Logan's tense, heated hand led me to the bathrooms. The tender way he'd looked at me on the dance floor verified he wanted to be with me, and only me, tonight, was replaced by a tight grimace.

With that previous look imprinted in my mind and my heart hammering, I felt the same way. Just one tiny stop before I could tell him. Stupid bladder.

"Hey, Logan?" His friend Emmitt followed us into the hallway. "The guys and I are going to a party. Do you want to come?"

"Thanks," he answered, his attention fixed on the women's bathroom door. "But I don't see Ellie much, so I'm keeping her to myself tonight."

Oof, what a statement. Declared with no hesitation too.

While I was in complete agreement, I shivered at the idea of him keeping me and at the possibilities of what he had in mind.

Fortunately, Emmitt seemed pretty oblivious to what Logan implied. He just shrugged and said something about a science experiment on Monday. While they discussed it, my bladder tugged again, but another science guy, Kyle, I think, joined the conversation.

Each beat from the gym's music resonated where I was clenching. The longer we lingered though, the greater the possibility that I peed in the hallway.

I patted Logan's forearm. "Excuse me." Peeing outside wasn't an option, but I wasn't comfortable if another girl escorted me, and no traffic flow had come in or out for the past ten minutes.

Coast clear.

"I'll block the door. And call you." His protectiveness was both touching and concerning. "Leave your phone turned on."

Bit overdramatic! I rolled my eyes at him hearing me pee and flush, but obliged because my bladder cramped. So, legs squeezed, I walked into the bathroom and checked the stalls.

Empty.

"All clear, Mustang Ten," I teased into my phone. "Cardinal Ellie is a go for peeing."

Only the phone time ran on my screen. A few muffled sounds responded, so I prompted, "Can I hang up?"

There were more muffled sounds, so I set my phone on the floor. After a slight struggle with the fashion evil known as pantyhose, thankfully, my underwear was still dry.

"There you are," an unrecognizable female voice came through my phone.

I froze mid-hover. What the heck? Who was she?

What came next was drowned out while I peed for what felt, embarrassingly, a long amount of time. Once started, I couldn't stop. The flush echoing against the ceramic tiled walls was also too loud.

The call a lost cause, I turned off my phone, washed my hands, and inspected my appearance. A loose pin stuck out of my head like a black toothpick. Fixing it took way too much time.

One final check showed that I hadn't tucked my skirt into my underwear or gotten toilet paper stuck on my shoe—it wouldn't be the first time—and I rounded the exit.

"Kendall."

Logan's voice made me stop short, not for what he said but it's acidic warning. His broad back faced me as if guarding the door.

The scene behind him narrowed in like a horrible, slow-motion accident.

A tall brunette faced him, scheming brown eyes flashing at me before gazing at him. Pale hands slipped over his shoulders, and their manicured nails sank into his neck like talons. Even under his bulky suit, his back and shoulders muscles tensed and his head ducked.

He...he...was kissing someone.

An invisible punch socked me in the stomach.

Not just someone. Red lips smeared onto his.
What the fuck?

"L-Logan?" I squeaked, my voice tiny and insignificant.

Dryness coated my tongue as Kendall moved in to kiss him again. Gaping, I couldn't feel my legs and feet to move. Before I blinked, a click sounded and a white flash followed—someone took a picture.

The action snapped my daze. I blinked as if that could wipe out this horrible exchange. Her lips. On my boyfriend's mouth.

Having no words, Ava faded where she stood off to the side, blue eyes stretched around and her hands covering her mouth.

"Kendall, what the fuck?" Logan grasped her shoulders and pushed her away at arm's length.

In one head turn, a blue-gray fire stormed in his eyes, and his mouth wrenched down.

Pure disgust. Thank goodness.

It wasn't much relief, especially when his eyes locked on mine and his expression shifted from my frozen shock to his ears turning slightly pink.

Say something, I begged with my eyes, all muscles and bones frozen. Every breath was a struggle against the pressure burning in my chest. My mouth hung open for so long, I was surprised I hadn't caught all the flies in Northern California.

Kendall looked around Logan at me, wiped the dark crimson smudge of lipstick on her lips with her thumb, and smirked. Her eyes flashed. In triumph. Over me. Someone whose only challenge was existing in my boyfriend's life.

My stomach dropped at him having a similar smudge on his lips.

"Ellie, it's not—" he started.

My speech still abandoning me, I raised a hand. Shut up, I projected, before he chose 'it's not what it looks like' for his first response.

Not here. And not those words.

A curious crowd had now taken an interest. Several phones were on us. With a slight shift, Logan faced Ava. Whatever his glare meant, it was enough to prompt Josh's arms around her shoulders from behind. She squeezed his forearms as if holding onto him.

Warmth burned my cheeks. I couldn't look away from him but cupped my elbows and wished the floor somehow swallowed me up.

He wiped his mouth and stepped closer, his large frame blocking me from the hall crowd. As he took my hand, his concerned eyes darted towards the exit.

Yes. Anywhere but here. I nodded and swallowed the pressure in my throat.

Silence enhanced our footsteps, until Kendall's voice bounced off the hard floors and walls, "I know you, Logan Hightower. I've had you!" Its volume increased with each venomous word. "And she will never satisfy you!"

Oh my gosh. Did she really say that?

Logan's arm from wrist to shoulder tensed, and his fingers pinched mine. Waves of anger vibrated through him, his jaw clenched, and he coldly cast over his shoulder, "You don't know what you're talking about."

His grip loosened on my fingers, and he lowered his head. "Keep walking."

Unfortunately, we only made it two more steps.

"Tell me!" Kendall's voice was now loud and shrill. "Can she make you come like I did?"

Please, just stop already. I was almost embarrassed for her. Almost, if I wasn't fuming with the urge to punch her lights out.

"Enough," Logan snapped over his shoulder.

I regretted the split second I finally stole a look at him. His cheeks were blotchy red, his eyes clenched into narrowed slits, and a vein popped out on the side of his neck.

"But is she enough?" Kendall's word vomit only increased, and his fingers trembled against mine. "Your charms might be enough to trick her into falling in love with you, but are her blow jobs as good as mine were?"

Were.

The plural reminder pierced into my heart. The sickening sensation intensified in my stomach. Hot tears pricked my eyes, and I blinked rapidly. My lips trembled.

Logan's stopping didn't register until my hand tugged behind me. "Kendall," he said through gritted teeth.

Despite him being angry, I hated her name from his mouth. Heat left my hand as he dropped it. His fists that were so tight, his skin was stretched white over his knuckles.

"Logan?" My voice frail, I grabbed his arm. Every band of muscle tensed like stone. I locked eyes and pushed out a desperate thought.

Get me out of here. Please.

The tension in one hand relaxed, which he lifted and brushed over my cheek. I relaxed when he nodded—good, he understood me—took my hand again and approached the exit.

Despite keeping my chin high, her words chewed holes through my false confidence. Speculation buzzed venomous thoughts and accusations through the fog of negativity that trapped the rational thoughts in my mind, and hot tears rolled over my cheeks.

Was I enough?

The moonlight beyond the exterior lights couldn't answer, so I turned to Logan.

"Ellie..." He slammed the doors behind us and smeared his fingers over his mouth.

Without his warmth wrapped around me, cold air bit into my skin like a cold shower. My shoulders, arms, and legs tingled with goosebumps, and I rubbed the back of my arms.

"I swear that was not what it looked like." He stomped back and forth.

"Really?" The cement stairs were colder, even through the layers of my skirt, but I sat, pressed my knees, and rested my elbows on them. Logan's loud, giant feet paced behind me. "Every time someone says that it's exactly what it looks like. She kissed you. Twice."

A loud thump and blur of black appeared below me. The crazy boy had jumped over the stairs. He knelt until our eyes were level. "I'm so sorry." Regret turned the ocean tones near sapphire.

"Let me guess." My mouth twitched, but not in a smile. "You're angry at yourself."

He nodded, holding those dark, stormy eyes on mine. "This is not how I wanted tonight to go."

"Sit." I patted the cement beside me. "Please."

He slid his jacket over my shoulders and plopped down. Shrouded in warmth, I would've also felt comforted by the fresh shower smell but, given the circumstances, I just muttered, "Thanks."

Awkward beats of silence followed. Unable to keep staring at nothing, my eyes shifted to him slumped over and rubbing his face. When I lowered one of his hands, his face was wrenched with tension and, even in the dark, tears glistened.

"Ellie..." His voice cracked into a dry choke. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Was set up," I interrupted and rubbed his arm. "Or, that's how it looked to me."

My words punctured something in him, and he exhaled. Some tension in his face eased.

"Pretty stupid to show me see something that's not there," I continued in a dry tone. Yes, it wasn't his fault but I was irritated it'd happened. "Or really, really desperate."

"The only thing there is a mistake." His hand intertwined with mine. "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear."

"Honestly? She's the last person I want to hear anything about. Come on."

I tugged on his hand, and we stood. Our footsteps, two of mine for every one of his, and his frustrated breaths were the only sounds bringing us across the parking lot. After he held my door and slammed his, he exhaled and wrenched the steering wheel.

"I'm more concerned that someone took a picture." I studied him for his reaction. "And what they plan to do with it."

"Probably will surface by Monday," he mumbled, zero surprise in his expression.

"Any idea why?"

"Kendall circulated Chloe's picture," he spat. "She stole it off Josh's phone."

Oh. That would've been useful information an hour ago.

His lips pressed, and he stayed silent, so I asked again, "Do you know why?"

Even in the dark, the blue in his eyes shifted darker. "Some bullshit about if she couldn't have me, no one could."

Huh. I looked away and shifted in my seat. Girl bullies were a whole other level of batshit crazy.

"But I know her too well." My head turned back to his pained smile and outstretched phone. "Play it."

"You recorded it?"

"Just the audio." He urged the phone closer to my hands. "In case someone messed with you in the bathroom. I want you to hear the conversation before she kissed me, including me saying that I want nothing to do with her."

"No." I curled his fingers around his phone. "Keep it for a record, but I don't need to hear anything."

"You don't?"

How skeptical he sounded made my heart clench. I sandwiched his phone-holding hand between mine. "No. I trust you."

All tension in his expression melted. Tenderness replaced his scrunched disbelief. More evidence beyond what I already knew. "The look on your face after you pushed her off you was all I needed to see." A wry smile tugged on my lips. "You looked like you'd kissed a sewer rat."

He studied my hands, then wrapped his other atop mine. "Baby, you never stop surprising me."

His stare was so intense. Like I was all that he wanted but more than he deserved. Like I was something he'd never take for granted. Above those conflicts, conviction locked into him.

I blushed under his unabashed stare. "Why?"

"You see things from a different perspective."

"Well, you might not like this one." I withdrew my hands to my lap. "She's obsessed with you. Why?"

The image of them together still filled my stomach with discomfort. Batshit delusion or not, something had rooted those feelings in her.

"Swear I didn't sleep with her."

Low and steady, he didn't hide the guilt in his voice. It weighed heavier in the silence that followed.

"But you did something," I mumbled to the window. "Multiple somethings."

None of this felt good to discuss like a bandage ripped off a wound that hadn't fully healed.

"You heard her."

I turned back to him ducking his head. "Do you need me to ask directly?"

"What? That she gave me two blow jobs?" Bitterness soaked the words like they tasted bad, and he took my hands like a confession. "Chloe and I were supposed to be different, a real relationship, which we were until I ruined it. I was with Kendall once at the end of freshman year. After Chloe dumped me, I was... not in a good place. Angry and disappointed, I couldn't find who spread her picture, and she wouldn't let me explain that it wasn't me."

Just like that, his voice hardened again. "I was drunk both times with Kendall. Both times were a mistake, especially the second."

So, he... putting myself into her shoes was a big stretch—pointed, ugly, vengeful shoes—but if she'd split up his relationship, and he came back to her... Yeah, I could see it.

I hated seeing it.

"Little hard to believe it was a repeated mistake." My words came out in short clips, and I pushed back against the ugly feelings squeezing my throat.

For him, this was in the past, and this conversation only took us backward to one we'd already had, but it was almost impossible not to imagine her lips wrapped around his dick in a cruel auto-repeat loop. A painful reminder of how I'd never be certain firsts for him like he'd be mine.

Did I make sense anymore? Maybe we should call it a night and go home.

"I never gave her anything. I was selfish and wanted to make myself feel good." His low admission cut through my thoughts. "I... didn't care about anyone else."

"Oh," was all I could say.

Girls who offered 'lip services' were painfully familiar because of Jake's indulgences. I'd always judged that they had little self-respect or a motive to use the guys, but, admittedly, I'd also never paid much attention to find out for certain.

Because who wanted to think about their brother like that? Not me, but hearing my boyfriend admit that, at one time, he'd also taken advantage of the situations that presented themselves wasn't something I wanted to think about either.

A wrenching sound cut through the tension. He was strangling the steering wheel again. "I hate myself for being an asshole. Even though I stopped during the last one, I woke up the next day disgusted with myself and swore off treating girls like that. She was the last."

"It's not just about being an asshole," I said as the realization sunk in. "You let her win."

"What?"

"From where I see it, she played you." Cue one dumbfounded stare. It was adorable, despite the circumstances producing it. "You were, umm, with Kendall before Chloe, right?"

"Yeah, but I told her it didn't mean anything. I need you to understand—"

"I do, but whatever you felt, told her, or tell her now, that's not what your actions said. You gave her exactly what she wanted, she broke up your relationship, and then you... went back to her."

"And I know how wrong that was, you've gotta believe me." Panic back in his voice, he cupped my cheeks. Two lone tears trailed down this sweet, remorseful boy's cheeks. "Please believe me. She's only a selfish mistake."

My heart tugged at the sight of his tears, so I reached up and brushed them away. Not as good as him, I just smeared them across his cheeks. "A very, very tiny part of me feels sorry for her. Like, microscopic."

"She doesn't deserve any sympathy." His eyes narrowed and his forehead scrunched into a frown. "Shit, I don't even—"

"Stop." I squeezed his damp cheeks. "You have nothing to prove or defend about your feelings for me."

"They'd better be obvious." His hands bracketed mine. "You mean everything to me, baby."

"I know, but the problem is she doesn't believe it."

He stared at me for many seconds, all lips parted and doubtful eyes. "How...you aren't like anyone else I'll probably ever know. How are you not pissed off and wanting nothing to do with me?"

I couldn't help but laugh, although it was more of a bitter bark. "I'd be lying if I said the image of any part of you and her mouth gives me warm fuzzies. It makes me sick to my stomach. I'm on your side and believe you, but if you step into her crazy shoes, you'll see things from her side too."

Also, with zero stretch of my imagination, Kendall had made Chloe's life miserable at school. "But now she's trying to hurt me. I'm not upset at you now, but if you don't make this shit go away, I will be."

"More than fair. How can I get her to stop? I've told her it's not going to happen, I've avoided her, apologized, I just don't know what else to do." He spoke more to himself, leaned away, and dragged his hands through his hair.

Jealous girl drama was so out of my comfort zone. I shrugged, not at all envious of him having to resolve this. "Guess you just have to prove that she can't have what she wants. Which, if it isn't obvious, is you... doofus."

He glanced back at his school. "She's the same, wants the trophy boyfriend, the—"

"The label, the jacket, the ring, the social status," I finished. "I know. Doesn't make it right, but I understand some girls can be quite... persuasive. Manipulative."

Hell, just earlier today some weirdo was in my bedroom.

"Doesn't matter," he scoffed. A tentative hand reached for mine and threaded our fingers. "I want someone warm, kind, and caring..."

Seemed like he wanted to say more. I held back a response, but wouldn't have ever guessed his next words.

"You, Ellie..." Voice quiet but firm, more tears filled his eyes. "I only want you. Because I'm in love with you."

He what? Had I heard right? He was telling me this...now?
I mean, I knew. Suspected. Hoped?

My brain churned into mashed potatoes and, for the second time in ten minutes, I was struck silent. To his credit, his determined expression remained as I fumbled for coherent thoughts. "What?"

"Correction, not in love with you." He'd never looked more serious. Hyperfocus-level serious. "I love you."

I could even blink, not surprised that he felt like this, just at how he'd told me now. Under these weird circumstances and in the context of him regretting being with someone else.

Guess there was no perfect time to admit it.

A heated glow spread through my chest. As if my body agreed, all the discomfort since leaving the bathroom washed away under the simple, undeniable fact:

This boy loved me.
About time he admitted it...and me too.

"I love you too," I replied slowly.

While I'd known for weeks how I felt and word vomited a list to Harper earlier, my body felt lighter and airier with the words out in the open. Shared between us. Only us.

A smile tugged on my lips. "I don't care if you were an asshole before. You aren't one now. Practically perfect boyfriend material, it's quite annoying."

"Annoying?" His eyebrows raised, but the shift into his familiar confidence produced a smirk. "Can you come closer so I can annoy you further?"

"Very funny." I shifted closer, and his arms wrapped around me. His head nestled into my neck and took a slow, savoring breath. My eyes slid shut. His warmth, comforting fresh scent, everything this boy was enveloped me.

When he pulled back, a shadow of sadness cast over his handsome features.

"This wasn't how I wanted to tell you." He echoed my thoughts with a sigh. "I'm sorry. Tonight, I'd planned... never mind. Just add it to the list of things I've fucked up."

These mysterious plans pricked my interest. "What did you plan? We left early, so there's time for... something else. Anything else, please."

A wicked grin and a suggestive spark in his eyes appeared. "You mean it?"

If anything, I wanted to get the hell away from his school. We both needed some kind of release. "Let's go."