Page 89 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

The bed was empty next to me, the sheets still warm, though, so he must have just gotten up.

I stretched my arms above my head, loving the delicious soreness in every muscle of my body after the night we’d just had.

Swinging my legs to the side, I moved to get out of bed. And then I paused?—

I didn’t want to leave. I was afraid that once my feet hit the floor, the magic of this world Logan had built around us…it would disappear.

The door creaked, and a second later Logan was coming into the room, shirtless, holding a tray filled with delicious-smelling food.

A different kind of hunger was stirring inside me as I took in his tattooed chest.

“You can have all of that you want as soon as I get food in you,” he teased with an easy smile.

And something inside me cracked.

The tears came before I could stop them, hot and sudden, and I wiped at my eyes, embarrassed.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting down the tray, his brow furrowing with concern. “What’s wrong, baby?”

I shook my head, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “I—” My voice caught, and I had to swallow hard before I could get the words out. “I slept. Logan, Isleptlast night.”

He frowned, not understanding. “You slept?”

My voice was shaking as I explained. “I never sleep. I—my mind doesn’t shut off. I haven’t had a night without insomnia, without nightmares inyears.” The tears kept coming, my heart on full display. “But last night…after being with you…I actually slept.”

His eyes softened, and he sat down on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “Sloane,” he said gently, his voice low, calming. “Maybe your body is finally believing what your mind doesn’t yet—that you’re safe here. Safe with me.”

The tears spilled over, and I shook my head, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to feeling like this. I don’t even know how tobelike this.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over my skin. “Then let me show you. Let me show you what you deserve. Let me take care of you—take care of everything.”

I collapsed into his chest, the sobs breaking free, my hands clutching his arms like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. And in that moment, I realized that maybe—just maybe—I could trust this. Trust him.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t fighting the dark. I wasn’t running away.

I was running straight toward it.

* * *

Logan slowed down as we approached the front door of Geraldine’s penthouse. His pace went from brisk to suspiciously sluggish. I raised an eyebrow, watching him shuffle forward like a man on death row.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, my heels clicking on the tile floor.

“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly.

He shot a glance at the door ahead, then back at me. There was a twitch in his jaw, and his hands were jammed into his pockets like he was resisting the urge to bolt.

“Logan?” I pressed. “Are you…nervous?”

His shoulders tensed, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously likeYou’ll see.

Before I could demand clarification, the door flew open, and a woman who could only be described as an eccentric hurricane of chiffon and sequins swept into view. Logan had told me Geraldine was pushing eighty, or possible there already…but the woman in front of me didn’t look like any eighty-year-old I’d ever met.

She was draped in a glittering gold gown that seemed to cascade like molten metal, its high neckline offset by a daring thigh slit. Her oversized earrings were shaped like chandeliers, swinging with every dramatic gesture she made, and a feathered capelet in deep emerald perched on her shoulders like she was ready to take flight.

Evidently, she hadn’t been kidding when she’d ordered us to “dress to impress,” as Logan had mentioned. I glanced down at my black cocktail dress…feeling wildly underdressed.

“My favorite boy!” she crowed, pulling Logan into an embrace that seemed more like a full-body tackle. She smacked a dramatic kiss on his cheek, leaving a crimson lipstick mark that he immediately tried to wipe off, his face a shade of pink I’d never seen before.

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