Page 77 of Becoming Selfish

I let out a long sigh of relief. That’s it? That’s what she was worried about telling me?

“Okay,” I state as I lean forward to kiss her lips while her eyes are still closed.

They instantly shoot open. “Okay? That’s it?”

“Okay...yeah, that’s about it.” I nod my head.

“It doesn’t bother you?” she asks, searching my face with confusion plastered on hers.

“Should it bother me?” I haven’t been with a virgin since I was a sophomore in high school, but honestly, it doesn’t bother me one bit. Surprising maybe, because look at her. She’s absolutely stunning, and the fact that no one has tried to fuck her yet is mind-blowing.

“It bothers most guys,” she states matter-of-factly.

“Well then, I guess I’m not most guys. I already told you this wasn’t just about sex for me.” I pull her closer, trying to keep my eyes focused on her face and not on her chest that’s currently pressed up against me and spilling out of her black satin bra.

She pauses, seeming utterly lost and confused. “Do you have any questions?” Her grip tightens on my hip.

“Is there a reason you’ve waited?” I continue to stroke her hair.

“I just wanted it to be with someone that I feel a connection with. Someone I trust.”

“You had a boyfriend, right? You guys never—”

“No,” she cuts me off. “I didn’t trust him, and for a good reason. He cheated on me.” Logan pulls her gaze from mine.

“You’re shitting me. What a fucking idiot.” My voice and body temperature rise. How could someone hurt this girl like that? She’s too good to be treated that way.

“I don’t know. I get it.” Her cheeks turn rosy. She’s so bad at defending herself. She’s literal fucking perfection, and she has no clue. “Honestly, I don’t really blame him. I was in a weird headspace with my mom being sick, and I just couldn’t get there physically with him.”

“No, Logan. He’s an idiot. There’s no valid reason for someone to cheat. Anyone who would let you slip through their fingers is a fucking moron,” I reassure her, wanting her to understand my words and how much she deserves.

It’s all starting to make sense, her hesitation with me. Her not wanting to forgive me after I fucked up last weekend after we kissed. God, I feel even worse now than I already did. She has trust issues, and I basically told her not to trust me the second we got involved.

“Is this from him?” I ask, brushing my fingers across her collarbone. Stopping at her tattoo that says, ‘I love you.’

“No. No, I never loved him.” She shakes her head as relief washes over me. “I’ve never been in love before,” she adds, looking into my eyes, trying to tell me more than just her words can. “This is my dad’s handwriting. It was taken from the last birthday card he gave to my mom before he died.” She reaches her hand up and places it on mine, covering the inked words, as her stunning green eyes pour into mine.

Everything in my body melts. I’ve wondered what this tattoo meant since the first night we met. I didn’t think it would have such a sweet and sentimental meaning behind it. It represents the only two people she has ever loved, and I pray to god I’ll get to be the third.

I hold Logan’s stare before I lean in and kiss her jaw, trailing wet kisses down her neck until I gently place my lips against her collarbone, kissing the black ink. She reaches her hand up to the back of my head and holds me while I wrap my arm tighter around her waist. I nuzzle my forehead into the crook of her neck and just lie with her for a while.

Everything I’ve learned about Logan today has been overwhelming, but beautiful. It makes me sad that she’s been scared to share these sides of herself with anyone, but I’m honored to be the man who gets to see the real her.

I wait a few minutes and bask in her embrace, filling my nostrils with her sweet scent, before changing the subject back to the prick that hurt her.

“So, this douchebag ex of yours...how long were you guys together?” I pull away to look at her.

“About nine months.”

I’m trying to gauge her reaction to talking about her ex. I don’t want to press her if it’s difficult for her to talk about, but honestly, she seems like she doesn’t give a fuck about the guy.

“And how did you find out that he cheated on you?”

“I went to his apartment the night I had to say goodbye to my mom, and I found my friend’s bra on his bedroom floor,” she states matter-of-factly.

“It was with your friend?” My eyes widen, and my mouth parts. This guy is the worst.

“Yeah,” she says, without an ounce of sadness in her voice.

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