Page 30 of The Wanderer

"What are you going to do?"

"Fucked if I know." His mouth twisted with resentment as he eased away and she had her answer. He didn’t want comforting, which was probably a good thing because anything she could offer would be lame and ineffectual in the face of his dilemma. "The thing is, I can't see how seeing him face to face is going to change anything. He'll always be a selfish asshole to me. But then I think about how shitty I'd feel if he died before I got to say a bunch of stuff…"

"Then I think you've just figured out what you need to do." She rested her palm against his cheek. A simple gesture she hoped would convey that she understood and wished she could do more. “Make time to see him. You might purge the past and move forward. At the very least you’ll get to voice your opinion. And who knows, you might even find yourself reconnecting—"

"Not going to happen," he said, through gritted teeth, his lips flattening. "But yeah, I think it's time."

"Do you want to do it now?"

"Hell no." He pulled her into his arms again and squished so hard she could barely breathe. "Thanks for listening. I'm not a sharer but it felt good to get all that off my chest."

Hope hugged him and they stood that way for a long time. She’d never been into overt displays of affection as a kid—no great surprise considering her folks considered an air kiss on birthdays more than enough—but conveying her support by wrapping Logan in her arms felt good. They may not be indulging in anything more than a fling but she hoped he derived some comfort from confiding in her and knowing she’d happily be his sounding board if needed.

When he released her, he stared at her with a tenderness that made her ache and want to hug him all over again.

"You sure you don't want to call your dad now?"

"No. I want to do something else."

She couldn’t fathom the determined spark in his eyes but it was better than the pain of the last few minutes. “What?”

He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "I want to do what I should've done last night with you.”

His tongue traced the whorl of her ear in a slow, deliberate swipe. “And it doesn't involve watching a footy replay."

Hope almost felt guilty as relief seeped through her. This, she could do. She understood their intense physical connection. The riotous confusion of emotions his confiding in her elicited, not so much.

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow and struck a provocative pose with her hand on her hip, responding in kind to his switch to playful.

His wicked laugh rippled over her, loaded with intent. "Ever checked into a hotel for a quickie?"

A wave of heat swamped her at the thought, pooling in her cheeks that had to be a beacon for the ripple of excitement making her skin pebble. "No."

His fingertip grazed her blazing cheek before trailing along her jaw, her chin, eventually tracing her bottom lip with deliberate lightness. "Well, we're in the heart of the city, surrounded by a billion hotels, so why don't we save the laneways tour for another time?"

The old Hope would've been appalled by such a suggestion. But the new Hope she'd become through releasing her old insecurities one layer at a time leapt at the raunchy thought of ducking into a hotel with the sole intention of having sex.

"These laneways aren't going anywhere," she said, glancing at him coyly from beneath lowered lashes. "We should definitely do our bit for inner city tourism and check into a hotel."

"I love how spontaneous you are," he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her close for a quick kiss that did little to assuage the sudden burning of her body. "Let's go find the nearest one."

She didn't have to be asked twice and they almost stumbled from the dark laneway in their quest to find the nearest hotel. Thankfully, it wasn't far; they spotted the sign on the corner of the next block at the same time.

"Fortuitous," she said, at the same time he said, "Fate."

They laughed and picked up the pace, almost bounding up the three concrete steps and pushing through a heavy glass door into a cool interior. The lobby had a shabby, understated elegance to it, like an old lady who'd seen better days. Faded chintz sofas strategically bracketed mahogany coffee tables, with fringed lamps casting a warm glow. The polished parquetry floor had seen better days, as had the brass check-in desk, but Hope didn't care.

All she cared about was getting naked with Logan as fast as humanly possible.

"Be right back," he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it.

As Hope watched him check in, her impatience growing as the receptionist dropped his credit card twice, she wondered what had gotten into her but not caring because soon it would be him.

Chapter Fifteen

The hotel was a dive.

Logan had stayed in fancier places in small towns around the country. But he needed to obliterate the ache clawing at his chest like a trapped animal desperate to escape that talking about his father had elicited; and sex with Hope was guaranteed to do that.

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