Page 61 of What Matters Most

Abby poured some onto her spoon and stirred it into her coffee. Logan had a nice mouth, she reflected. She couldn’t remember thinking that in a long time. She had when they’d first met, but that was nearly two years ago. She watched him for a moment, trying to figure him out. Logan was so—Abby searched for the right word—sensible. Nothing ever seemed to rattle him. There wasn’t an obstacle he couldn’t overcome with cool reason. For once, Abby wanted him to do something crazy and nonsensical and fun.

“Logan.” She spoke softly, coaxingly. “Let’s drive to Des Moines tonight.”

He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Des Moines, Iowa?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t it be fun just to take off and drive for hours—and then turn around and come home?”

“That’s not fun, that’s torture. Anyway, what’s the point?”

Abby pressed her lips together and nodded. She shouldn’t have asked. She’d known his answer even before he spoke.

The ride home was as silent as the drive to class had been. The tension wasn’t nearly as great, but it was still evident.

“I have the feeling you’re angry,” Logan said as he parked in front of her building. “I’m sorry that spending the whole night on the road doesn’t appeal to me. I’ve got this silly need for sleep. From what I understand, it affects older people.”

“I’m not angry,” Abby said firmly. She felt disappointed, but not angry.

Logan’s hand caressed her cheek, curving around her neck and directing her mouth to his. Abby closed her eyes, expecting the usual featherlight kiss. Instead, Logan pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. Deeply. Passionately. Surprised but delighted, Abby groaned softly, liking it. Her hands slipped over his shoulders and joined at the base of his neck.

Logan had never kissed her with such intensity, such unrestrained need. His mouth moved over hers, and Abby sucked in a startled breath as pure sensation shot through her. When he released her, she sighed longingly and rested her head against his chest. Involuntarily, a picture of Tate entered her mind. This was what she’d imagined kissing him would be like…

“You were pretending I was Tate, weren’t you?” Logan whispered against her hair.

Two

“Oh Logan, of course I wasn’t,” Abby answered, somewhat guiltily. She had thought of Tate, but she hadn’t pretended Logan’s kiss was Tate’s.

He brushed his face along the side of her hair. Abby was certain he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t, remaining silent as he climbed out of the car and walked around to her side. She smiled weakly as he offered her his hand. Logan could be such a gentleman. She was perfectly capable of getting out of a car by herself, but he always wanted to help. Abby supposed she should be grateful—but she wasn’t. Those old-fashioned virtues weren’t the ones that really mattered to her.

Lightly, he kissed her again outside her lobby door. Letting herself in, Abby was aware that Logan waited on the other side until he heard her turn the lock.

After changing into her pajamas, Abby went into the kitchen and made tea. She sat at the small round table and placed her feet on the edge of a chair, pulling a blanket over her knees. Did she love Logan? The answer came almost immediately. Although he’d taken offense, fond had aptly described her feelings. She liked Logan, but Tate had aroused far more emotion during their short acquaintance. Quickly drinking the tea, Abby turned off the light and miserably decided to go to bed. Dano joined her, purring loudly as he arranged himself at her feet.

Friday evening, she begged off when Logan invited her to a movie, saying she was tired and didn’t feel well. He seemed to accept that quite readily. And, in fact, she watched a movie at home, by herself, and was in bed by ten, reading a new mystery novel, with Dano stretched out at her side.

—

Saturday afternoon, Abby arrived at the park a half-hour early, hoping Tate would be there and they’d have a chance to talk. She hadn’t heard from him and wondered if he’d decided Logan had a prior claim to her affection. However, Tate didn’t seem the type who’d be easily discouraged. She found him in the same spot he was in last week and waved happily.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said eagerly, and sat on the grass beside him, leaning her back against the massive tree trunk.

“My thoughts exactly,” Tate replied, with a warm smile that elevated Abby’s heart rate.

“I’m sorry about Logan,” she told him, weaving her fingers through the grass.

“No need to apologize.”

“But he was so rude,” Abby returned, feeling guilty for being unkind. But she’d said no less to Logan himself.

Tate sent her a look of surprise. “He didn’t behave any differently than I would have, had the circumstances been reversed.”

“Logan doesn’t own me,” she said defiantly.

A smile bracketed the edges of his mouth. “That’s one piece of news I’m glad to hear.”

Their eyes met and he smiled. Abby could feel her bones melt. It was all she could do to smile back.

“Do you like Rollerblading?”

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