MAISY

Despite my protests, Logan takes my bag from me and tosses it in the back seat of his car before opening up the passenger side door. I don't say anything as I climb inside, even though I'm completely aware of the look he's giving me. I know I'm worrying him and he's got every right to be worried. I'm even giving myself whiplash. One minute I'm storming away from him, the next I'm asking for a ride. Christ, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I push my wet hair off my face as Logan shuts the door and walks around to the other side of the car. I need to get off the streets, find a place to think, and get my shit together.

The car smells like money- leather, peppermint, that new car smell, and, of course, him. It's possibly the best thing I've ever experienced and a part of me wishes I could just lock the doors and stay in here forever. But I'm painfully aware of the situation I'm in.

I look down at my wet blouse which clinging to me and making the lines of my lace bra visible underneath. I cringe as I pull it away from my body. Jesus, I might as well have been standing in front of Logan naked out there. My cheeks color just as he opens the driver's side door. As he throws the umbrella in the back and climbs in the car, I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He runs his hands through his wet hair and gives it a shake, but doesn't say anything as he starts the engine. He pulls out of the parking spot and out into the road, adjusting the air as he drives. I'm overcome by the need to fill the silence between us.

"I'm getting your car all wet. Sorry about that."

Logan shakes his head, like his car is the last thing on his mind in this fucked up situation we find ourselves in. And the situation is fucked up. I'm supposed to be disappearing right now, not driving around town in Logan Stanfield's car. I knew all the risks involved in coming home, but I was stupid enough to believe I could handle them.

When we're about a block away from his office Logan finally asks me where he's taking me. "Your house? A mechanic? Where, Maisy?"

The possibilities reel through my mind and I close my eyes as I go through them one by one. I can't go back to my house. It's obvious from the car that I've been discovered. I could go to a mechanic; they're two in town, but is that what's expected? Would I be walking into a trap?

"Maisy?" Logan snaps me out of it. The next thing I know I'm shaking my head before I even open my mouth.

"I just need my tires fixed. Someone needs to fix them and then I can get on the road. I can get out of here." I sound a little manic, desperate even. I'm sure Logan can sense it from the way his eyes keep wandering from the road over to me. I must seem like a mess, and as much as I want to deny it, I am a mess. I ran away eight years ago with no plan in mind, and after all this time, I sill don't know where I'm headed.

"I'll take you home. You can call a mechanic from there-"

"No!" I catch myself, reigning in the frantic trill to my voice. "I mean, I already turned the keys into the real estate agent. I can't go back there."

This is a lie. The keys are in my purse. I just know my house isn't safe; it never really was though, but right now I need somewhere safe. "Can you just take me to your place?"

Logan's body tenses. I realize how inappropriate it is for me to even ask; we're not at that place. Logan and I can barely survive being in the same car together but still, I need somewhere off the radar, somewhere where I can figure out my next move. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Logan and I don't have any attachment to each other; no one would think to go looking for me at his house.

"Maisy..." He sounds unsure, but he's my best option right now so I do my best to persuade him.

"Please Logan. It shouldn't be for more than a couple of hours. I'll call a mechanic, get the tires fixed, and be out of your hair for good."

His face is turned towards the road ahead so I can only see his profile but I imagine he's weighing things out in his head. I'm sure life would be easier for Logan if I hadn't resurfaced. I seemed to have opened old wounds for the both of us, and I don't blame him for being resistant; I'd rather not go to his house either, but right now I don't have much of a choice.

"Please Logan," I plead, and that's all it takes. He doesn't look at me but he nods his head, and then his mouth sets into a deep frown.

My body sags into the seat in relief and I rest my head back on the headrest behind me, staring out the window at the rainy streets. It was only a matter of time before my past caught up with me, but I thought I'd be able to pull this off. I thought I'd be able to come here, get the money, and disappear before I was found. I obviously thought wrong.

I glance into the side mirror, looking behind us to see if we're being followed but there's only a school bus behind us. It pulls up next to us and I watch the kids through the window. They're up out of their seats, laughing and carrying on. I was never like that. I was always too afraid to get out of line. Had I known then what my life would turn into I'm not sure I would've made the same choices.

"You deserve everything," Eli's voice plays in my head and I remember that night. He was resting his head in his hand and his elbows were bent on my mattress. He leaned over me with one of his dazzling smiles. "Not many girls would put up with my shit like you have." He dipped his head down and brushed his lips against mine. "I love you."

Eli had only said those words a handful of times in the years we were together and I rarely returned the sentiment. But when I did, I wasn't talking about the same kind of love he was. I cared about Eli deeply, but love... That wasn't something I didn't think I was capable of.

For some reason an image of Logan Stanfield sitting on top of that jungle gym popped into my mind and I turned away from Eli. I rested my head on the pillow and let the vision fall from my consciousness. There was no point in thinking about the past, or mulling over what might have been. This was my life now.

He must've sensed something in my mood because Eli suggested we go out for dinner, something we rarely did. I slipped into one of the few cocktail dresses I owned, a tight, black, lace number that had Eli's eyes bulging out of his head. He looked good too. His muscular body was clad in a form fitting black suit, making him look even more menacing than he normally did, but sexier too.

We had dinner Al Fresco's and everything was going great. We split a bottle of wine and he held my hand during most of the meal. Eli paid the bill and helped me out of my chair, and with his hand on the small of my back, he led me out of the restaurant. We parked a few blocks away, but it was a nice night so I didn't mind walking. Plus Eli and I didn't get to have many moments like these and I was enjoying myself.

His fingers twisted in with mine as we strolled down the sidewalk towards the empty parking lot. The city around us was quiet, too quiet. Something didn't quite feel right. But I ignored it.

"You know, I've been thinking about what you said the other day, about us, our future..."

My heartbeat picked up and I looked down at the ground. I knew we needed to have this conversation, but I didn't want to have it right then. I just wanted to give myself the night off, enjoy Eli and enjoy the moment.

"I think I found a way Maisy. I think I found a way to make it work."

Logan turns down Edgemont and I immediately sit up. This is the way to my house. The alarm sets in and I turn to him in a panic. "What are you doing?" I ask, glancing back out the window and then back over to him, worried that he's changed his mind.

"Relax Maisy." He shoots me an agitated look. "I live on Fuller, on the other side of the park."

"There's nothing on the other side of the park." It's my turn to be confused.

"You've been away a long time Maisy."

He drives by the street you'd normally take to get to my house but keeps going straight. Two roads down he makes a left and I see the park up ahead, and what apparently is a whole new section of town. Fancy black and white townhouses line the street, each with identical staircases leading up to cozy porches. Logan pulls up and stops his car in front of one of them, killing the ignition. I look up through the steady rain at the townhouse with black shutters and a bright red door.

"Ready?" Logan asks, looking about as uneasy as I feel.

"Ready," I lie.

We both get out of the car and make a mad dash through the rain as Logan leads the way up the stairs. I subtly check out the sidewalks, making sure that we're alone as he unlocks the door. The idea that Logan might not live by himself pops into my head. He never said anything, but I didn't really give him a chance to as I essentially invited myself over.

He opens the door and lets me in first. As I step into the foyer, I bite down on my lip, anxious to see where he lives and not knowing what to expect. The house is nice though. It's not overly decorated or underdone either; it's understated. It's Logan, or at least what I imagine him to be. I stand there dripping wet on the hardwood floors and take it all in as Logan closes the door behind us and shakes the rain off his body. Sometimes the smallest movements he makes draw me in, and I find myself staring at him again. He catches me before I can look away and we both give each other uncomfortable smiles.

I follow him into the living room where there's a huge brown sectional with a low, wooden coffee table in front of it, and a large TV mounted on the wall. This room has more of a bachelor feel to it. I look around for signs of the girlfriend-- a fashion magazine discarded on the coffee table, a pair of heels left carelessly by the door, but there is nothing. The space is every inch single man. From the comfortable furniture to the less is more vibe; there is no visible sign that a woman is living in this house. Of course, that didn't mean that Logan's girlfriend still didn't spend plenty of time here, and I begin to wonder what she'd think if she knew I was here right now.

Logan leans back against the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room where I'm now standing, still dripping on the wooden floors. I notice his eyes roam down to my chest and then quickly dart back up to my face. He clears his throat. "You wanna dry off, shower maybe? Or do you want to call the mechanic first?"

I pause for a moment. I want to call the mechanic and get things going, but I can't continue to stand here shivering in front of him in my practically see-through blouse. "I could use a shower," I tell him.

Logan nods his head but doesn't meet my eyes. He pushes off from the counter and has me follow hm upstairs. He pushes open a door at the end of the hall and leads me inside. It's his room. I can tell right away. Logan's stamp is all over this place, from his scent that clings to the air, to clothes he was wearing yesterday tossed at the foot of the unmade bed. He quickly steps towards it, kicks the clothes under the bed and pulls the dark blue comforter up over the rumpled sheets.

"You can shower in there." He tells me, pointing to an open door on the other side of the room. "There's a clean towel hanging up. I'll get your bag and leave it on the bed so you'll have your stuff." I nod, appreciating how he's going out of his way for me even though I'm sure it's the last thing he wants to do.

"I've got to make some phone calls, sort some stuff out with work. I'll be downstairs. Come down whenever you're ready."

I look up at his face; it feels as familiar as when I was seventeen. I wish I could tell him how much this means to me, how much he means to me, but that wouldn't be smart. It'd be like pulling a thread, everything would unravel. He nods again and then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, thinking how surreal this all is. Logan's bedroom is not a place I ever imagined stepping foot in. I walk over to the bureau and pick up one of the few pictures he has framed. It's of Logan, his girlfriend, Dawn, and a boy I think I recognize from high school. He was Logan's friend. The three of them are dressed up and Dawn is sandwiched in between the two men. They're all smiling and Logan has his arm draped around Dawn. My finger traces his face, studying his smile. That's the smile I remember. That's the smile I have yet to see.

I put the picture down and walk over to the window just in time to spot Logan as he dashes out of the house towards his car with his shoulders pulled up and his head ducked down. His white shirt becomes drenched again and my eyes linger over his now visible muscles. He gets my bag out of the backseat and slams the door. As he turns back up to the house, I step away from the window fearing that he'll catch me watching, but my gaze gets captured by the view. Straight ahead of me I can see the entire park, more specifically the playground, the place Logan and I spent our one and only night together. A piece of my heart breaks off as I turn for the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it.