Page 31 of A Reputation Dark & Deadly

Logan's eyes were caught on her mouth. He seemed captivated by something, perhaps a little surprised. She hoped she didn't have anything caught in her teeth.

"You're fucking weird, you know that," he told her. "You could have gotten a fucking A in class" -

"What makes you think I won't get an A in your class?" Peyton challenged as the car came to a pause. They were starting to enter Old Newport, a small portion of the beach city left untouched by progress and change. It looked the same it had back at the turn of the century, back in the early nineteen hundreds, just with much more urbanization and less orange groves. Even the traffic lights hung from wires rather than street poles.

"Probably you're fucking attitude," he told her though there was a teasing glint in his eye she noticed.

"I thought you liked women who spoke their mind and could have an intelligent conversation with you," Peyton pointed out. "Maybe you're just not used to one who won't put up with your bullshit."

Logan gave her a sharp look as the light flickered to green and he removed his foot from the brake and pushed it on the drive. "And what that supposed to fucking mean?" he asked.

"You have a type, Logan," she told him, settling into her chair. "Everyone knows it. I knew about your rules before I even met you, before Karla even sat me down to talk to me about them."

"A rule you fucking broke," he snapped as he turned.

"You didn't seem to mind it," she snapped.

His eyes caught hers even though he was driving. "Yeah, and neither did you," he said.

It was deja vu, this conversation. Peyton wasn't sure what she was trying to prove and she didn't know what he was trying to prove, either. All she did know was that she needed to push this conversation until she found an answer. The only problem was, she barely knew the question she was asking and had no idea what to expect for an answer.

"You know what I want to know," Logan continued, shifting his eyes from the road over to Peyton and then back out to the road. "Why are you so fucking interested in my sex life? You don't even like me, sweetheart. Why do you fucking care if I'm fucking someone or not?"

Peyton felt her brow furrowed and the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You're fucking someone now?" she asked, her voice almost shrill and most definitely sharp.

Logan immediately pulled into the empty parking lot to the Old Newport Jail. He slid into a parking stall relatively close to the main entrance, which was where Logan's brother would be meeting them within the next ten minutes.

"What if I told you I was?" he asked as he turned off the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. He shifted in his seat so he faced her, his eyes taking on a darker hue in the shadows. They were bright but not because he was happy. It almost looked like the light pole's bright light was reflecting on them. His demeanor changed from easy and relaxed to intent and tense and Peyton felt her own body shift to match his. "What if I fucking told you I was fucking somebody else? That I made her moan every goddamn night when I went home? That she scratched my back and screamed my fucking name."

"You never take girls back to your place," Peyton pointed out through gritted teeth.

"I took you back to my place the night you got shitfaced," he pointed out.

"I know," Peyton said. She felt her own anger start to rise and she couldn't help but take on a tone as she continued to speak to him. "That's what I don't understand. I kiss you and you don't do anything to me except kiss me back. You take me back to your place when I can barely walk. Hell, the fact that you came for me at all. You aren't making any sense and I don't know how to feel about that."

"It's not my job to fucking figure out your emotions," Logan said. "That's your fucking job."

"Yeah, well, you're not making it any easier," she replied.

He was silent for a moment, taking her in. His eyes dropped to her chest as she breathed in and out before dropping back to her eyes. "You never answered my question, sweetheart," he told her, his voice still possessing an edge but it was much lower making it that much more dangerous. "How would you feel if I was fucking someone?"

"My feelings don't matter to you," Peyton told him, her voice cold and unflinching. "Don't pretend that they do. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want but I don't care. It's not going to make a difference to me."

"You're a fucking liar," Logan said, his eyes cutting and sharp, like a knife. "I know you care."

"If you know, then why ask me at all?" Peyton asked. "Why do you need to hear me say it? Is it supposed to stroke your ego? Is it something you want to hear? Because I'm not going to tell you something just because it's what you want to hear."

"I want you to fucking tell me because you need to hear the goddamn truth," he said, his voice low, with a jagged edge to it. "That you might actually fucking like me and I'm a lot more fucking charming than you give me credit for. That you want to fucking kiss me again. That, despite your feminist bullshit, you wanted me to notice you in that fucking miniskirt. You wanted to show me your fucking legs because you know how fucking much I like your legs. Stop fucking pretending to be this innocent girl who doesn't fucking care. I know you do. What the fuck are you so afraid of?"

"Take your own advice, then," Peyton snapped, hoping her voice didn't come at as shaky as it sounded. "You want me to admit to all these things but the truth of the matter is you like me too. Not just that you want to fuck me, which you do, but you actually like me. You like my company. You like being around me. And that's why you've been weird and distant, because you have feelings for me. And you have no idea what you're doing because having feelings for someone goes against your nature."

There was a heavy silence between the two of them. All they did was stare at each other, neither willing to budge even just a little bit.

"Fine," Peyton said, rolling her eyes. "I'll go first. To answer your question, I would be a little put off if I found out you were sleeping with someone. But it wouldn't hurt because I know it wouldn't mean anything." His brow shot up in disbelief and Peyton looked away. "Fine. It would hurt a little." Her eyes snapped into his. "Your turn."

Logan furrowed his brow. "My turn for what?" he asked.

"Your turn to tell me the truth about you," she said. Logan shook his head.