Page 83 of Perfect Playbook

It’s rare people are given an opportunity like this, one to turn around their biggest regret.

Shay is mine once again. And I’m never going to let her go.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I wake up with a secure,strong manly body spooning me from behind.

I said yes. What does that even mean? Did I say yes to sex? Or something else? I don’t even know, but uncertainty doesn’t stop the sense of warmth and calm that consumes me. Logan breathes deeply and soundly, spooning me from behind, and I don’t want to stir him, I know he’s always suffered from insomnia and it’s beautiful to hear him rest.

But the clock on the side of the bed blares it’s five thirty-eight, so it will go off in seven minutes anyway. I need to shower, pack the cakes, and then Nino will be back at seven so I can kiss him before Ileave.

I need a shower first but I don’t want one. I love the way Logan and I smell together. I’m sure if anyone else came in here, they’d just smell dirty sex, but I smell something different. A second chance.

Still, there’s no way I could withstand the scent of Logan on me and concentrate on the road for nearly twelve hours all the way to LA.

I spin myself around to kiss him good morning but I’m not greeted by his handsome face. Cayenne lies on Logan like his head is the most comfy bed he’s ever had.

“Oh my God…” I try not to laugh.

Logan’s voice is muffled. “He’s only been here the last hour.”

“Why don’t you shoo him off?”

“I’m trying to make friends.”

I sit up and pull my cat upward off Logan’s face, then place him on the other side of the bed next to me. Cayenne paces up and down and gives Logan the evil eye.

We both stare at the cat.

“I’m sorry to say, Lo, I’m not sure your olive branch worked.”

“It’s not a good sign, is it?” He scoops me into his arms, laying my head on his chest. “Your cake is amazing. They’re going to be happy with it for sure.”

“Yeah.” I’m not thinking of my cake. Still, I say, “I hope so.”

“Iknowso.”

“Mmm.”

As Nino’s special day approaches, the cake and even Logan fade subtly in the background of my mind. My thoughts are on campus at Longbrook where I envision my son getting lost on one of the many trails. I know they said he’d have peers helping and a dedicated mentor, but it wasso hard to leave him at the school gates in my own home town, in a school full of children whose parents I know and who know me. Everyone looks out for one another, for better or worse, here in the Canyon. But Longbrook…

Logan smooths hair behind my ear. “Talk to me.”

“This is nothing talking will solve.”

“Nino?”

The sound of my little boy’s name draws a whimper up my throat and a sting to the bridge of my nose. “Yeah,” I wheeze. I try to hold it back but I can’t.

Reality strikes hard and hot and drips out of my eyeballs in wet trickles of guilt. They splat on Logan’s chest. I don’t usually cry in front of other people. I try not to. But I’m emotional from last night and also sleep-deprived. There’s no time to take myself off to a corner and let it out in private, so here we are.

Feeling the wetness, he pulls me up to look at him.

“Hey.” Logan swipes a tear off my cheek. “You can talk about it with me.”

I scrunch my face, annoyed with myself for not holding it together, but I just can’t. “I want to have a successful business but not at the expense of my son. I’m sorry. It’s just… I feel like such a bad mom not being there for him today.”

I expect Logan to tell me not to feel that way. So many other times I felt guilty about something or other, my dad would say not to let myself feel that way. As always, men just can’t understand.

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