Ten Minutes for Christmas Page 2

  She nods and sniffs again. “I just had my midterm. I’m failing calculus. If I can’t get through this class or at least fucking understand it, then I have to change my major.” She throws up her hands. “There goes my dream of being an anesthesiologist. I’m so stupid!”

  “For all these years I’ve known you, you’ve been a lot of things … irritating, anal… but stupid is never a word that came to mind.”

  “But what about this? I did fine in last quarter, but now that we’ve moved into Calculus, I just don’t get it. I’m going to talk to my professor tomorrow.” She straightens her shoulders and raises her head. “Then I’ll talk to my counselor about changing my major.”

  I rock back on my heels and hold up a hand. “Would you stop for a minute? How did a few Calculus problems turn into a life and death career shift?”

  “You don’t get it.”

  “I do get it. How are your other classes going?”

  “Fine. I have A’s in everything else.”

  “Of course you do. Exactly. Let’s not throw in the towel just yet. I can help.”

  “You?” Her eyes narrowed again. “You’re probably just going to go and tell mom and dad that their golden girl is a big fat failure.”

  I roll my eyes. “Right… like I told them when you pulled the support back at the last second when I was going over that bike jump, and I broke my collar bone.”

  “You never told them?”

  “Did you ever get in trouble? No, I never told them. I won’t tell them now. I owe your mom and dad a lot… more than you will ever know. But, we’re adults now. We make our own messes and have to clean them up.”

  “You really know how to do these equations?”

  I pick up the paper she’s crumpled and point to the problem. “You reversed the numbers here. Do you see it?”

  She stares at the paper for a long moment and then nodded. “I see it.”

  “Then how about instead of all this whining, we eat a few cookies and knock the rest of this take home test out.”

  She takes my hand and rubs her thumb over my fingers.

  “Thanks.” Here brown eyes are warm and caring. “When did you turn into a nice guy?”

  “I didn’t.” For both of us, I need to do what I’m best at and throw that protective fortress back around my heart. “But, that doesn’t mean I can’t help you pass your class.”

  I have to keep this night in check. Ev’s so sweet. As my dad always told me, I’m the loser, not her. All I would end up doing is hurting her one way or another and I won’t do that. She deserves better than me. I pull my hand away and stand.

  “You get your problems written and I’m going to get some milk.” I close the door behind me and lean up against the wall. Pulling in a breath between my teeth, I try to tell myself not to let anyone too close. My family’s motto. But it’s nice to be wanted by someone. This family always gives me what I’m missing in my life. It’s nothing more than that.

  Ev’s changed. We both have. I can easily get used to someone like her in my life. I have no idea what I’m thinking… she’s been in my life since we were six. Still. It’s different now. But, now that I know her secret that she’s not perfect, I wonder if she knows mine, will all hell break loose?

  I quietly bang my head back against the hall wall and try to steady my nerves. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I mutter a curse and head downstairs for the milk.

  Chapter 3

  It’s Saturday and I want to sleep in, but I have to get my table set up. With all the cars already in the parking lot, the Christmas Farmers Market and the McLaren Center is busier than last weekend. Hopefully, I’ll make more than the fifty dollars I sold last week.

  My chain maille jewelry business fits in two plastic bins. Mom drove me here and dropped me off. I’ve learned it a dog-eat-dog world at these markets. Between the other three girls I’ve met, whoever gets here first, saves the spots. The hall smells yummy like hot apple cider and the other vendors are happily chatting.

  Looks like Annie beat me here by quite a bit. She has her table already set up and our three tables flagged off with colored signs. I flip my green tablecloth that I borrowed from my mom over the table, open the plastic lids, and then walk toward her table.

  “Thanks for saving the spot. Nice,” I comment and pick up a wood welcome sign. “Are these new?”

  “I did them this week. Thanks.” She grins from the compliment.

  “Wood’s expensive. You must really be in the hole after you bought all this?”

  “A little secret.” She puts a finger against her lips. “My dad owns a small hardware store and he’s been bringing home wood scraps for years. My mom loves that he’s finally getting rid of his junk, as she calls it. Even the paint and the hangy things I got from my dad.”

  Jorie and Krista come flying in the side door. They are each carrying an end to a long Rubbermaid container. “Sorry we’re late,” Krista says. “I was taking the last muffins out and had to wait until they were cool enough to wrap.”

  Annie stands and takes Jorie’s purse off her shoulder to help her get settled. “I’m always early, it’s just a personality trait that I can’t shake so I might as well save the spots.”

  Jorie groaned. “I would give anything to have slept in another half hour this morning. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that friend’s party last night.”

  “I wish I’d been doing something fun, I was up half the night working on homework.” I place a jewelry stand on each corner of the table and begin to hook the earring cards over the wood slats for display.

  “How are classes going?” Krista asks. “Last week you were worried about your midterm.”

  I shrug. “It didn’t go great, but I got some help… I have a study partner. I think I’m beginning to understand Calculus a little better.”

  “That’s good,” she says, as she spread out her baked goods and handmade jewelry. “What are you going to use your money for?”

  “I have a vintage table cloth on hold for my mom and a pair of headphones for Katy. I haven’t figured out what to get my dad, he’s hard to buy for. I’ve been keeping all of the receipts and this week, I should pay for my supplies. After this, it will be profit. It’s a few more weeks until Christmas so I have time to budget and think of more gift ideas.” I stop and think about Logan. I need to get him a gift too.

  The morning goes by quickly with lots of people stopping by. As the afternoon winds down, I’m happy I brought my text book and can get some study time in between the lookie loos.

  “How’s it going?” A deep voice shakes me from my Calculus haze.

  I look up and find Logan standing in front of my table. “It’s going good. I finished a page of math problems and when I counted my cash box, I was surprised that I’d made over seventy dollars.”

  “Congrats.” He’s wearing a black leather jacket and blue scarf. Broad shoulders, lean hips, and a lazy smile that makes my insides turn to goo. I’ve never been attracted to bad boys and especially one I’ve known most of my life, so why does he look so damn good? He picks up a set of chain maille earrings and a necklace and holds them up to the light. “These are great. How did you learn to make these?”

  “I looked it up online. How else does our generation learn to do anything? YouTube videos.”

  “You’ve got a point there.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your mom asked if I could come and pick you up. She’s cooking dinner and wanted me to save her a trip.”

  I look over at the large clock on the wall. “I’m still here for an hour. I can’t leave early. They frown on vendors pulling out and leaving empty tables.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do. Can I sit here?”

  I pull it out. Logan slides between the two tables,
introduces himself to the other girls and then sits next to me.

  “Is this your study partner?” Krista asks. When Logan turns towards me with a question on his face, Krista mouths ‘Wow’ to his back. I try to keep my face immobile but a silly, girly giggle escapes my throat.

  I thought he’d be upset, but Logan grins. “Is that what I am? A study partner?”

  “I’m not sure what you are.” I pick up my cold latte and take a drink. Logan’s become much more. I’ve missed him being a part of my life these past few years.

  His hand closes around the cup. When his fingers brush mine an electrical trill rushes my bloodstream. He takes the latte and tips it up. “Your coffee’s cold.”

  “Uh… huh.” I can’t take my gaze from his mouth. When I raise my gaze to meet his hazel eyes twinkle. One corner of his mouth raises in an almost undetectable smile. I hope he’s not thinking the same thing I am… cause… that wouldn’t be good.

  Sitting next to him he smelled like fresh, winter air and something spicy and intoxicating.

  I give a shaky laugh and try to knock the erotic thoughts from my head.

  When the market closes and the last of the customers leave, Logan helps me pack my jewelry and stands back in the bins. He waits for me to put on my coat and then carries my stuff. A few people are singing Christmas carols and I hum along.

  When we reach the parking lot, he gestures with his hand. “Driving your mom’s minivan. I’m one hot guy,” he says joking. He pops the back hatch and drops the plastic containers in. “I’m only driving this as a favor. After this, I think I’ll stick to my bike.”

  “Motorcycles are dangerous. You know how easily you could be hurt in an accident on one of them”

  “So. No one would care.”

  “I don’t like when you talk like that,” I say. “I’d care.”

  “Would you?” He takes a step closer. I can feel the warmth of his body in contrast to the cold December air around us.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s nice to know someone would.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and grasps my scarf in his fists holding me captive. His eyes are a deep greenish gold and filled with caring and intelligence they leave me breathless. Catlike. I’ve never noticed what a unique shade they are before.

  He suddenly drops his hold on me and steps back. “We better hurry up or we’ll miss dinner and I’ll have another mark on my record for making you late.”

  I nod once and head around to my side of the car. Unfortunately, the chemistry that’s on my mind right now isn’t the one from a text book.

  Chapter 4

  Everly-

  Logan pulls mom’s van into the garage. He gets out of the car, but stops by the front bumper.

  “What’s the matter?” I look around confused.

  “My dad’s here. I… I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “It’s a problem.” He looks from me through the lit windows showing my family and his dad in the living room.

  “What are you going to do? You can’t stand out here all night you’ll freeze your ass off. Whatever is going on between you and your dad, I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Family’s family.”

  “Forgive me?” His laugh is hard. “Sure. The next ten minutes,” I hear him mutter under his breath as he follows me through the front door.

  “Logan!” His dad exclaims and heads towards us. He tries to hug Logan, but he steps back and extends his hand.

  “Dad.” Logan’s face is expressionless, his tone cool and professional as he shakes his hand.

  “Kids. You buy them a phone and then they never answer it.” Brett laughs, and shakes his head. “How have you been son?”

  “About the same as I’ve been the last twenty-one years.”

  “Still holding down that job at the Quick Lube?”

  “They made me the store manager last week.”

  Brett’s eyes widen. I can tell that he’s surprised. “Well, I guess that’s good.” He turns and says to my dad, “I keep telling Logan he can do better, but you know, you have to have some motivation.”

  “Brett was telling us all about the remodel.” My dad tries to change the subject since the ice between Logan and Brett can be chopped with a pick axe.

  “Yes, how is the remodel going?” Logan asks.

  “You know remodels.” Brett takes a long swig off his beer. “Unless things change… it’s taking longer than expected.”

  “Is that meant to be a threat?” Logan eyes Brett. “Things won’t change.”

  “So, it looks like you can’t move home. You’ll find a place of your own, soon?”

  “What about you.”

  “What do you mean?

  “Where are you going to live, Dad?”

  “At the house.” Brett waves a dismissive hand. “That’s a stupid question. Are you high again, Logan?”

  “I see things perfectly clear and since you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been high for many years.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” Brett asks.

  “No. I don’t expect you to believe anything.”

  “I’ve had about enough of this. No wonder Logan has no self-esteem. Why do you talk to him like that?” I glare at Brett. When had this guy become such a jerk?

  “Since when are you on his side? Don’t you get mixed up with him, Everly. Logan’s trouble.” Brett shakes a finger at me. “That’s why I kept him away from you and your family when you were in high school.”

  “We’re not in high school.”

  “Nothing’s changed,” Brett says and scoffs.

  “You’re completely wrong about that. Why don’t you stick to things you know something about, which doesn’t seem to be much.”

  “Everly!” My dad cries. His eyes dart between me and Brett. He must be shocked hearing me talk like this. It’s something I never do.

  Logan grabs his coat, shrugs it back onto his shoulders, and heads out the door. I head after him.

  “Everly. Dinner’s on. Where are you and Logan going?” Mom calls out.

  I stop, take a deep breath and walk to her. “Save us some leftovers. I forgot I need to make a deposit at my bank. My accounts overdrawn. Logan said he’d drive me there.”

  “On his bike?” My mom’s voice goes up in tone. “You can take the van again if you want.”

  “We’ll be fine. We’ll be back later.” I kiss my mom on the cheek. “Logan would never let anything happen to me.”

  Logan-

  Adrenaline courses through my veins. I want to punch a wall. Break a window. I don’t. Ev followed me. If I act on how I feel my violence will scare her. I can hear the crunch of frozen leaves under the soles of her boots.

  She comes up from behind and grabs my arm. “Would you stop? You’re acting like a caged bull.”

  I throw off her grasp. “Go back inside. You heard what my dad said. Don’t get mixed up with me.”

  “I heard him say a lot of shit in there. My parents might believe some of it, but I believe what you’ve told me. Which, isn’t a lot. There’s something going on between you and your dad and it had nothing to do with a stupid remodel.”

  “Go back inside.”

  She steps closer and tips up her chin. “No.”

  “Listen to me.”

  “No,” she repeats. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my brother.”

  Our breath curls together in the cold air as we stand almost toe to toe.

  “You’re right. I’m not.” I grab her hand and yank her into the shadows of the garage. The smell of oil and rusting nails surround us. I’m desperate to taste her, I can’t seem to breathe. I hear the rush of air leave her lungs as I pull her to me and crush my lips aga
inst hers. I kiss her more forcefully than I plan. Everything. Everything that’s happened over the past months comes out. I try and stop the flood of emotion, but I can’t.

  Cupping her face in my hands, I mold my mouth again to hers and delve my tongue into the crease between her lips. I taste warm peppermint from a candy cane she ate. The kiss is amazing and for a moment all else falls away. For once, I don’t question tomorrow. It’s now.

  I pull back only long enough to fix my gaze on her beautiful, upturned face. A pink blush flushes her cheeks. She closes her eyes and places her cheek against the palm of my hand.

  I force myself to take a breath and drop my head again until our lips meet. This time, I take my time. The kiss is slow and moving, I linger until I hear her sigh.

  I touch my forehead to hers and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry for how your dad treated you back there?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You’d better not be sorry for that kiss.”

  I can’t help but laugh. She has a way of doing that. “Ev… will you spend the next ten minutes with me?”

  “This is the second time I’ve heard you say this. Does that line have some cosmic meaning?”

  “Kind of. Come with me, and I’ll try and explain everything. If that’s even possible.” The thought of talking with someone about what I’ve been through is terrifying. They call them secrets for a reason. But, standing here, I swear I can see myself reflected in her eyes. I’ve known her for years and know that I can trust her.

  “Sure, I’ll spend ten minutes with you… or ten hours. Maybe even more. We live in the same house.” She grins and I feel my heart slip.

  I back my bike out of the garage, hand her a helmet, put on mine and take her hand.

  “You trust me to ride on this death machine?” I ask.