Page 34 of Logan
“Your place is fine,” she says, but her voice has an edge. “We are talking, though. Don’t think you’re going to get me thereand it will be a repeat of last time.” The hurt in her tone lands like a blade between my ribs.
“Deal.” I offer my hand, but she doesn’t take it. Instead, she walks toward the bike, rubbing her arms against the chill.
I strip off my cut and the long-sleeve shirt beneath it, ignoring the sting of the cold. Holding the shirt out to her, I pull my jacket back on.
“You don’t need to give me this,” she protests. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re already cold. The bike will make it worse. Please, just wear my shirt and let’s head out.”
She hesitates, then gives in, sliding my shirt over hers. The sight of her wearing it does things to me I don’t have the luxury of thinking about right now.
I swing onto the bike and she climbs on behind me. Her hands settle around my middle, but it’s not like the other night. Then, she clung to me like she needed me. Tonight, she’s just holding on because she has to.
The ride is short, the wind cutting around us. I take the turns easy, wanting her safe, wanting her to know I’m not here to rush or bulldoze her.
When we pull into my driveway, she’s already climbing off before I can kick the stand down. She walks to the door without waiting for me. I fish out my keys, my stomach tight, and unlock it, holding the door open for her.
She steps inside like she’s entering neutral territory, not my home. She takes the couch, sitting with her back straight, her eyes on me. She’s waiting.
Here goes nothing.
“I guess I need to start from the beginning,” I say. “I just need you to let me get through it all before you ask questions or say anything.”
She nods once, her expression unreadable.
“The night before we broke up, when we were together,” I start, the memory already flooding in, “was the best night of my life. Knowing I was your first and you were mine, it was everything. I was so damn happy.”
I get to my feet because I can’t sit still. Pacing helps keep my thoughts in order. “I went out with Carter that night. First time I ever had a drink. He was a mess and didn’t care that he was dragging me down with him. Some guys at the bar decided to start trouble, and we beat their asses. One of them looked at me afterward and said I might think I was tough, being from the MC, but he didn’t give a damn. He said he’d seen me around town and thought it might be a good idea to pay you a visit. He was drunk, talking shit. I told myself it was just that. But then I looked across the bar and saw your dad sitting in one of the booths.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath, and it’s like a punch in my chest.
“The next day at work, your dad came by. Said he wanted to talk. I sat in his car, and he told me how they had such high hopes for you. That you had a good future ahead. He said he was scared I’d drag you down with me. That the club life would get you hurt or killed.”
I stop pacing and look at her. “He wasn’t wrong.”
Closing my eyes, I let the truth settle in the room. “I couldn’t imagine you being hurt or killed because of me. My parents lost a kid to this life. I lost my Aunt Izzy. And those arejust a few examples. I couldn’t let you be another one. I ended it because I loved you more than I wanted to be happy.”
Sitting beside her, I take her hand, hoping she can feel what words might not cover. “I have never loved anyone else. I couldn’t, because I never stopped loving you. I got drunk after we broke up, and that was the night I called you. I haven’t touched a drop since. I didn’t want to risk slipping again. I needed you in my soul, but I convinced myself it was in your best interest to stay away.”
I rake a hand through my hair, frustration and longing mixing until I can barely keep them separate. “When you came back into town, everything got turned upside down. It was like you were calling out to me, but every reason I had for leaving was still there. I’m sorry if it’s seemed like I’ve been playing games with you. I’ve been trying to figure out what I can live with. And I’ve realized that even though it’s selfish, I can’t live without you. I need you like I need air.”
Her eyes stay locked on mine, steady and unflinching.
“Please forgive me,” I say. “Tell me you still want to be mine.”
Her hand comes up, warm against the side of my face, her thumb brushing along my jaw. “Logan Pearce, you are the only boy I have ever loved and the only man I have ever been with. I can forgive you, but you won’t get a third chance. This is it for us.”
The words land like salvation. I pull her to me, our mouths crashing together, and it’s like drinking after days in the desert. She tastes like everything I’ve been starving for.
It’s over.
She’s mine.
And I am never letting her go.
Chapter Sixteen
Logan
