Page 21 of This Is Love
Fuck. Did he hear any of that? “Yes, sir?”
There’s something about the look in his eye that makes all the air rush from my lungs. He motions to me that I should step aside with him. If he had a problem with us, he would have asked for both of us. Something all too familiar prickles along my nerves and my brows slowly draw together. I go with him, feeling the weight of Logan’s stare at my back.
Coach shuffles a few feet from everyone before spinning on his heel and rearranging his ball cap. Clearing his throat, he rubs a hand over his lips. “So, I don’t have any details, but your mother is having some sort of a medical emergency and is on her way to Evermore Memorial. I don’t know how serious it is, so I think you need to head out now.”
“What?” At my blurted question, Coach simply watches me, knowing I heard him the first time but waiting for my brain to register what he’s said. It’s an odd sensation, feeling the blood rush from my face like it just did. Lightheaded, I swallow hard. Wet my lips. Nod. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” Ugly, horrible thoughts make my gut churn. I exhale, turning in place as I attempt to recall what I did with my bag, but my head feels cloudy. Reminders of other instances like this with my mother foam and froth and roil within me.
When I finally snap out of it, to my surprise, Logan’s standing there with my duffel. “Here, Jax. Can I—?” One look at the expression on my face causes his mouth to clamp shut, lips pursing as his bold, blue eyes meet mine. There’s a hint of anxiety sketched over his features as he continues to hold thebag for me, and it wreaks havoc on the grasp I have over my mental state. I have an almost violent urge to clasp him to me, mold his strong body to mine right here in front of the entire fucking team.
It’s fucking insanity wrapped up in need… but also loathing. Logan’s the last person I should lean on, especially when my problems are his fucking fault. Anchoring that thought in my head, I snatch the duffel out of his hands, then stride away as fast as my feet will carry me before he has a chance to utter another word. I can’t afford to have him claw his way inside my head and tamper with my emotions.
Thankfully, my car is not parked far. Pulling my phone from my bag as I traverse the lot, I tap out a quick text to my mother, unsure if she’ll even be in any state to answer.
Mom?
What’s going on?
Coach said someone contacted him.
I’m on my way.
Hang tight.
I wait several seconds, then check to make sure my ringer is on before I shove the phone away again. The worry hangs over my head like a noose, ready to strangle me, taking my breath and every logical thought in my head. Picking up speed, I run for my car.
I’ve just skidded to a stop to unlock the door when the sound of pounding feet attracts my attention. I’m not alone.
“Jaxon,” Logan heaves out, “wait up.”
I whirl around, immediately shaking my head and giving him a cold glare. “The fuck are you doing? Why are you following me?”
“Coach told me to come with you.” Logan’s eyes dart to mine. “Stuck like glue, remember?” He takes off his ball cap and turns it backward before folding his arms over his broad chest. “He has this idea that you shouldn’t be alone and because we’re technically family that I should be the one to go with you.”
“Yeah well, you don’t have to. You should have told him it was a bad idea. Fuck knows you don’t care a damn about my mother.”
Logan steps forward as I try to open the door, bracing one strong hand against it while the other lands on my shoulder. “Hey. That’s not true.” His lips are mere inches from mine, but I shrug away from his touch, turning my head. His voice is gritty and raw as he mutters, “I’ll be going with you because like it or not, Coach fucking told me to.” His jaw is set, his posture rigid. “And you’re in no way okay to drive. Let me.”
I draw in one unsteady breath, then another. I’m wasting time. “Fine,” I bark out, the word hollow as I press the button to unlock all the doors. I hope my tone doesn’t tell him more than he needs to know about the anguish tearing through me.
“Good. Your mother needs you, and I’m going to make sure you get there in one piece. Get in. Now, let’s fucking go.”
No more than ten seconds later, we’re both in the car, the engine roars to life, and Logan hits the gas, steering us out of the parking lot and picking up speed as we hit the road heading off campus.
I can tell he’s peering at me from the corner of his eye. Disliking the moment of weakness I’d shown by letting him take the wheel for me, I grind out, “Fuckin’ stop. I’m fine.”
“Stop what?” His neck swivels, and he glances my way, but only for a second before his eyes travel back to the road we’re flying down. To his credit, it’s rather impressive that he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about the speed limit. Almost as if he actually is concerned about getting me to my mother as fast as he can.
As he makes the turn into the hospital and pulls up right outside the ER entrance, I work my jaw to the side. Letting out a low, disgruntled groan, I turn in my seat, pinning my gaze on him. “You know, it’d help if your mom wasn’t trying to push all of us together. Do me a favor and tell her to back off. My mother and I have no fucking interest in a goddamn family dinner.” By the end of my demand, I’m practically bellowing at him.
His head rears back, eyes widening as they ping over my features, searching for who the fuck knows what. “The fuck are you talking about?”
A breath heaves from me, and I clench my fist on my thigh, staring into his eyes. Does he know what his mother is doing? Or is his surprised reaction genuine? I shake my head, unsure. “Since you seem to be clueless, I’ll fucking fill you in. While I was getting coffee from the vending machine last night, Mom texted. She didn’t seem like herself. I finally got it out of her that your mom contacted her about some dinner she’s attempting to pull together. The suggestion had my mother slowly spiraling all fucking night.”
“My mother wouldn’t do that.” His brow furrows, staring at me. “She wouldn’t.”
The denial only sets me off, my temper flaring bright as I unbuckle, shove the car door open, and get to my feet. I turn around, my lungs heaving. It’s almost as if evidence of my anger is lingering in the cold Saturday afternoon air. “Really?” I grit out, pausing with my brow raised. “You sure about that? Because she knew what she was doing when she got involved with my sperm donor—a fucking married man with a family—so it’d follow that she knows exactly what she’s doing now.” Without wasting another second, I turn on my heel, hurrying into the hospital to find my mother.
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