Page 52 of Unmistakably Us

Sadly, Logan was in the books, not in every way she hoped, but the damage was done. She couldn’t even begin to make it up to him and beg forgiveness until she solved the bigger issues. So, as much as she hated to do it, she moved that bit to the back burner, opting to move to the next.

Since her happiness or lack thereof, was tied directly to Gus’, she had to find a way they could both have the future they deserved.

For once, January saw that she did deserve that. Living under Melody’s rule for so long, January had accepted that happiness was not on her horizon. Logan though, Logan changed all that in what felt like a blink of an eye.

Of course, he was much more than that. It was his sleep confessions and waking secrets shared. It was in how he treated January different than Domino. Even treating family-time January different than private-time January.

Not because he was hiding their relationship out of shame or anything. It was more because he liked having it be just them. Raw and natural, not some social construct that had to follow rules.

Even before they started sleeping together, he’d treated her like she mattered. He talked to her about things other than how pretty she was or awkward small talk.

Logan seemed fascinated when he learned she was a mechanic. He thought it was pretty badass, actually. She’d entertained dreams of them having a shop together. Working on everything from small engines to airplanes. But that was all it was and all it would ever be, dreams. Dreams I’ll never see. “Ugh,” she groaned, “now I'm stealing song titles to describe my pathetic life.”

Her mother’s, “What was that, dear?” told her two things—she’d spoken too loud, and her mother was loitering around her door enjoying January’s misery and compliance.

Not bothering to answer, she rolled over and cried herself to sleep. She wasn’t going to be able to solve any problems in the emotional state she was in. The drive up to Enterprise would give her plenty of time to reflect. Being stuck in a car for three and a half hours with her parents didn’t make her want to clap her hands and jump up and down while screaming “oh, goody,” but she would make the most of it.

The most of it being getting her life back, getting Logan back, and keeping Gus from being hurt in the process. Sure, easy-peasy…not.

* * *

After being coaxedout of the strip club by the weirdest intervention team ever, Logan found himself at Michael and Tori’s place. He wasn’t happy about that little detail, but it made sense; their house was closest to the club. Logan would prefer anywhere but here. So many things were eating away at his soul right now, one being his conscience. Looking into his brother’s concerned eyes did nothing to decrease that gnawing.

The family photos of him and Tori and the dogs, the choice in art, even the throw pillows all reflected a bit of his brother and that was a punch to the gut.

How long could he sit here among their things and listen to these people go on about how much they cared about him and not say something? He was a dick, but he wasn’t that big of a dick.

Tori had sat him at the kitchen table and served him a fifth cup of black rot gut coffee. There weren’t too many things in life Logan splurged on, but coffee was one. Logan drank it down all the same. Must be that damned guilt working overtime.

His life had been much less chaotic and complicated when he didn’t give a shit. And a whole hell of a lot less painful too. “Damn it, why did I invite this fucking trouble into my life?”

“Because, dear, life without loving someone wholly and completely, at least once, isn’t really living. It’s just wandering around on this big ole planet in a shell wasting the gift the Good Lord gave ya.”

Francis’ words shocked Logan. For a second, he thought the stories about her were true because it seemed she’d read his thoughts. That shock must’ve translated to his face because Tori plopped into the chair across from him, curling on leg under her while bringing the other knee up chin level and embracing her warm mug like it was life.

“You’ve been mumbling into your coffee for five minutes straight, something about rot gut, love, and family. It was unintelligible for the most part until that last sentence.”

Tori’s eye twinkled with something he couldn’t identify as she eyed him over the rim of her oversized mug. After a healthy sip, her eyes slowly shuttered, and she made a moaning sound like it was the best thing to ever pass her lips. Francis rolled her eyes and excused herself from the room, leaving him alone with Tori. He was uncomfortable, at best. He felt like such an intruder in her life right now.

When her eyes opened, they held a challenge. “Good stuff, right?” Shit, she’d heard him insulting her coffee.

After raising his mug in salute, he downed the vile contents. “Yep,” he answered as he lowered the empty vessel to the table, hoping she wouldn’t refill it.

She rose and collected his cup. “Liar.” It was faint, but Logan heard it.

“Excuse me?” Panic was the only way to describe what he felt. If Tori knew, did Michael? Was this the real reason for this little intervention of sorts, to call him out on his lies instead of the whole January fiasco?

At his question, Tori turned from the sink where she deposited the mugs. Crossing her legs and arms, she leaned against the counter.

“I called you a liar, Logan Chapman.” Oh shit, oh, shit, oh shit.

“Tori…” What could he even say at this point? What would be the purpose of denial except to further add to his crimes?

“That is the most vile brew I’ve ever tasted, and you slammed five cups. Either your taste buds are on a permanent vacation or you’re a liar, so which is it? Now, before you answer, I happen to know you have excellent taste, I mean, you joined up with this crew. Not to mention you fell for a chick so beautiful, she could make me consider batting for the other team at least once, so I guess you’re a liar.” Pausing only to retrieve two more mugs, Tori turned her head enough to place her finger vertically over her lips.

He recognized the international sign for silence, and he nodded. Not sure what he’d just agreed to.

His sister-in-law—for all intents and purposes—spoke once more as she fished around in the very back of the shelf above the refrigerator. “If you’ll just admit the truth, I can make sure you’ll be a lot happier.” Her words sent a chill through his entire system. What the hell? He thought he’d just dodged a bullet, but now it seemed like she was fucking with him. Dangling the carrot just out of reach.

---