Page 8 of If You're Reading This
Standing just over six feet tall with a lean, athletic build, he moved with a confident grace. His expressions were particularly captivating—capable in an instant of shifting from distant and guarded to disarmingly warm, revealing unexpected depths beneath his composed exterior.
“I . . .” he started.
Morgan had rendered him speechless—something that rarely happened. It wasn’t that he was a talker. But he didn’t hesitate to share what was on his mind either.
Why did the fact he’d been stunned into silence make her feel proud?
Instead of saying more, Logan reached for the back of her head. Ran his hand down her hair to her neck. Then he pressed his forehead into hers as if they were two magnets drawn together.
“I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move,” she told him softly. “As my brother would have said, ‘Seize the day!’”
The smile slowly vanished from his lips.
Something shifted. Was it something she’d said?
She stiffened and waited for him to express his thoughts.
“Morgan . . .” He backed up and ran a finger over his lips.
A war waged in his gaze.
Whatever memories were playing, they were what had kept him away from her. What had put up walls between them.
“What is it, Logan?” Her voice turned cooler, though she told herself not to be reactive.
But she sensed a rejection coming and tried to steel herself for the aftermath.
She was usually the one who wasn’t interested. The one with impossibly high standards. The one who broke hearts.
His gaze—tortured—drew up to meet hers. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it? You can tell me anything.” Despite her resolve not to touch him, she placed her hand on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm, his pulse quick.
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “It’s . . . it’s actually about your brother.”
She stiffened. “Bobby? What about Bobby?”
Logan swallowed hard and looked away. When he looked back at her again, agony seized his gaze. “I’m . . . I’m the reason he’s dead, Morgan.”
Everything froze.
The world around her.
Her lungs.
Maybe her heart.
She hadn’t just heard him correctly.
Right? There was no way. His words didn’t make sense.
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I . . . I don’t understand. The Iron Brotherhood killed him.”
“I . . . I was there the night he died, Morgan.” Logan’s voice cracked. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”
At once, her freezing cool spell broke. Instead, burning hot outrage filled her. “You werewhat?How could you have been there? Unless . . .”
Facts began to click together in her mind.
