Page 43 of Whenever You Call

Logan: Fine.

I smiled to myself and let my head fall back against the cushions, dropping my cell into my lap.

Fine.

That would do.

Chapter18

HANNAH

Two days passed, and Logan made no contact.

I went back and forth, grateful for his silence one minute, only to be agitated by it the next. In such little time, I’d come to look forward to hearing his voice—a calm anchor in a loud, stormy sea. I thought back to the night at the lookout point and how he’d been nothing but patient with me, letting me sit back and just…thinkas I looked out over the vast city, trying to figure out my place in it after so much change.

I wanted more of that.

More moments of serenity.

More guilt-free time.

More company with someone who made me feel good.

I was using him as a crutch, and I couldn’t stop myself.

The number of times I’d picked up my cell to call him was borderline ridiculous. Thankfully, that voice in the back of my mind—whether it was Cole’s or not, I wasn’t so sure—told me not to do it. Logan wasn’t the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to. If he wanted to speak to me, he would.

The ball was in his court.

That didn’t stop me feeling like a wound-up ball of string, which led me to step into the underground gym of our home, pushing open the door to reveal the pristine, barely touched equipment inside it for the first time in months.

My eyes roamed up to take in the reflection staring back at me in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that lined every wall. Even though I’d seen myself a hundred or more times in the last few months, seeing my body in gym leggings and a sports bra with my hair scraped back by a hairband was like seeing myself for the very first time.

And it wasn’t good.

I’d lost too much weight; the size of my waist and the way the bones of my hips poked out through the black waistband were proof of that.

I walked toward the mirror, taking in every inch until I couldn’t look at it anymore, and I pulled out the barely-used yoga mat. It curved up at the edges when I laid it down, taking its time to flatten after being rolled up for far too long. I could practically hear Cole’s sarcastic whispers in my ear.

That thing cost me four hundred dollars, Han, and you’ve used it twice.

“I never asked for you to buy me it,” I responded. “I never asked you for anything.”

I wanted you to have the best of the best.

“You wanted me to have things.”

My wife wasn’t going to be the only wife in Beverly Hills not to have one of these mats. Everyone went on and on about them.

“Not me.”

It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little gratitude.

“Right,” I muttered, my eyes filling with moisture. “Do you even know what it’s for?”

I imagined him placing his hands on my bare arms, his chin resting on my shoulder.Stretching that beautiful body of yours out in ways I can only dream of.

“You could have had me any time you wanted me, Cole.”

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