Page 25 of Whenever You Call

“Did you love her?”

“No,” I answered tightly.

I’ve never loved anyone romanticallywas the real answer, but I didn’t want to admit that out loud, knowing it made me sound like a cold-hearted asshole. Love always resulted in loss in some way or another. I saw it every day on the job, and I’d experienced the torture of it when Dale died. Since then, I’d taught myself to keep a distance from anything too good because I knew I wouldn’t know how the fuck to handle it once it was gone. Just like last time.

“What happened?”

“We were too young, and I didn’t give her enough romance or some shit like that. She ended it less than a year later.”

“Were you upset?”

“No. Relieved.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Poor Melody. And after her?”

“Same story, different woman.”

“They ended things with you…”

“… Because I’m emotionally unavailable, yeah.”

“I find that so hard to believe,” she whispered as if lost in her own thoughts. “I know I’ve only met you a couple of times, but I didn’t get that impression about you. I mean… look how you helped me… twice.”

“That’s what I do, Hannah. It’s easier with strangers.”

“Do you really believe that, or are you just trying to hide something from the world? From yourself?”

“Like what?”

“That underneath the surface, you’re possibly the most naturally caring man a woman could wish to meet. You’re probably full of love, Logan. Maybe you’ve just never found the right way to show it.”

I didn’t know what the hell to say to that. Not with this giant secret sitting between us. Hannah didn’t have a clue who I really was, and truth be told, neither did I.

“Of all the women you dated,” she said, breaking me from my thoughts. “Did you ever think you could love any of them if you just let yourself go a little? Leaned into it instead of away from it?”

I didn’t have to think about it. “No, not even close.”

“Damn.” She sighed. “That’s rough.”

Running a hand along my forehead, I couldn’t disagree.

“Lucky you, though, huh?” she added.

“Lucky?” I scowled, my skin prickling at the mention of that word in any capacity. Lucky Logan died weeks ago, right alongside Cole Newman.

“Mmhmm,” she said softly. “I’d give anything to never have been in love. It’s the one thing we have no control over, but the one thing that has the ability to break us like nothing else. It’s dangerous. It’s worse than a drug, more painful than any weapon, and you’ve made it so far into life without being tainted by it.” She paused before adding softly, “I knew there was something different about you. You haven’t let another fuck up your heart so badly that you now look at everyone with suspicion, wondering if they’re going to be the next person to walk into your life and screw it over. So, yeah. Lucky Logan.”

Chapter9

HANNAH

Itried to avoid calling him.

I’d occupied myself around the house, annoying Livia with the need to keep my hands and mind busy, but there was something about Logan that made me want to talk openly for the first time in months. I didn’t know what that something was, but I did know I liked it.

I liked the way he listened without thinking he had to fill me with false promises of time being a healer or how I had the strength to get through this. The usual cliché bullshit everyone else around me seemed to repeat over and over again, as though saying the same thing a thousand times would somehow ‘fix me’. Grief was unfixable. It didn’t evaporate or even dilute over time. People like me just had to learn to live with it and adjust to a new way of life under a slightly darker cloud than before.

I stared out at the backyard from mine and Cole’s bedroom, the balcony doors open so I could watch the trees do… nothing. Absolutely nothing.

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