Read Online Two Roads by L.M. Augustine - Free Book Online

of course. I’ve stamped on a lot of feet, kicked a bunch of stomachs, flat-out punched more than I care to admit, and so on, but at the same time, the terror does not ever leave. I’m anything but a badass, but when it comes to fending off horny guys? Let’s just say that the only place those guys ended up was the ground--and not in the way they wanted.
    It’s scary, though. To me, sex with these random strangers feels wrong--and not in the “so wrong, it’s right” kind of way. I’m talking just flat-out, disgusting-feeling kind of wrong. It’s like a part of me is holding out for someone, is waiting for the right person to trust with my heart like that, which is ridiculous because I doubt I can ever trust anyone with my heart again. Not when death just rips it right back out.
    I lick some of the remaining chocolate ice cream off of my lips, trying to distract myself, as I jog past a grocery store, past a DVD store, and then turn the corner onto the road where my apartment is located. I slow, taking a breath, and start to speed up again when someone steps out of the shadows.
    I almost jump--almost--half-thinking Creeper Boy has somehow returned, but then I recognize Logan standing there.
    For one long instant, seeing him feels like the most comforting thing in the world. Everything stops when I look at Logan. The pounding of my heart, the fear, the worry--it all leaves--because when it comes to this bastard, it’s only our rivalry that matters. I hate him, I hate him so damn much, but he is different than most guys. He doesn’t look at me like Creeper Boy did with all that lust-filled arrogance. He smirks at me, sure, but there is a certain warmth to it, a welcomeness that is so freaking relieving and I just want to take four seconds away from everything else, to just sit down beside him and say nothing, do nothing, feel nothing but him.
    Logan is safe.
    But Logan also pisses me the hell off.
    “Fancy meeting you here,” I say, narrowing my eyes. My face falls effortlessly into a sneer.
    Logan leans against the side of a building, his dark falling over the tips of his forehead, his arms crossed over his “I’m not being obtuse, but you’re acute girl” math pick-up line t-shirt. I almost roll my eyes when I read it--so corny and exactly like Logan. He holds his phone in his hand, and he looks at me without emotion, his eyebrows furrowed.
    “Yes,” he says slowly. “Fancy.”
    “Your voice makes me sick,” I say and stop walking altogether. I decide to let myself sink into insulting him, because insulting Logan Waters feels good, feels safe and endearing.
    “And your eyes are like bullet holes.” He gives me a sweet smile, and my traitorous self can’t help but enjoy it. The intensity between us gets turned up as I step forward, eyes locked on his, and I can’t explain it but everything else seems to melt away.
    “You disgust me,” I say.
    “You make me weep for humanity,” he says right back.
    “I hate your personality.”
    “And I hate your lack of one.”
    “Your parents hate you.”
    “Your mother wishes you were dead.”
    “You have friends who don’t even care about you.”
    “And you have no one.”
    Our back-and-forth keeps picking up speed, and I feel myself smile as I focus on him and his words and our mutual hate.
    “You’re going to be a failure in life.”
    “You’re going to spend yours cooped up in the basement of your mom’s house.”
    “Your heart is going to be broken by a boy.”
    “And no girl will ever go for you.”
    “I hate you,” he says.
    “I hate you more.”
    “I wish you were dead.”
    “And I wish I didn’t have to look at your horrible eyelashes all the time.”
    “You make me miserable.”
    “And that makes me happy.
    I stop then, glaring at him, and he matches it. He cocks his head to the side, winks at me. “Aww I’m sorry, did I hurt your precious little feelings? I can go easier on you next time, if you want.”
    I step toward him. “I