Page 70 of Knowing Amelia

“Did you talk to anyone else?”

I purposely called when Dad (and apparently Ben) were at work. “Katie.” I flutter my lashes. “Ugh. She’s mad at me too.”

He lifts his brows in question.

“Apparently—” I hold up air quotes as I recite Baby’s words. “I abandoned her and left her with my daddy-obsessed boyfriend.”

Logan clears his throat. “Ex-boyfriend.”

“Exactly.” I point a finger at him. “That ticked her off too, that I hadn’t told her I’d broken up with him. But it’s not my fault he never mentioned it, that he’s still living there.” I groan.

Logan moves closer to me, and that strawberry field shampoo attempts to devour me. He laces his fingers with mine, sending sparks through my body like it’s the Fourth of July. “Are you okay?”

I sigh. “Yes. I’m great, actually. It’s only home and my family that’s stressful.” Sure, Logan makes me lightheaded and gives me heart palpitations, but he never stresses me out.

“What about subbing?”

I bite my lip. “Why did you bring that up?” I nudge his side. “Aren’t you supposed to be distracting me from subbing?”

“Right.” One foot away, he tucks a hair behind my ear, his finger skimming my cheekbone, tracing over my ear, and trailing down my neck. “Have you picked up the journal today?”

It takes me a second to process his question. He’s so close, all while smelling so delicious. “Yes.” I inhale, my chest filling. Collecting my thoughts, I give Logan an actual answer. “Her entries are so short now. I cheated; I read four today.”

He laughs. “It’s not cheating. You made up the rules; you can change them. What did she say?”

I can’t help but smile. I love a good love story. A contented sigh falls from my chest. I must seem silly to him. Again. “Same as her last six entries. She’s hopelessly in love and happy. She’s still hiding it from her family, but she doesn’t care because she is so blissfully in love.”

“Do I have to follow your rules?” He runs his free hand through his hair. “The curiosity is killing me.”

“Yes, you do.” Reaching out, I pull at his collar, bringing him two inches closer. At this rate, I will never get ready. “I should get started on dinner,” I say, trying to convince myself to go. “See you soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right over.” His hand in mine tightens.

I’ve never felt this kind of desperation before. My body has become magnetized. I can’t control the strange pull he has on me. It’s like I can’t stop myself; I reach up on my toes and kiss the side of his jaw. “Bye,” I whisper, as if this is how we always part. As if I’m not silently begging him to kiss me.

Logan’s free hand cups my neck as he draws me nearer, depleting any space between us. His eyes lock on mine, almost asking permission. Permission that I inwardly scream to grant him. I have never felt so desperate. Moving in, his soft lips brush over my mouth, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

He pulls away, his nose skiffing my cheekbone and I sway slightly. “See you soon,” he says.

Not soon enough. I’d like to drag him home with me. Right this minute. He’ll be over in a half hour, but right now, that feels like too long to wait.

My eyes draw up to the pretty elm separating our houses. It seems to say home to me. It’s strange, but my body and mind are at peace in Rendezvous.

Pushing open my front door, I walk in to see Amelia’s things mingled with mine. This place has become my house. My home. I love it here.

Anxious for Logan to come over, I race upstairs, shower, and work curling gel into my hair, letting it air-dry into beachy waves. I pick out clothes to match Logan’s vibe. A casual denim skirt from Amelia’s closet that’s knee-length and is retro enough to be in style. I throw a white tank over my head when there’s a knock. Logan. With one last glance in the mirror, I skip down the stairs to greet him.

I’m breathless and eager when I open the door. He’s standing there, grinning, and the sight makes my knees almost give out. He’s holding something, but I can’t look away from his brown-green eyes.

“I brought you something,” he says, forcing my eyes downward.

A frame? “What’s this?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to have this.” He flips around the square frame to show me the hillside chalking Amelia gave to him.

“Logan, I can’t take this.” Brow furrowed, I stare at the pretty work of art. “Amelia gave this to you.”

“She did, but I think she regretted not knowing you too. I think she’d like for you to have this, and I want you to take it.” He holds the artwork out to me. My gut pinches with guilt, but I take the picture.