Page 45 of Whatever You Want

I followed him through the house, which consisted of a small galley kitchen and an open family room that extended into a dining room. He had the table decorated with candles and a bottle of wine. I thought it was sweet that he put that much thought and effort into tonight.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

“I would love one.”

He poured my wine in a glass, handed it to me, and fetched a beer out of the fridge for himself. “This is a cute little house,” I said, taking a seat on the couch and looking around. I picked up a piece of cheese that he had set on the table along with a few crackers.

“Thanks! It was a real fixer-upper when I bought it.” He set his beer down on the glass table and plopped a cracker in his mouth. “I left the house to Vanessa in the divorce. I wanted Brina to grow up in a nice home. That left me with little money to work with. I guess it’s a good thing I’m good with my hands and don’t mind doing a few small projects.”

I shifted my attention to the spot in the corner with a desk and a bookshelf with a blend of books, board games, and crafts. Logan’s house was simple, but it was clean and lived in. It was a home, one that he put thought into, knowing his daughter would be spending time here.

“I love it. It’s cozy.”

“Right.” He stood up, looking uncomfortable. “I should probably get the steaks on the grill.”

“What can I do to help?” I asked, following him into the kitchen.

“You can grab the salad out of the fridge.” He looked at his watch. “The baked potatoes are in the oven but still have a few minutes to go.”

“Got it.” I walked over to the fridge and smiled at all the artwork and school pictures of Brina covering the door. Once I got everything assembled, I placed it on the table and waited for Logan to finish up with the grill outside. Only he didn’t come back in. It felt like he was avoiding me, so I poured myself another drink to take the edge off.

When he finally did make it back inside, our dinner conversation was forced and awkward. Something was seriously bothering him, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He was polite but cautious with his words. He didn’t crack one joke, and I hated how cordial this felt. He was wound tight, like one little tug and he would come undone.

Finally, I set my silverware down and decided I had enough. “Logan, what’s going on?”

I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what I could have said to cause this much tension.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I’m trying not to screw this up. I know we’re walking a thin line here, I just wish I knew where that line was. I know you haven’t been with anyone since Drew.” He swallowed hard and studied my reaction. My heart tangled up at the emotion in his eyes. “I’m not sure where your head is at or what you want. I just want you to know there are no expectations. You set whatever pace you’re comfortable with and I’ll follow.”

I angled my body closer to his. “You’ve been more than patient with me, but I’m not made of glass, Logan. I’m not going to break.” I brought my fingers up to his cheek. “Am I a little nervous, yes, but not for the reason you think. I don’t need more time. I want to be with you. I’m just scared of the unknown. I’m scared of putting my heart out there again.”

He brought my hand up to his lips and froze when they touched my wedding ring. I dropped my hand so fast you would have thought it was on fire. I forced a steady breath, trying to even out my breathing. Guilt swirled in my gut, and it couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time.

“I’m sorry.” There was worry in his eyes as I curled my hand under my thigh.

“It’s fine,” I lied, and he knew it. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel worse than he already did. But the reality was these feelings were a constant ebb and flow, and for every upward turn, there was a downward spiral.

“Don’t lie to me, Ava.” He pulled my hand out from underneath my legs and stroked his thumb along my wrist. “We need to be honest with each other if this is going to work.”

He was right. I couldn’t keep these feelings bandaged up forever. If we were going to move forward, I needed to be candid about my fears. He deserved the truth.

“Before I say this, I want you to know that this isn’t a competition.” I let out a slow exhale. “I was with the same man for ten years, but when I’m with you,” I wiped a tear that escaped my eye, “I feel things I’ve never felt before, and that scares me for many different reasons. The way you kiss me with such passion, the way your arms make me feel safe, everything about you is just different. I don’t want to disrespect my husband because we had a good marriage. If Drew were still alive, we would probably still be together, but he’s not. You’re here, and I’m happy. And I refuse to feel guilty about that.”

Those damn tears started to fall, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. He gathered me up and placed me on his lap. His arm snaked around me and held me tight. I felt vulnerable, like I was leaving my heart unguarded, but if I trusted anyone to keep it safe, it was Logan.

“Tell me about him.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my temple.

“What?” I asked, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“You never talk about him. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide that part of your life from me.”

Resting my head against his chest, I wasn’t sure where to begin. Would he draw the wrong conclusions? Would I say the wrong thing? Why did this conversation feel like a betrayal to both men?

I pulled my head back so I could look into his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you meet?” His thumb stroked along my cheek.

“We met during our sophomore year of college. Drew and his baseball buddies strolled into the café acting like they were too cool for school.” I laughed at the memory. “I was studying for a math exam and he approached me with these cheesy pickup lines. Like most jocks, he was a known player around campus who didn’t like being told no. He eventually wore me down, and used to tell everyone that I made him work for every date we went on. We eventually spent more and more time together. I started showing up at all his games and he ended up spending every night in my dorm room because the baseball house he lived in was disgusting,” I added, trying to bring a little light to the conversation.

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