Forgiving Lies

I was frozen. My heart had stopped and I wasn’t sure whether it had started back up again or not. How had he taken something as asinine as pancakes and turned it into a beautiful statement? But I knew right then I had my answer. It was definitely still possible to find that kind of love.

And I’d found it in him.

I stood and walked out onto the grass a ways to enjoy the night for a little longer and think about this revelation without his too-knowing eyes on me. Not two minutes later, his arms were wrapping around my waist and his lips were on my shoulder.

“I want you to be my wife, Rachel.”

My body froze but my heart began racing. What was he saying? “I thought I already was,” I said teasingly, and forced out a light laugh.

“No, uh, I don’t want this to end here. I—” He sighed and turned me so I was facing him. His darkened eyes searched mine and he shook his head marginally. “I get it, this is crazy. But I want this with you, what we’ve had this weekend. I don’t want it to end, tomorrow or ever. I want you, forever.”

“Logan . . . what?”

“Marry me.”

My mouth popped open and every rational thought that was screaming at me was quickly shut up when I saw the love he had for me pouring out of him. My head shook negatively for a split second before my mind realized that was the wrong direction and I furiously nodded. “Y-yes.” Oh my God, I can’t even figure out what word I’m supposed to say right now!

“Yes?” he asked in shock, and gripped my shoulders in his hands.

“Yes!”

Crushing my body to his, he captured my mouth and kissed me through our smiles. “You’re going to marry me?” he asked somewhat breathlessly, and kissed me harder. “You’ll be my wife?” I couldn’t respond against his forceful kisses so I just nodded again and he smiled. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Logan.”

13

Rachel

I FELT A body slip into bed behind me and instantly knew it wasn’t Kash. It was much too small, definitely smaller than my own . . . and the second her arms went around mine I knew exactly who it was. I patted at one of her hands and heard her sigh.

“You’re awake then?” Candice asked in a shaky voice.

“Yeah, I’m up.”

“Can’t believe it’s already here.”

“I know.” It was August nineteenth. It was a Saturday, not that the day of the week mattered; it just happened to be the day it fell on this year. The four-year anniversary of my parents’ death. I continued to stare blankly at my clock as the minutes ticked by and laughed softly. “Now, girls,” I said, imitating my mom’s voice perfectly, “how are you going to get guys to notice you if you spend all weekend in bed?”

Candice’s body shook with laughter and a happier sigh sounded behind me. “But, Rebecca, the sun isn’t even up. All the cute guys are still asleep. Go away,” Candice whined.

I mimicked throwing open the curtains, like my mom always would after Candice and I would complain. “Oh, they are?! Perfect! Then we can do the unattractive things now before they wake up.”

Candice rolled out of bed and threw the comforter off me. “Ready for the unattractive things, Rach?”

“Meet you in three!”

I jumped off the bed and went to brush my teeth, put on some deodorant, and throw on a bra. It was tradition. Whenever weekends began at my house, my mom would wake us up the same way. And even though we knew what was coming, we’d always complain about her waking us up so early on a weekend. Deep down, she knew we loved it. We’d go get breakfast completely skanked out. The only thing Mom would let us do was the essentials: put on a bra, brush teeth, and wear deodorant. Every time we’d order the same thing: hash browns, biscuits and gravy, and a ham-and-cheese omelet. We’d split all of it, and when we were done stuffing our faces, we’d go out for pedicures. My mom thought you should always look your best for guys, but girls needed to indulge every now and then, and doing it at the ass crack of dawn was her method for getting away with it. And now, every year on the anniversary, Candice and I honored that memory.

After I slid the shirt I’d slept in back on and stepped into my flip-flops, I ran into the living room at the same time Candice was coming out of her room. We grinned awkwardly at each other and she grabbed me in a big hug before we left the apartment. Bittersweet memories . . . but definitely the best way to start off this day.

TURNING OFF MY car, I wiped the tears from under my eyes and tried to catch my breath from laughing too hard. “Oh my word, Candice, I had completely forgotten about that.”

“You forgot about that?! How? Seriously, your dad was the funniest guy I knew!” She fanned at her tear- streaked face and we both got out of my car.

After breakfast and pedicures, we’d gone back to the apartment, taken showers, and gotten ready for the day. We went window-shopping at an outdoor mall called The Domain, not only because we couldn’t afford much of anything from those shops anyway but because it was another thing we’d done with my mom. She’d take us to Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills just for the fun of looking at everything. We never once bought anything, just browsed. And since Rodeo Drive was a little too far to get to this year, the pricey shops at The Domain were our replacements.

Once we got our fill of browsing, we went to the movies, picked a comedy, and got the biggest tub of popcorn and three boxes. Candice and I filled the boxes with popcorn and we each sat one on our lap, placed one on the seat next to her, and put the tub of popcorn next to me. My dad always said he was the man so he got to hold the tub, but really he just wanted all the extra butter that was sitting in it; we just let him think we never figured him out. Their popcorn remained untouched, as it had every August nineteenth over the last three years, and when Candice saw my face when we went to throw the leftover popcorn away, she immediately picked back up telling funny stories about my parents and kept it up all the way home.

“You remember when he taught all of us how to slide on the hardwood like Tom Cruise?” I said as we walked to our unit.

Candice threw her head back and laughed loudly. “Oh God, we spent hours learning how to do that. We were all so bruised from falling! Didn’t you get hurt?”

“Dislocated my shoulder.”

“That’s right! I’m still really good at that. I wish we had hardwood floors in our apartment.”

I laughed and searched for the key to our door. “Yeah . . . I haven’t done that in years.” My eyebrows scrunched together when Candice began walking over to Kash and Mason’s apartment. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled knowingly at me and her eyes began watering for a completely different reason when she held her hand over her heart. “Love you, Rach. Miss them.”

She was going to leave me for Mason on a night like tonight? “Love you back,” I whispered, and walked inside, screaming when I turned to find Kash standing right there. “For real! You need a freakin’ bell on you— Oooh, it smells good in here.”

He laughed low and pulled me close to whisper against my lips, “My Sour Patch.”

I growled unimpressively at him and he smiled. He knew I couldn’t stand that name, but I’m sure that’s why he continued to call me that. I would have preferred something like fiancee, but we still hadn’t told anyone in the few days since we’d been back and only talked about it during the nights we were in bed with each other. He wanted to wait until I had a ring, but a piece of jewelry didn’t make a difference to me. I just hadn’t realized how terrified I would be for Candice to find out. Well, not so much Candice as her cousin . . . and somehow I knew that if the Jenkinses knew, he would know as well. Mentally shaking off thoughts of Blake, I focused on my fiance, who was now leading us into the kitchen.

“How has today been for you so far?”