Page 30 of This Is Love
“Maybe we should find out. Because I think it’s so much more than trying to mess with his head. And I think even if being with me was meant to hurt him… well, your original intentions disappeared pretty fucking fast, whether you want to admit that or not.”
She’s not wrong about the last bit, but I choose to fixate on the first part. “‘We’? Do you mean…?” My brows draw slowly together as I search her features, because she can’t be fucking suggesting what I think she is.
The straightening of her back and the hard swallow she manages as she nods leave me reeling. The idea of Logan, Rya,and mesets in motion a carousel of dirty images that spin through my mind until I’m dizzy. “I mean the three of us. Together.”
Her lip trembles as she studies me, and I know saying those words aloud must have been really fucking scary for her, especially with all the trouble between Logan and me. My breath catches before I can grit out, “Is that what you want?”
“Maybe.” The word practically gets stuck in her throat, but then she continues, “I think I’d like to find out what it’d be like.”
Her chest rises and falls fast, and I wonder if revealing this previously unspoken desire is making her feel exposed, because holy fucking hell. What the shit am I supposed to do with this newfound knowledge?
15
JAXON
There’sa quick knock on the door, but because of the topic at hand, all I can do is stare at Rya, speechless. Gobsmacked. Dumbfounded. She tilts her head to the side, then, when another light but impatient knock sounds, she scrambles from my lap and hurries to answer. The door creaks as she opens it, but she doesn’t say a damn word, which has my lips twisting and my heart thudding. It’s him. I’m positive. A moment later, the click of the door sounds like gunfire in the quiet room, and she comes around the corner with Logan in tow.
“We were just talking,” she says to him, turning to meet his eyes. “Sort of.” Her nose wrinkles, and his brow raises in response.Oh, yeah. They know each other well enough that he’s probably aware of what she means by that. She hasn’t ever hidden the fact she’s been seeing me, but because she’s sweet, she’s attempting not to shove it in his face, I guess.
His gaze settles on me, holding there until I jut my chin toward him and ask, “What’s going on?” While it’s clear he’s curious about what Rya and I have been up to, the way his jaw is twitching is a dead giveaway he’s got something major on hismind that actually doesn’t have anything to do with Rya being here with me.
Logan’s lips press into a tight line as he stares at me for a moment longer before his eyes flick to Rya. “I wanted to make sure you were with one of us tonight. I, uh… have some info.”
She dampens her lips, looking decidedly nervous. “What do you mean by info?”
Logan rakes a hand through his unruly hair, before gritting out, “The guy who responded to you on the messenger board? He posted a few minutes after you got picked up… about it being fucking rude not to cancel a ride if you found another.”
Blood whooshes through my head, throbbing incessantly. “You mean—”Fuck.What the hell?
With a sharp nod, Logan affirms the ugly truth. “The asshole who picked her up isn’t the guy from the campus ride program.”
Rya’s eyes become wild as what he’s said hits her full force. “Oh my god,” she murmurs, her distress becoming more and more evident as she begins to shake. A moment later, she staggers as she falls into Logan’s arms, seeking my stepbrother for comfort. The action alone makes me strangely envious of their connection—and wishing I was the one she came to. I work my jaw to the side. But that’s not important right now. She needs to feel safe… and Logan does that for her.
I’m the one who always seems to catch her when she falls. And maybe that’s enough. Maybe— I scrub a hand through my hair. Maybe she needs me, too, just not in the exact same way she needs him.
While I’ve been in my head, he’s been busy smoothing his strong hands over her back, seeking to calm her. “Yeah, I know, baby,” he chokes out. “It’s fucked.”
Without a notion in my head as to what I’m about to do until it’s happening, I join them, sandwiching her between us, placingmy hands on her shoulders as Logan’s eyes burn into mine over her head.
“Now you know why I had to make sure you weren’t going to be alone. I don’t fucking like this turn of events at-fucking-all.” Hesitation has his jaw twitching as he studies me. “It’s late.” Taking in a long breath, he murmurs, “You got her tonight?”
I narrow my eyes, sure I haven’t heard him correctly. If I have, the control within him is stunning. If I were on the other side of this—having interrupted the two of them in a private moment—I doubt I’d be handling it so well. Concentrating fully on him, my brain works overtime to figure out what the hell is running through his head.
Rya turns and looks up at me, a silent plea residing in her eyes. A knot of indecision develops in my chest. I know what she’s asking, but can I handle it? Can Logan? Can we both be with her without breaking her heart in two?
On a throaty groan, I murmur, “You don’t have to leave, Logan.” Those foreign-to-me words exit my mouth, but upon examining them, I find I fucking mean them. Where that lands us, I have no fucking clue, but I watch a flicker of surprise combined with apprehension drift over his features as he takes in the suggestion—especially since it’s coming from me.
“No?” he rasps, and while I’m still trying to find a way to pry into his psyche, Rya goes up on tiptoe—easy for our ballet dancer—and draws his face to hers.
She nods. “Please? I can’t think about everything else right now. And I need you both. I want?—”
“Both of us,” he repeats back as more surprise flares in his eyes. And there’s something more than that. Something I recognize in him. A certain heat leaps between us. She saw the two of us this morning, the way we are with each other. Is she really okay with this? Or is she simply trying to find a path through this where she doesn’t have to give either of us up?
It’s my fault he’s hesitating. Rya is right. Every time things are going okay—when I let my walls drop—I’ve done nothing but lash out at him after the fact. Serve up another heaping helping of dickhead stepbrother for him. Remind him that I hate him.
But I don’t. Not really. Not the person I’m finally getting to know after all this time. How the ever-loving fuck do I explain that to him? Or myself. Fuck. Dammit. He looked so fucking confused earlier when I said what I did about his mom. Something prickles along my nerves, wondering for possibly the first time if my anger hasn’t been… misplaced.
There’s no way we’re discussing this fucking now. Maybe later. Maybe never. Fuck, I don’t know, don’t have a clue how to handle the way I feel when I look at him—one part years-old hate, one part agonizing confusion, and one part animal attraction. And this weird, newfound, begrudging respect.
