Page 81 of We Were Something
Logan shifts, looking at me with a grimace.
“That didnotcome out right. Paige, please forgive me,” he says, apology written all over his face and heavy in his words.
He takes my head in his hands and places another kiss against my forehead. Then my left cheek. My right cheek. My nose. Kisses softly against my lips.
But when I don’t return it, he sighs.
“I’m still groggy with sleep and…I only meant I’d always envisioned sex on this boat being a certain way, and when it didn’t happen, I assumed it never would. Thought I’d be destined to ride in it as a cranky old retiree, wishing I’d been fortunate enough to have had some funback in my day.”
He says the last bit with a funky, old person tinge to his voice.
“I never could have imagined it would be like that, and with someone like you.”
I give him the best soft smile I can manage and nod my head.
“I understand,” I tell him. “It just came out wrong.”
His eyes search mine, back and forth, like he can read the fact that I’m still hurt. Like he can tell I’m not as understanding as I’m claiming to be.
It feels unfair, holding on to this with him. There was a time when a joke like what he said would have rolled off my back. Would have rolled right off and splashed into the ocean and I wouldn’t have even noticed.
But that was also back when I didn’t care about the men I fucked. When I put up walls, convincing myself nothing serious would ever come from it. When it really was just about sex and fucking and flings and getting off and any other way I can say it that makes it sound as dirty and tawdry as possible.
Now, though, I don’t feel that way.
Now, I don’twantto hear him call me a fling when I’m falling in love with him.
Now, I don’twantto hear him talk about sex with his ex-wife when I’m lying naked in his arms.
“Please say you forgive me,” he says, his eyes still searching mine.
“I forgive you,” I tell him, pressing my lips against his then snuggling into his chest, relishing the warmth of him and the smell of him.
It’s a lie, of course.
Idon’tforgive him. Not yet.
I’ve never been good at forgiveness, and in the past, I’ve never had to be. Men were as disposable as my morning coffee cup, and it was just easier to move on.
But with Logan, I know that’s not the case.
So eventually, I’llhaveto forgive him.
Because anything less means I’ll have to let him go.
I’m not ready for that.
And who knows if I ever will be.
CHAPTER16
PAIGE
A few hours later, once we’ve sailed back to the mainland and docked at the yacht club, Logan drives me the short distance back to my house, his hand holding mine the entire way.
The awkward moments post-coitus this morning seemed to fade into the background once we’d each had some caffeine and a little breakfast. I decided to shove it aside—like the ‘mooch’ convo from last night—and instead convinced Logan to join me in the shower. He was particularly attentive, bringing me over the edge twice before he soaped up and rubbed himself between my ass cheeks until he came.
Logically, I know getting naked isn’t a replacement for conversation. It’s not the way to solve problems or the right action to express forgiveness. But fuck if our bodies together doesn’t drug me up until I can’t manage to care about anything else.
