For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

52: A Quest For Truth

I glanced over my shoulder, feeling guilty even as I was doing it. It wasn't as if Dylan had told me not to go to Logan's. And it also wasn't as if I thought he was following me. Yet I found myself feeling worse with every step down the smock-scented hallway. I could have turned around, probably should have, but I didn't behind the penis decorated door was the only hope at easing my mind.

It'd only been two days since the dinner date with Dylan, but I couldn't get it off my mind. Maver had said he didn't know Dylan. Dylan had specifically said he'd heard so much about me from Maver. Who was lying, and why?

I'd sat across from my charming boyfriend, my mind on high alert, as we sared a conversation any couple would share. We talked about what we did during the day, shared little interesting stories about friends. . . all the while I was watching for some sign. What sign, I had no idea. But he was all his usual smoothness, knowing next to everything about me.

How could he know so much if not from Maver? No guy was that slick without a little inside help. We had similar interests, both had the same taste in food and seemed to be on equal standing for our conversation quips. It was as if someone had written an "Ideal Boyfriend" manual and he'd read it multiple times, commiting it to memory.

So why was I so miserable?

If Dylan was telling the truth than Maver was lying to me. Why he would lie I had no idea. It didn't make any sense. The only way I could set my mind at ease was to ask him. Calling wasn't an option. We could have just had a miscommunication on the phone to begin with, and a second could prove disasterous. Maybe. . . . I didn;t have a sentance to pair with that 'maybe' but it was all that was holding me back from having a panice attack.

I had a right to be paranoid, I convinced myself. Brent had already muddled with Lucas. What if someone else was muddling with Dylan? What if it was Brent himself? If nothing was going on and I accused Dylan of something like decieving me I'd feel guilty forever. I knew how it felt to be assumed guilty for something I hadn't done.

Just as I reached out to open the door it swung inwards on its own, revealing a flash of Logan. Following my brief glimpse came the man himself, nearly toppling me to the ground as he stepped out. In my brief three seconds of awareness to what was happening I managed to realize he had his eyes over his shoulder, head turned and his beautiful black hair under his hand as he ruffled it. All in all I came to the instant conclusion he was not paying an iota of attention to where he was going.

Unfortunately my half step back came in tune with his full stride forward. I stumbled back, his added momentum sending me backwards rather than towards the ground, and I toppled towards the wall. He hastily reached out, instinct kicking in upon realizing hed run into someone, and his large hands clamped roughly onto my shoulders. With a thud my head smackd against the wall, the rest of me saved by Logan's fast acting.