Logan turned and started across the lot to his rental, a new-model, shiny white Mustang. He had already started the keyless ignition when he stepped out of the restaurant, so the leather seats were growing warm by the time he pulled the door open and climbed in. He glanced back across the lot at the old blue Civic, feeling inexplicably . . . guilty. Or sad? Or . . . sorry for her, maybe. No, that wasn’t right.
It was a dull sort of ache. Compassion? Was this what compassion felt like? He shook the unfamiliar feeling, turning up the Bose sound system to drown out his thoughts.
Then he noticed, as he started to pull out of the parking lot, that there was no smoke coming from the exhaust of the waitress’ car. Heaving a sigh, he pulled in beside her and stepped out.
She was busy digging through her purse for something and didn’t seem to notice him, so he rapped briefly on the window.
She jumped like a frightened doe, clutching her hand over her heart. That hand held a toothbrush, he noticed with a hint of curiosity. She rolled down the window.
“Oh, gosh, you gave me a scare,” the waitress said, shivering from some mix of cold and fear, and Logan could hear her heart struggling to regain its normal rhythm.
He was getting awfully sick of that fear marring her enticing scent, keeping him from enjoying it. It seemed unfair, as if he were being deprived of something he deserved. He shook his head, shook that thought away. “Havin’ car trouble? You need a jump or somethin’?”
She set the toothbrush down, and he noticed that there was a beat-up duffle in her passenger seat. She sighed. “No, I don’t—it’s fine.”
He leaned into the car, spotting a blanket and some more clothes in the backseat. “You sure?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, really. Goodnight.”
Logan simply stood there.
When it became apparent he wasn’t going to accept that for an answer, she blurted, “My rent’s up, alright? I was gonna pay it tonight. I took my stuff outta the room, in case . . . just in case.” She gestured to the duffle. “Since I didn’t, y’know, get paid tonight, I can’t go back there. I’m just gonna . . .” she trailed off.
“You’re gonna . . . ?” he prompted, though he knew what she would say.
“Sleep in the car,” she muttered, keeping her eyes trained on the steering wheel. Embarrassment overrode the fear in her scent.
Stupid girl, he thought angrily, then regretted it. It didn’t seem right to say, to even think, those words about her. “You’ll freeze,” he said flatly. “You can’t stay in your car on a night like this.”
She swiped at her eyes. “Yeah, well I don’t have a lotta options,” she shot back, and for the first time he heard a trace of fire in her voice, something fierce inside her that life hadn’t managed to beat into submission just yet.
Logan shoved his hands in his pockets, debating whether to invite her back to his room. It was a very appealing option, but he was almost certain she would say no, and he didn’t want to face the sting of that rejection. Still, he couldn’t just leave her there.
A girl like her had to have other options, people she could go to. There had to be tons of people out there who wanted her, people who took care of her and missed her when she was gone. Even he had people like that. Chuck and the X-Men. “Don’t you . . . surely you’ve got some friends or family or somethin’. Somewhere you can stay for the night? I—I can’t just leave ya here in the parkin’ lot, darlin’.”
She sighed, swiping at her eyes once more. “Um, yeah, of course. I can go to—don’t worry. Really, I appreciate everything you did for me tonight. Don’t worry yourself. I’ve . . . got someone I can stay with.”
Liar.
She twisted the key in the ignition, and the engine finally turned over on the third try. She forced a smile as she started to roll up the window. “Thanks again. Bye, Mr. Logan.”
He breathed her in, faint traces of sweetness and sorrow dissipating into the night. “Bye.”
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