Page 63 of Overtime Goal
“No. But I can’t live in limbo waiting for you to decide if you’re in this or not. I’ve done that before, and it nearly broke me.”
“I’m not whoever did that to you.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I can survive it a second time.”
He opened his eyes, and I stared into them while everything I wanted to say jammed in my throat. I wanted to promise I’d never hurt him and beg him to give me a little more time. Instead, what came out was a low, pitiful, “I don’t want this to be over.”
“I don’t either, Ade. But it was never real.”
I blinked at him, trying to breathe past the pressure in my chest. I was afraid to say anything because I might fall into pieces I couldn’t put back together.
Almost as an afterthought, he said, “Quinn’s in town.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
He was looking through me, not at me. “Quinn Weaver. He’s here on business, and I ran into him yesterday. I told him I’d meet him this afternoon.”
I stood too fast, the chair screeching behind me. “You’re going out with him?”
Logan got up too and crossed his arms. “I said I’d meet him for drinks so we could catch up. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
I grabbed my stomach, trying to hold myself together. “What does that mean? You’re leaving for the afternoon, or…? When will I see you again?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
A thousand things exploded in my mind, images I didn’t want. Logan with Quinn, their past spilling into the present. Their wild hookups Logan had described once after too many glasses of wine. Logan pushing him up against a door, and Quinn knowing every part of Logan’s body I hadn’t dared to touch yet. The thoughts were acid in my veins.
“You’re actually doing this?” I asked. “Is it revenge because I went to dinner with Natalie?”
“No.” He looked so shocked, I believed him. “All that did was help put things into focus for me. I don’t play games, and you know me well enough to believe that.”
“But you’re… maybe… Fuck, Logan.”
He didn’t answer because he was already moving on. The wall was up, and I’d handed him the bricks to build it.
“I guess…” My throat closed, and I had to try again. “If that’s what you really want, I can’t stop you.”
“I won’t need the car. And right now, I’m going to take a nap. Maybe I’ll see you before I go.”
After a slight nod, he stepped inside. I stood there for a long time with my hands limp at my sides, staring out at the sunlitcliffs of Positano and wondering how the fuck I’d gone from lying next to him in bed to watching him walk out of my life.
25/
logan
The terraceat Marco’s was buzzing when I arrived. Quinn was already there, nursing a beer, and I sat in the chair next to him. I ordered a beer too, then leaned back and enjoyed the view. The Mediterranean’s aquamarine water sparkled in the afternoon sun, and I took a deep breath of salt air and tried to push Riley from my mind.
After the waiter brought my drink, Quinn sat up and grinned. He’d tucked his sunglasses into the collar of a blue polo shirt that hugged his muscles like it had been made for him.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said, toying with the rim of his Peroni.
I lifted my glass and took a long sip. “You invited me, and I said yes.”
“Right. But saying yes and showing up are two different things. Especially when you’re avoiding something.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that what I’m doing?”
He spread his legs, pulling his shorts tight around his impressive thighs. “Perhaps. Or maybe you wanted to see how much hotter I’ve gotten in retirement.”
