He was leaner than Logan and about an inch shorter which meant he was still really tall. “Emily.” He nodded to me.
Kat got up and looked from Ream to the bag. “What’s this?”
“Crashing here.”
Kat slowly brushed off the white kernels. “Really? Surprising, considering you can’t stand to be in the same room as me.”
“F*ck, Kitkat.” Kitkat? He had a nickname for her? Holy shit, there was way more between them than Kat had told her about. “Don’t start.”
“Not starting anything, just pointing out the facts.” Kat started picking up the kernels on the floor and tossing them in the bowl. She was acting nonchalant, but there was more to it than that. Kat was uncomfortable; she never fidgeted. Right now she was doing everything she could to not look at Ream.
“Jesus, Kat, that’s not true.”
“You expect to stay here?” Kat grabbed the bowl of popcorn, walked into the kitchen and placed it in the sink before turning around and looking at Ream. “You have the nerve to stay here? I can’t believe you.”
“Farm is Logan’s. The band is back in T.O., so that means we’re staying here.”
“Yeah, I know. But I assumed you wouldn’t. You know I live here Ream, and I don’t want you anywhere near me,” Kat burst out.
Ream’s face hardened, and I dropped to my knees and quickly began picking up stray popcorn kernels Kat had missed. The history between these two was explosive and not in a good way.
“Kat.” Ream ran his hand through his hair. “You have to get why I couldn’t do it.”
“You f*cked off as soon as I had a little freak out over my shit. Not cool. You need a reward for shittiest move ever.”
“Kat, you’re not being fair.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “That’s some serious shit.”
Her voice hardened. “Damn right it is. And I saw your face when I told you. Your feet were running before I finished speaking.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, which was strange because I’d known Kat since we were kids. What serious shit did Ream now know that I didn’t?
Ream’s face dropped. “F*ck, Kitkat. That’s bull. I needed time to take it in.”
Kat threw up her arms. “You know what? I really don’t give a crap anymore. Sleep wherever the hell you want.” Kat stalked off into her bedroom and slammed the door.
I looked up at Ream and wished I hadn’t. The guy looked pissed, eyes cold as if he was going to join The Walking Dead crew and rip zombie heads from their shoulders.
“Sculpt’s back but dealing with some shit.”
“Why is the band back early?”
“That’s Sculpt’s deal.” Ream avoided my eyes as he threw his bag over his shoulder then glanced at Kat’s closed bedroom door, shook his head, and walked up the stairs to the second floor.
I finished cleaning up, turned off the TV, and went and knocked on Kat’s door. “It’s me. You want to talk?”
I heard her walking across the hardwood floors then the door opened. She’d been crying. Her face was all blotchy, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks. Shit. What was going on between those two?
I took one step and pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around me and then sobbed on my shoulder. Kat pulled back and wiped her tears away with her arm then sniffled. “Thanks, Eme. But I can’t talk about it now. And I see your face ... Yeah, I should’ve told you a long time ago, but it’s ... I don’t ever want to be treated differently.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. Why would I treat her differently?
But whatever it was Ream knew, it was serious, which meant I understood why it was hard to talk about. “You need me ... anytime, Kat. Okay?”
She smiled, but her lips were quivering, and I knew she was trying to hold back. I heard her door close behind me.