Page 84 of Meet Me in the Valley
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, baby. I have nothing else to say,” I murmur, feeling her nod against me. When our eyes meet, she squeezes me tighter around my waist, planting a tearful kiss on my lips. I just want to get her out of this shit show before it causes her any more pain. Just seeing her cry fucking kills me, and I only want to make her forget.
As I’m leading Tia out, she stops us in our tracks, signaling me to wait for a second. Tia turns around, standing before her sister.
“Mom is dying, and no matter how much time has passed, I know she wants her daughter back. I know you’ve made a life here,” Tia looks at my mom, then back to Nora, “but pleaseconsider coming back. If not for me, then for Mom. Before she completely forgets who any of us are. I don’t want you to regret it, and I think Cali deserves to know her grandma.”
Nora doesn’t respond, pulling her gaze away from Tia as more tears track down her face. It’s not the answer Tia was hoping for, and the loss on her face is like a knife straight to my gut. She makes her way back to me, and I do my best to kiss away her heartbreak.
Our hands join, and I take one last look at my mother, her face etched with utter defeat.
After over a decade of no communication, I finally got it all off my chest. Every imaginary conversation I had with her in my mind—after all this time, I said them to her face. The fucking nightmares, the hole in my heart that she permanently left behind. You’d think I’d find peace. Relief. Resolve.
The only thing I’ve found as I leave a trail of blood from the open wound that is my mother—is more anger.
“Anger doesn’t suit you, baby.”
Well, too fucking bad.
Chapter Twenty-Six
TIA
If I could bottle up Logan’s laughter, I’d drench myself in it from head to toe. Knowing the second it seeps into my skin, I’d glow bright like a star and let it wash away every bad thing in my life.
It’s not just any old laugh, it’s a specific one.
He has the throaty chuckle—the one I hear when he’s relaxed, most likely manspreading on his couch with something funny on TV or scrolling mindlessly through his phone.
Then we have the silent laugh. One of my favorites by a long shot. It’s the one that happens when we are too far gone, when whatever we found hilarious takes our oxygen with it, and we’re keeled over with nothing but tears in our eyes, wheezing like a pair of tea kettles.
Butthislaugh. The one that envelops me in a fuzzy film, buzzing off my body causing my blood to thrum and rush through my veins. The one where he throws his head back in bliss with his dimples on full display and his smile a country mile wide. The one I hear most often when it’s just us two—a loud, booming sound that could revive me from the dead.
That’s the one I want to have for safekeeping in my back pocket.
After the shit-show, family-drama throwdown back at my sister’s house, Logan and I knew we needed to let loose. Logan’s mom showing up at Nora’s was like watching lightning strike in the same spot twice.
What are the fucking odds?
We both agreed we were too emotionally exhausted to unpack whatever the hell happened. Finding out I had a secret niece, Logan’s mom being some sort of grandmother figure, and Nora freely trusting her and fleeing while eighteen and pregnant was enough for Logan and I to say fuck it, we’re in Vegas, let’s get lost tonight.
A run through the hotel casino to lose more nickels and a few shots of tequila later, we ended up at Verve, the nightclub in our hotel where the music is a vibe—just the place for getting lost in Logan’s back pocket laugh.
The DJ tonight plays mostly house music, which we are no strangers to. We’ve been to enough raves together since our college days. A sense of nostalgia washes over me as Logan jumps in time with the ferocious beat, bobbing his head and pumping his fist like a madman with that booming laugh of his weaving with the music.
My hands fly in the air with him, whipping my hair wild as his hands circle my waist. We’re buzzing, completely high on the energy radiating off the crowd of sweat-slicked bodies and liquor-induced strangers flowing around us to the beat.
Red lights and thick smoke cloak the dance floor in a seductive ambience as the DJ uses his music to manipulate the crowd, controlling our pulse with the heavy bass that thumps through the sound waves and into the ground.
The next song flows easily in a seamless transition, and my ears immediately perk at the recognition. “Desire”by Years & Years flows through the speakers, sparking a megawatt smile onmy face as Logan pulls me flush to his chest, running his nose along my jaw.
I shiver as his breath skates against my skin, leaning my head back with my arms snaked around his neck. We move together like lightning chasing thunder, his tongue tracing a vein on my neck until he ends up on my pulse point, sucking hard until my head spins with undeniable lust.
Logan’s hands slowly scale down my back, brushing the open skin where the dress I’m wearing dips low. His fingers dig into my ass as he rolls his hips into mine, both of us grinding on each other, creating a heat that burns low and slow in my sex.
The crowd falls away as my vision tunnels until he’s the only person in my view, deep brown eyes blown out to black with want. He spins me in a flawless move, my back to his front.
His erection presses through the fabric of his pants—long, hard, and gloriously thick as it pushes up against my backside. His lips ghost my earlobe, and I quiver as he whispers, “Let me play.”
Logan nips the shell of my ear as I nod with fervor. His fingers lace with mine, raising my arms to loop around the back of his neck. I pull on the hair along his nape and revel in the sweat on his skin and the overwhelming scent of musk and tequila invading me.
