Page 94 of Puck Struck
I lean against my car door with a deep sigh, studying his face. It actually looks more relaxed than I’ve seen in a while. "Are you sure? About dinner, I mean. It's been a pretty intense day."
"I'm sure." He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat coming off his body. "Besides, Ethan would love to see you."
My chest tightens with something that feels dangerously close to hope. "Logan?—"
"Seven o'clock," he says, cutting off whatever I was about to say. Maybe he knew and didn’t want the words to hit air. "Don't be late. Tessa gets pissy when her lasagna gets cold."
He cups my face in his strong hands and kisses me hard, draining me of breath, right there in the parking lot where anyone could see. And I taste hope along with the tang of coffee. When he pulls away, his eyes are soft in a way that makes my heart do a little dance in my chest.
"Seven o'clock," I say.
I watch him walk to his truck, favoring his left shoulder again. The injury he's been hiding is getting worse, and weboth know it. But for today, right now, I let myself believe that everything is going to be okay.
That James is really gone.
That Logan and I might actually have a shot at something real.
That the scared kid who sold himself to survive can learn to accept love when it's freely given.
As I drive home, my phone stays silent. No threatening texts, no photos, no reminders of a past I finally feel like I can leave behind.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, the future feels like something worth fighting for, not something to fear.
TWENTY-FIVE
logan
The scentof garlic and basil fills the kitchen. It’s normally a comforting smell, something homey and warm but right now, my stomach is roiling and my hands won't stop fucking shaking. I've checked my phone seventeen times over the last hour, waiting for another text from James, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for everything to go to shit like it always does.
"He'll be here," Tessa says, hip-checking me as she slides past to grab dinner plates from the cabinet. "Stop hovering by the oven like the lasagna is gonna burn if you look away for two seconds."
"I'm not hovering."
"Youarehovering. And checking your phone like it's a ticking time bomb." She puts a stack of plates on the counter. "Is this what it looks like when Logan Shaw has feelings for someone? Because it's slightly terrifying. And completely foreign to me."
I glare at her. "I don't have?—"
"You do. Don’t even try to deny it." She grins, and for a second she looks like the little girl I used to make peanut buttersandwiches for when Mom was too drunk to get out of bed. "It's okay, you know. To care about him."
I heave a deep sigh. "It's not that simple."
"It never is. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth a shot." She leans against the counter, studying me with that too-perceptive gaze that always makes me feel like she can see right through my bullshit. "But it might be simpler than you're making it. He likes you, Lo. Anyone with eyes can see it."
Before I can respond, Ethan’s feet pound down the steps.
"Is Cam here yet?" he asks in an excited voice, a dinosaur book clutched to his chest. His cheeks are slightly flushed, but he seems energetic. It’s so much of an improvement and a relief that I smile even though my insides are churning.
"Not yet, bud. Why don't you help Mom set the table while we wait?"
"Can Cam sit next to me?" He pulls open the utensil drawer and grabs silverware from the drawer, counting out four place settings.
"Sure. Just don't talk his ear off about dinosaurs all night, okay?"
"But he likes dinosaurs." Ethan says it so matter-of-factly that something in my chest aches. "He told me so. I bet he’d like it if I talked about something he’s interested in."
Tessa stifles a chuckle and shakes her head.
That kid. I freaking love him to pieces.
