Page 61 of Snared Rider

“You shut yourself out the day you let me go without a reason.”

“There were reasons.”

“Yeah, and the time to explain those reasons was back then, Logan. There’s nothing you can say now that will change what happened and honestly, why you did it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past, done. We can never go back to what we were, but you are right: it’s time for me to stop being mad at you and move on.”

He stares at me, his expression unreadable before muttering, “Fuck.”

Then, he starts towards me and I hold up both hands defensively. Surprisingly, he stops in his tracks.

“Don’t!”

“Just let me explain.”

“Like you gave me the chance to have my say back then?”

His expression is pained.

“Logan, you chose to walk away how you did and you can’t take that back.” I shake my head and laugh dryly. “What’s done is done. I’m tired of living in the past. So yeah, I’ll stop punishing you. It won’t be that hard because we’re nothing to each other and I’ve moved on.” That last point might be an exaggeration, but one problem at a time.

“Don’t do this.”

“I have to. I need to find my happy.”

“I can make you happy.”

I give him a sad smile. “A long time ago I thought that was true. Now, I know that’s not the case.” I let out a long-suffering breath. “I understand you have a duty to protect me while this stuff is sorting itself out. I’ll do whatever you need me to while that’s going on, but our relationship, our friendship is done.”

His jaw clenches and he closes the space between us, moving so fast I instinctively back up until my spine hits the wall. His left hand comes to the side of my head, his right near my shoulder pinning me in. His body is huge this close and I feel claustrophobic caged between his arms and chest. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about my discomfort. He just dips his head to meet my gaze.

“I fucked up, Beth. I get that. I didn’t know what I’d lost until you were gone. I didn’t really even realise what I’d lost until I saw you in that hospital bed banged up after coming face-to-face with death. And I’m sorry, love, because I really want to do what you’re asking and back off—believe me I do, but I can’t. I’m going to do whatever the hell I have to do to prove to you that I’m worth taking a risk on again.”

He bends down and for a moment I think he will devour my mouth. For a moment, I want him to.

But he doesn’t.

He presses his lips to my cheek. I can’t help it. I melt into his touch and when he pulls away I feel bereft. And I hate myself for feeling anything for him because I don’t want that longing. I want to be free of him, I want to move on. I really do want to find my happy, and that is not with Logan.

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. He carefully slides one off the ring. I know I should move from the wall, out from under him, but I can’t make my legs work. So, I stand and watch him as he seizes my hand, uncurls my fingers and presses the key into my open palm.

“If you want to rest I’m in room six. It’s on the left side as you go upstairs.”

I lift my gaze from the key in my hand. “I’m not coming to your room for a romp, Logan.”

I see the hint of a smile before he covers it. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Okay, well, while I’m in your room, where the hell will you be?”

“In my office. I told you, B, I’ve got work to do.” He dips his head close and I freeze, barely breathing at his proximity. “Go to my room, stay here and watch television, or hang in the bar. You can do whatever the fuck you want, as long as you stay inside the clubhouse. I doubt Wilson’s stupid enough to attack us here, but you never fucking know.”

Wilson, I’m guessing, is the gunman. Before I can ask, however, Logan leans down and kisses my forehead. Then, he’s out the door leaving me—once again—dumbstruck.

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