Page 60 of Somewhere Without You
“Like this. . .” His fingers brushed mine, a feather-light touch that sent a jolt of electricity into my very soul.
Speechless, I couldn’t move. The flutter in my belly had suddenly erupted into a wildfire—lighting me up from the inside.
“Emily. . .” he said my name like it was something delicate, like it was something meant to be cherished.
My heart pounded so loud I was sure Gran could hear it from inside.
But before I could answer, before I could sayyesorwaitorwhat are we doing?a light flicked on downstairs.
We both froze.
Logan pulled back a fraction, just enough to break the spell. “Gran?” he whispered.
I nodded, already shifting toward the window. “She gets up sometimes for tea or to yell at the news.”
We both held our breath, listening. When the light finally dimmed, Logan exhaled sharply. His hair was slightly mussed, one dark curl flopping over his forehead. I fought the urge to brush it back.
“You should go,” I whispered.
He nodded, the soles of his shoes scraping the worn shingles as he made his way back down. I watched until the dark swallowed him whole, the vines trembling in his wake.
Once inside,I pressed the window shut and turned the lock with a softclick. Then I eased back into bed, heart still thundering, thoughts racing. I wasn’t sure what just happened. I only knew everything had changed.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
Thirty Five
Now
Logandidn’tsayawordas I approached. He just sat there, shoulders slumped, head buried in his hands.
“Hey,”I said, loosening my grip on Winston’s leash.
Helookedup.“Hey.”His voicewaslow, laced with sorrow. He stood as I stepped past him, struggling to secure my keys.“Here, let me help you. . .”
“I’ve got it,”I saidsharply, the keys slipping from my hand and clattering to the porch.
Logan bent to retrieve them. His gaze drifted to the dried blood on my arm.“What the hell happened to you?”
I snatched the keys from his hand.“What are you doing here, Logan?”
He ran a hand over his face. The sharp edges of his featuresweredulledby exhaustion. Dark circles ringed his tawny eyes. Helooked. . . broken.
“Emily,”he began, his voice a rough whisper,“I’m so sorry.”
A wave of hurt washed over me. The righteous furyI’dbeen nursing over the past week still blistered over my skin.Butseeing him like this—the bone-deep weariness etched onto his face, made my heart ache.
“What happened?”I asked.
Logan leaned against the porch railing, his shirt creased and dusty. He stared at his calloused hands. “Something came up,”he mumbled, the wordsbarelyaudible over the sound of birds chirping. “Butthat’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have left you hanging likethat. I—” He stopped, swallowing hard, the effort visible in the tightening of his jaw. “It’s complicated,”he finished, shaking his head.
I started to reach for him but stopped. Whateverwasgoing on with him, I didn’t want to complicate things further.
“It’s ok,”I whispered.“Igetit.”
A flicker of relief passed through his eyes.
I gave him a faint smile.“Do you want to come in?”I asked, gesturing toward the door.
