His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out, palm cradling my cheek. “Because unlike Mark, I know how precious you are.”
“Yet you walked away this morning,” I interrupted.
His shoulders fell, hand dropping away. “Today I…”
His expression was pained, his words hesitant. “I came back. That’s what matters.” Everything in him shifted back to the confident man I knew as he continued.
“No! You still walked away because I’m not ready. And I’ll never be ready. I know I’ve been hard on you, doing everything I can to force you to see that I’m nothing special, not worth your time. But it’s because I can’t go back to where we were that night. It should never have happened. We should have stayed friends and never tried—”
“No! I’ll regret that night for the rest of my life, but not us taking a chance. That was the best thing we did. I want to know everything about you, hear your voice every morning and every night. I will never risk losing you again. I can’t sleep thinking of you alone in this house, so close yet so far away. I know you’re scared, and I know it’s only been a couple weeks. I don’t expect you to crawl into bed with me and let me claim you as mine. I’m only asking that you stop pushing me away.”
My eyes closed. “Logan, I don’t know who I am right now,” I managed, my breath ragged. “My head’s all screwed up, and I don’t want to hurt you, but seeing you tears me up. I don’t know what I feel for you anymore, or if I even feel anything at all.”
“Don’t lie to me. It’s easy to see the effect I have on you.”
I attempted to push back, furious at myself that he was right, that I was so weak. But he grabbed my forearms and ran his hands back up my cheeks, cradling my face in his hands again.
“As well as the incredible effect you have on me. I can’t even describe it, the way you make me feel…so alive…so hungry for life, for you, for love. It’s all so new to me, but I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you. It fucking kills me every night, thinking about what I said to you.”
Logan dropped his hands away and stepped back, standing in silence for a long moment, his brows drawn low in thought. I didn’t speak either as I watched him, my rage dying down as my heart broke all over again. We were shattered—both of us.
With soft eyes and a strained hoarse voice, he continued. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you.” His voice was lost in his throat. He swallowed, his face torn, and placed his hands on my forearms, which I took comfort in against all rational thought. “Cassandra, I want a chance to make this right. Not because of guilt, but because I lo—”
“Don’t.” I spoke quickly, surprising myself, but I couldn’t hear it. “Don’t you dare say those words to me.” I sat back on my bed with a slow grace.
Logan dipped down in front of my knees and pulled the blanket up from behind me. Tiny goose bumps flared over my body. His thumb caressed my bare back for the briefest moment when he pulled it over my shoulders, and I leaned into it. It felt so good, but the pain associated with his touch seared my heart. Tears sprung from my eyes, and I dropped my head into my hands.
“Shhh, please…don’t cry, sweetheart.”
I sobbed harder. His arm wrapped around me, the bed shifting with his weight beside me. I didn’t fight him when he pulled me to his chest. I couldn’t fight it, and in that moment, I didn’t want to.
The world around me faded away, leaving me with only my tears and his closeness.
I didn’t know how much time passed—seconds, minutes, perhaps hours—before my tears slowed and my breathing finally came easier. His hand ran through my hair, providing comfort only he could offer. His sweet voice soothed me, assuring me that I’d be all right—that we’d be all right.
I lay there numb in his arms, snuggling in his lap, my head tucked into the nape of his neck. His skin was so warm and inviting, I couldn’t resist inhaling his intoxicating masculinity. Before I could tell myself to stop and that it was dangerous to go there, my lips were on him. Defenseless to his body speaking to mine, they brushed lightly across his neck and back again, where I placed a small lingering kiss under his chin.
He didn’t move or say a word, but from the way his hand stilled mid-caress on my back, I knew he felt it—felt the hope I held onto that one day I could forgive him, that there might still be a possibility for us to share a love so powerful it could erase my pain, insecurities, and distrust; a love that could wipe away the past. But for now, it wasn’t there. A shred of hope was all I had to give.
With a small sniffle, I wiped my nose, not wanting the moment to end and reality to crash back down over us. I felt his body stiffen when I began to sit up, holding me in place.
Did he feel it, too? Did it torture him to let me go as much as it did me?
If I allowed myself a moment of honesty, I’d admit I never wanted to be apart from him, my Logan, the man I thought I knew. But the truth was there was more to Logan than I’d realized. He was more than just the guy I fell for, and I couldn’t trust him anymore.
I braced myself against his chest, sneaking another greedy touch as I sat up. Before I let go fully, his hands went to the sides of my face, cupping my cheeks, the pads of his thumbs wiping away final stray tears.
“I’m sorry. Out of everyone, I never wanted to hurt you. I’m…I’m thoughtless and careless. I’d never allowed anyone in after Natasha left, yet I couldn’t keep you away. I’m drawn to you, Cassandra—I have been ever since that morning I jogged behind you, admiring your body, wanting to reach out and snatch you up to have my way with you. I’ll never forget the image of you in those little shorts you were wearing.” He smiled at the memory he must’ve been recollecting while my cheeks flushed.
“I have never been more aroused at the break of dawn running down a back country road, but then you went and leapt over that damn puddle, so carefree and full of life. Something inside me cracked opened, and I knew you could be so much more than another frivolous night tryst. It terrified me how quickly I wanted to know more about you.”
My eyes fell to my lap as he released my face, moving his thumb and forefinger to take my chin gently, lifting my head up to meet his eyes. They were glossy with unshed tears.
“I tried to fight it, Cassandra. I thought if I could charm you, convince you to give me one night, that it would make you no different than any other woman. But you are so headstrong. I loved that about you.”
There was that word again—a word I couldn’t hear from his perfect lips. He loved that about me.
Wait, loved? As in past tense? Did it even matter anymore?
It must have, because I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in and touching my lips to his very gently. His hold fell from my chin, and with calculated ease, as though he were afraid he’d scare me away, his hand slid to my cheek.
His lips never moved, his fingertips stroking my flushed cheek as my mouth pressed to his. There was nothing else; I just stayed there, inhaling the moment, wishing I could forget all the reasons why I couldn’t let him back in.
With a soft peck, I rested my forehead against his and swallowed the lump swelling in my throat.
“I can’t,” I murmured, breathless. “I’m so…scared. Please…”
He cupped my face and pulled me back to see it clearly. “I know, and I’m well aware that I don’t deserve you. But I need you to know I never meant what I said that night. I wanted to give you everything, and I still do. You’re the only woman I’ve ever felt this way about.”
His thumb ran over my chin, eyes flickering to my lips that longed to connect with his once more. Yet I knew I wasn’t ready, and didn’t believe I ever would be. For forgiveness, perhaps, but I’d never be able to forget all the red flags that had been in my face, now scolding me for thinking he’d change—for me.
“I can’t walk away. Not from you. It nearly killed me waiting for any information from the doctors in the hospital. I wouldn’t have survived had I lost you, and now you’re here,
in my arms, and I’ll never let you go again.”
“Logan, I—”
“It’s okay to be frightened; hell, I’ve never been more terrified in my life. I know how I made you feel, and you have every right to hate me right now.”
“I don’t hate you. I hate myself for still wanting you.”
His voice deepened, taking on a firm authority. “I’ll prove to you that I can be everything you need—everything you always wanted. My heart and soul belong to you, and I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
His hands released my face and ran teasingly down my arms, then clasped my own hands. He lifted them to his lips, placed a soft lingering kiss on my knuckles, then looked up at me.
“I’ll wait till my dying breath to hold you again—to see you look at me and want me the way you did that night. Till then, I’ll be here. Whatever you need, I’ll be here for you.”
With my broken heart bulging in my chest, I reached out to wipe away the tear that fell from his watery blue eyes.
His lips pulled into the faintest smile before he stood from the bed, looking down at me. I wanted to jump into his arms while begging the universe to take away our pain; it drove me near insanity. Yet I continued to sit there, tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. With all the willpower I had, they never slid free.
I finally managed to find a sliver of my normal voice. “You should go.”
He nodded again, leaning down to place the tiniest kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes, never wanting the moment to end, knowing that my guard would go back up once he walked out the door. My resolve to remain still nearly faltered in that instant, but his sweet, sensual touch was quick; before I knew it, he was walking to the bedroom door.
He grabbed his coat from the chair and put it on, shoved his hands deep into his loose pajama-pant pockets, and looked back.
“If you need anything—anything at all—call me. I’m always here. Don’t ever be stubborn with me, Cassandra.” His voice was stern with an underlying tenderness, warming me from the inside out.
“Thank you,” I replied softly.
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
I watched as he turned and left me alone in the house to deal with the aftermath of the emotions roiling inside me.
Chapter Eleven
Neighbors
With one knock, the door opened to a beaming Oliver. I was early, but he didn’t seem to notice. That was the beauty with kids.
Oliver had called earlier that week to invite me over for lunch, and I couldn’t refuse him. Whatever was or wasn’t happening between Logan and me, it changed nothing about my friendship with Oliver. He always made me smile, and lately I needed that more than anything.
“Cassie!” His grin faltered a beat as he appraised me with a nervous eye, but upon realizing I was nearly good as new, his expression perked back up.
“How you been, buddy?” I asked, hating that he looked sad for even the briefest moment.
I was knocked back slightly when he threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me. A bark sounded from behind him, and he pulled away to lift Scout in his arms.
“See, I told you she was okay,” Oliver whispered to the pup.
I smiled. How could I not? I was okay, and things were finally getting back to normal—or as normal as they could.
Oliver held the door for me and scolded Scout for standing in my way as I entered. I followed him to the living room and relaxed down into the sleek brown leather armchair. The memories of my last time here, at Christmas, fell over me.
The house was no longer decorated with wreaths and garland. The Christmas tree was gone—nothing but a faded memory that, after everything, I still cherished. My hand flew to my wrist that no longer bore the charm bracelet Logan had given me. It was gone—thrown on the pavement in that alley, hurled viciously to the ground with the condom he’d chucked at me moments before.
I blanched at the painful memory. Here in this room, we were once happy…and even felt almost like a famil—.
No. I shook the thought from my head. My issues with Logan didn’t matter today. I was here to see Oliver.
“Are you listening to yourself? You know she’ll only hurt him!”
My head twisted back toward the entryway of the room as Julia’s voice filtered in. She sounded furious, and the stomping heading in my direction confirmed it.
“It’s my decision to make, Julia, not yours.”
My posture stiffened. Logan.
Focusing on Oliver, who was on the floor in front of me playing with Scout, I frowned. His head dropped low, and it was painfully obvious his little ears were perked.
“I’m sure everything’s fine,” I tried to reassure him with a soft smile. “Grown-ups sometimes forget it’s not nice to yell.”
He shrugged. “Aunt Julia’s mad at Daddy. They yell a lot now.”
My heart broke for him. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Julia loves your daddy very much.”
He looked up at me, then glanced warily to the doorway, listening. The air around us quieted as the muffled voices moved deeper into the house.
Thank God. Oliver didn’t need to hear them fighting, especially if my instincts were spot on and it was about Natasha.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Oliver asked quietly, looking back at me with bright eyes.
“Of course.”
He jumped to his feet, and in a flash was sitting on the arm of the chair beside me. He leaned his tiny frame in, cupping my ear, and whispered, “Mommy came back for me.”
He knew. I wanted to be happy for him. Perhaps Natasha was ready to be a mother; she was so young when she had him. I didn’t know the woman, so maybe I was wrong, but my stomach still clenched—not at the thought of Oliver having his mother back in his life, but at the concern that Natasha wouldn’t be the mother he was hoping for.
I hoped I was wrong.
“Have you seen her?” I asked, concern heavy in my voice. I tried to hide it beneath my smile. Just the thought of Natasha prancing back into their lives to fill the role of mother…of more…left me weary. But maybe it would be good for Logan and Oliver, and maybe it would help me move on. I only wanted to see them both happy.
“No, but they talk about her all the time now. I hear them.” He frowned. “They want her to go away. She won’t, right?”
What could I say? How could I ease his worry? I rubbed my hand down his arm and squeezed his hand. “I don’t know, but no matter what, your daddy’s here.”
I couldn’t lie to him. I knew what it felt like to be young and out of the loop from when my father left. It was sometimes worse than the truth.
His head shook and pulled his hand away before running across the room to catch Scout. When he finally caught the pup, I heard him tell him in a hushed confidence, “She won’t leave. I know it.”
Before I could offer him some words of comfort, our attention was pulled to the heavy sigh heaved in our direction. I glanced up to see Julia standing in the entryway.
“Hey, we didn’t hear you come in, sorry.” She walked into the room and slouched down on the couch across from me.
“It’s all right, Oliver let me in. I told Logan noon, and—”
“Ugh! I hope you can talk some sense into him!”
I looked down at Oliver, who was lying on his stomach a few feet away, his tiny bare feet kicking the air as he played tug of war using a toy Scout held in his mouth.
Julia noticed and ran her hands down her face, then rested them under her chin. “You need to try and talk some sense into Logan, please. He has to understand why it’s a bad idea to let you-know-who back in.”
Julia must not have known that Oliver was well aware of whom she was speaking about. I wanted to grab his hand and take him outside, away from it all, but I couldn’t. He’d have to face it someday.
“I’m sure Logan will make the right decision,” I replied in a hushed voice.
She scoffed. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, Logan rarely makes the
right decision.”
“I thought you were leaving.” Logan entered the room, and I couldn’t find the strength to look up at him. His rough voice vibrated through my chest, sending chills up my spine.
“I am!” Julia pushed off from her spot on the couch and strolled over to Oliver, then bent down to whisper something in his ear. He nodded, smiling.
“I love you, little guy.” Julia placed a kiss on top of his wavy hair. She stood, scowling at Logan, and then turned to me. “Talk to him.”
What was I supposed to say to Logan? Oliver was his son.
With that, she walked away, and I was left with a perplexed Logan searching my expression. His hair was disheveled, and I wondered how many times he’d run his hands through it that morning.
The loose, light-wash jeans he’d matched with a thin black T-shirt were casual and easy. They’d been thrown on with no thought; his sex appeal didn’t take work. The muscles in his chest tightened when he reached down and ran his hand over Oliver’s head, sharing a loving smile with his son.
“Sorry, I came early. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Never apologize, Cassandra.” He sat in the same spot Julia had occupied, his attention trained on his son, laughing as Scout yapped when Oliver overpowered him and held up the toy. “We’re just honored you came over, right Oliver?”
“We missed you,” Oliver answered, not looking at either of us.
“I missed you too, so thank you for having me over.” I smiled. “Now, you haven’t told me: how’s school going? Must be nice to be back after Christmas break.”
I wished I was able to go back myself, but I was out until March. I hated it, but had agreed it was for the best. Attempting to keep up with a group of five-year-olds wouldn’t help me heal any faster.
“Fine.” His tone dropped. That didn’t sound good. Last I remembered, he couldn’t stop talking about school.
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