Page 132 of Wild Catch
And then his arms come around me and the place erupts in deafening cheering.
I cringe a little at the explosive noise, but Logan buries his face in my hair and molds himself around me, and I forget the rest.
“Is that a yes?” he murmurs in my ear.
I rub my face against his chest while I lift it. Our noses brush and I grin. “It’s a hell freaking yes, babe.”
“Babe?” His right hand comes up to make a screen for the side of my face that the crowd can see, and his lips touch mine if only to speak softly. “I could get used to that.”
Impatient, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him, finally—finally—making the great Logan Kim mine.
And the response letter that did it?
Dear Logan,
You know I’ve been burned by guys who speak a pretty game. So show me, please. Show me that you’ll do what it takes for yourself and for us.
Wear the socks that Lucky gave you for a whole day, and then I’ll know your fears aren’t bigger than us.
Waiting to be yours,
Rose who smells like lavender
I grin into his lips.
CHAPTER44
LOGAN
“Rose?”
Her name spills from my mouth the second I wake up.
My chest rises and falls rapidly and I’m covered in sweat, the bed sheets tangled around me uncomfortably. I feel around my bed until I find my phone tucked under a pillow. With groggy eyes, I light it up to find that the call got disconnected, but it’s logged.
We spent hours on the phone last night and at some point must’ve fallen asleep. That’s what’s real—not the nightmare that woke me up bathed in cold sweat, where my past and my present got tangled, but instead Rose was the victim.
I rub my face with my hands. I’m never going to let that happen. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Rose safe, even what I never dared to do before. It’s not like I had much to lose before, but there was nothing worth doing it for—certainly not myself. I was just waiting until I found what I’ve been searching for all along.
Belonging. I belong here in the Orlando Wild, and with Rosalina Mena. I don’t belong to my parents or my brother, no matter how much our blood links us. I can’t subject Rose to them, and so they need to be cut out of my life.
“Like pruning flowers,” I murmur with a smirk, looking at my blue bell and rose tattoos running down my arms.
This was the answer all along, and I think I knew it. I just wasn’t brave enough—didn’t have a reason to be.
My therapist will be both proud and horrified that it took me this long to figure it out.
Groaning, I pull myself up on the power of my left arm alone. My right shoulder is still angry, but not more than my ribs. Gnarly bruises spot my left side but my stomach is clear. I run my hand across my abs, wondering if this is a good spot to tattoo some lavender bunches on me now.
It takes considerably more effort than usual to get out of bed and hop in the shower, but I manage. I take my sweet time grooming my beard to perfection because I want to see Rose today, even if it’s on FaceTime only. She’s at work and I am… not, what with being put on strict rest for at least a week.
“Shit, I haven’t even asked her out on a date.” I frown in the mirror. Sure, we’ve gone out several times, but there was always that cautiousness wedged in between. What would it be like to just be us? No pretense, no deadlines, only honesty between us?
I better find out ASAP.
Picking up my phone, I find her contact at the top of my text messages and ask if she has lunch plans. She responds right away.
My Rose
