Page 124 of Snared Rider

He’d said that and worse, but the homicidal glint in Logan’s eyes makes me feel uneasy, so I downplay it.

“He didn’t mean it; he was pissed off I wasn’t coming back for some stupid event.”

“Did you tell him you had an accident? That you can’t travel? What about the fact you’re here for your own safety?”

I grunt at him. “I told him about the crash. I didn’t mention Wilson and the fact he tried to kill me and Dean. How could I? He might call the police.”

Which was most definitely not an accident.

“The man is an idiot, sweetheart. I mean, not that I can talk—I’ve done my share of stupid.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, “I seem to be really good at attracting men who don’t really give two shits about me.”

The growl that comes from Logan’s throat is frightening. He moves so he’s in front of me on the bed, his hands either side of my shoulders against the headboard, his face inches from mine. “I always gave a shit about you. Never once did that stop. Ever. Even in the past decade when you treated me like I didn’t exist. It kills me that you think it.”

I scan his face, memorising every inch of it in case this is the last time I’m up close and personal with him.

Then, I deliver my blow.

“But you left me,” I whisper.

And I see the physical pain my words cause him as it ripples across his face.

He dips his head towards me and I hear his breath rasp out. “Yeah, I did. And I’m sorry for that.” He takes another shaky breath, trying to regain control. “I love you, Beth. With everything I am, I love you. And I hope like fuck you can forgive what I did because the thought of not having you in my life is more than I can stand.”

He… loves me?

He LOVES me?

Jesus Christ, Logan loves me.

Fireworks explode in my head but I try to claw hold of reason. He loved me before and he still hurt me.

But I’m helpless to resist when he takes my face in his hands and stares into my eyes.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’ve always been mine.” His forehead rests against my temple, his breath hot against my face. “I screwed things up, but I’m not letting you go this time. I can’t let you go.”

My chest aches and I feel like I’m breaking in two at his confession.

“Logan, I can’t do this.” My words catch in my throat. “I can’t do us.”

The look on his face is pure agony and I hate that it’s there. I hate that I’m causing it.

“Beth, baby… don’t give up on us. Please. Give me the chance to show you I can be everything you need.”

As I stare into his eyes, I realise I’m at crossroads, that my next actions here will determine my future.

Our future.

And it is a future I want with him.

Oh, God, I wish I didn’t. I wish I could walk away and leave him behind, but I can’t. For ten years I’ve held onto the hope that this day might come, that we might find our way back to each other. Common sense tells me not to go there, not to risk it again, but my heart is fully in command of my head.

I don’t think or second guess. I don’t analyse my actions and what consequence they will have; I act on instinct.

I lean forward, closing the small gap between us and press my lips to his.

He goes solid. His whole body jolts with the movement and I start to pull back. He stops me, his fingers encircling my wrists, holding me in place.

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