Indestructible

by Angela Graham

  Was she trying to sound sympathetic? Because it wasn’t working.

  I lowered my ear to Logan’s chest. He was breathing. That was a good sign.

  “I tried to tell him we should talk to you first—let him break things off before we started up again—but he didn’t want to wait. One thing led to another, and we just ended up here in bed together.”

  Why was she still talking? She tilted her head to the side, watching me smooth back Logan’s tousled hair. The incessant urge to knock him around a bit was unbearable. How had he gotten himself into this mess? The man was in for it when he woke up, but I had someone else to deal with first.

  I recaptured my senses, preparing myself for a long-awaited battle. I lifted my head slowly, piercing Natasha with a sharp stare, seeing through every tawdry façade she’d ever attempted to parade around.

  “You should probably go,” she said, having the audacity to speak to me with determination—almost condescension—in her words.

  Was she insane, or just stupid? I was ready to find out once and for all.

  My laughter was harsh and menacingly brittle when I finally opened my mouth. “You’ve got some nerve.”

  “We never meant for you to find us like this,” she tried to reason.

  “Find you like this? Like what, exactly—about to rape my boyfriend?” I stepped around the bed, moving toward her.

  “Are you blind? We just went two rounds in that bed.”

  More laughter erupted from my throat. “Right, well, considering I was told he’s only been up here a few minutes, I call bullshit. Logan isn’t a minute man, and he prefers to sleep nude when he finishes.” I waved my hand over his fully clothed legs, then nudged my head to the shirt around his bicep. “What happened—his unconscious body too heavy to undress?”

  “You can believe what you want, Cassandra. I know the truth.”

  “The only truth I want right now is whether he passed out drunk or you drugged him.”

  “I don’t need to drug a man to—”

  “Obviously you do.”

  I stepped closer until I was only a few feet away from her. It put her on edge; I could see that clearly. Good. You mess with a woman’s man, you should be very afraid of the consequences.

  She snatched her dress from the floor, pulling it back over her hips and up to cover her breasts. Finally!

  “You and Logan are through. You need to accept that,” she said, trying to sound reasonable.

  I wanted to laugh, although I didn’t find it funny.

  “No, we’re not. I know Logan. He wouldn’t do this to me.”

  “You know nothing about him. I’m the mother of his child! You think just because he moved in next door to you and sweet-talked his way into your panties that he actually loves you? What a joke. You’re just a passing amusement.”

  “Here’s the thing, Natasha: I couldn’t care less what you think about my connection with Logan. It doesn’t involve you, and you’ll never understand what he and I have. It wasn’t some love-at-first-sight, superficial romance. We built this relationship one strong, honest brick at a time, and nothing you do will destroy that.”

  Her sneer deepened. “He’ll get bored of you.”

  Serenely calm, I replied, “Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here now. You really think Logan would ever want you back after you abandoned him and your child? And let’s not forget about taking advantage of his kid brother, who had only pure intentions that you used against him.”

  “Jax wanted me!” she exclaimed, looking surprised at my knowledge.

  I shook my head, folding my arms across my chest. “You used him. And it worked out great for you too, huh? Jax is so ashamed of what he did, so terrified of Logan finding out, that he’ll do practically anything you want—well, almost, considering he confessed everything to me. I’m guessing you didn’t ask him to do that.

  “Do you see what’s happening here, Natasha? Your desperate plans are falling apart all around you. Logan’s going to find out soon enough, and then what? What big scheme are you going to run next before Logan kicks you out of Oliver’s life for good?”

  “Logan can’t do anything,” she barked, fury heavy in her tone. “He’ll be sitting in prison, and Oliver will be with me, away from all of you.”

  I felt sick. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t have to. Seems luck might be on my side for once. Kurt’s death was a happy coincidence.”

  My arms dropped, hands balling into tense fists at my sides. “You won’t get custody of Oliver if Logan goes away.”

  She looked smug, her grin too bright. “Then who will? You?” She chuckled darkly. “You’re not even family.”

  I moved forward until I was inches from her face. “Trust me, nobody in Logan’s family is going to let you take Oliver anywhere.”

  “Watch me,” she spit back.

  My palm connected with her cheek, fast and hard. It wasn’t planned—it was purely an instinctual act, but not one I regretted. It felt amazing; the sting was totally worth it.

  She stumbled back, speechless, her eyes wide.

  “Get out—NOW!” I shouted, watching her cradle her red cheek and scurry around for her heels before she ran out, slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Spurned

  Battling through a field of cumbersome emotions, I gazed down at Logan. He looked so gorgeous and serene.

  I wanted to slap the hell out of him.

  But it would do no good, considering he wouldn’t even feel it, so I went the opposite route. I removed my shoes, slid out of my jeans, and crawled into bed beside him, resting against the headboard and cradling his head in my lap. He never budged—not even a twitch.

  There was no way he’d gotten that drunk. No matter how scary the thought was, I knew Natasha must have slipped him something. Bitch.

  I fought back my rising fury, needing to deal with her later and take care of Logan first. I stroked his cheek, my heart swelling, eyes brimming with tears. I loved this man more than anything¸ and would protect him from everything within my power.

  That was the reason I stayed awake checking his pulse and watching for any signs of distress. When I felt confident enough that there would be no trips to the ER in our immediate future, my eyes slid shut in the darkness.

  It wasn’t long before I woke to the feeling of warm breath caressing my stomach.

  “Sweetheart…so perfect.”

  His almost-tangible words pressed against my chest. My eyes fluttered open, a deliciously familiar mass weighing me down.

  Logan’s head was lost amongst my breasts; my shirt was pulled up, breast freed from my bra and bathed in the warmth of his soft lips. I melted against the sensual and tender sensation. He lavished one nipple, then the next with his exquisite tongue. My head dipped back, an unstoppable moan clawing its way up from my throat.

  It wasn’t long until his movements began to slow and I felt his body relax. He was tired—or still reeling from whatever toxin had taken up residence in his system.

  My fingers trailed slowly up and down the curve of his bicep, tracing the outline of muscle, soothing him into a slumber. Moments later, he abruptly ceased his swirling tongue over my pebbled peak, his entire body going slack.

  He was falling asleep again.

  “Logan,” I whispered, trying to squelch my concern.

  There was a long pause before he slurred, “My angel. Always here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I confessed.

  “I know,” he said in a somewhat incoherent murmur. “Gonna marry you.”

  My breath caught and I froze, my hand stiff against his elbow.

  Seconds ticked by, and he didn’t speak again. My brain sputtered. Was I supposed to respond? I didn’t move an inch, listening as his breath began to even out, his body idling.

  He was asleep.

  I blew out a long-winded stream of air to unload my lungs, forcing myself to unwind. He’d be
en talking in his sleep—nothing more. Forget you heard it, I reasoned to myself.

  My fingers weaved through his short wavy hair, relishing the feeling of him sprawled over me. I couldn’t imagine waking up without him in my life, but there was no way I was ready for that kind of commitment. But of course I couldn’t erase the subject from my mind, instead finding myself focusing solely on what it would be like to be married to Logan West.

  There was no denying how much the idea of spending the rest of my life with him lit me from the inside and placed not-so-subtle hints of bliss around my thoughts. I closed my eyes, reprimanding myself for foolishly hoping for something way too early to explore, but just knowing he felt that way, even subconsciously, eased me back into my own sleep with a smile.

  The next time I woke, Logan was sitting up beside me. The room was still dark.

  My eyes popped opened, instantly shaking me to the here and now when they met Logan’s glazed-over pale blue depths staring over at me. The intensity they held was startling.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, stifling a yawn as I propped myself up higher against the headboard. He remained silent, his eyes pinning me in place.

  “Logan?” Something was wrong. He sat lifeless, his face pained. “What can I do?”

  It was then that he spoke, his words blasting through my fatigue.

  “Marry me.”

  My jaw dropped. The heat from his gaze grew warmer in the dark room, searing right through me. This wasn’t like earlier—this was very much real.

  No. I shook my head; he didn’t know what he was saying. He wasn’t with me, not really. He was still soaring from the drugs.

  “Logan, you need to sleep.”

  He grasped my arms, pulling me into his lap.

  “Marry me. Don’t let me fuck things up again.”

  I sighed, completely drained. “Even husbands screw up,” I said, which was completely true but absurd for me to even be reasoning. Why was I entertaining this? We’d barely begun to officially date. It’s been, what—a couple weeks?

  Something in my words struck him. His hands fell away, releasing me to tug through his hair. He looked lost and restless.

  I sat back up beside him. “Please sleep. We can talk in the morning.” And we would—about a lot of things.

  His jaw clenched, the fire in his features reigniting. “Not yet. I want your answer.”

  I sensed pain behind his tired words and wiped my eyes, reminding myself it wasn’t a dream. “Logan, tonight was all kinds of messed up. Please just sleep.”

  His features hardened. “You love me. I know you do.”

  I reached out and caressed the stubble of his cheek, desperate to soothe him. “Of course I do, and I always will. I’m not going anywhere. But we need to talk about things…in the morning, not now.”

  His hand covered mine against his cheek, moving it over so he could kiss my palm. The act was so tender, yet his expression remained bleak.

  “Marry me. We can leave tomorrow—go to Vegas and make you mine forever.”

  My shoulders slumped on a sigh. It wasn’t exactly a girl’s dream wedding, though it did match the sudden, unromantic proposal.

  I maneuvered myself back, needing space to think of a response that would settle his restlessness. But he didn’t allow it, snaring my knees to lock me in place.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you—not right now, amidst everything going on. And to be honest, I’m pretty sure when that sun rises you won’t even remember this conversation. Now lay down,” I said, keeping my voice gentle but stern. “You need to rest.”

  Logan didn’t reply, his expression slipping to one of stoic regard. I was about to speak again when he hauled me back into his arms, scooting us down to lie flat. He held me snugly against his chest, my head resting over his beating heart. He didn’t push the issue again, and I was thankful.

  When my eyes closed, my thoughts flipped between Logan’s unexpected proposal and all the drama surrounding us. I was unable to fall asleep but grateful when his grip loosened, knowing he’d been able to.

  Moments later, thinking he was fast asleep, I heard him murmur, “I’ll remember.”

  At some point early the next morning, I woke alone in bed. I shot up and threw my feet off the side, relief replacing the growing panic inside me when I picked up the sound of water running in the en suite across the room.

  He was awake, and apparently feeling strong enough for a shower. After falling back into bed, I rolled over and stared up at nothing.

  Logan had proposed. He’d done it while possibly drugged, but still, he wanted to marry me. And judging by the stampede of butterflies in my gut, I knew he was the one. We’d been through so much together, and there would never be anyone else I could love more.

  But I had no idea what I’d say when or if he asked me about it once he reentered the room. It all felt so rushed—not to mention I was still spinning from the last couple days. Last night wasn’t the time to show him just how much damage control he had to endure, but today, if he was conscious, he was fair game. There was no way he was walking out of that room without a damn good explanation of what he planned to do about the Natasha problem.

  I sat up when I heard the shower shut off. A few moments later, Logan stepped out with a towel around his waist, his hair wet and unruly.

  My thighs squeezed together—my body’s typical reaction at the sight of him. Yeah, I could marry him. The man was every woman’s fantasy, and had one of the kindest hearts I’d ever known. He’d love me and protect me.

  Knowing this led me to an overly confident mood, and as I crawled out of the blankets and across the bed, I was sure he’d hear me out.

  “How do you feel?” I asked, starting with a little honey before the bees came out.

  “Headache. The shower helped some.”

  He looked distant, like he was contemplating something, and his gaze flickered around the room before settling on me. He didn’t say anything else, and regarded me with an inquisitive stare instead of his usual bright look of adoration and lust.

  Was he trying to remember what happened the previous night, or wondering what he’d been thinking by asking me to marry him? Either way, I wasn’t feeling so hot under his scrutiny.

  I sat up on my knees and held out my hands for him to come closer. “We should talk.”

  He sighed and walked toward me hesitantly, stopping just out of my reach.

  My arms dropped. He wasn’t going to make this easy. It was hard to yell at someone who looked so miserable.

  Before I could start, he sighed. “I know you didn’t screw around with Jax. It’s been a long week, and seeing you two in bed together was a breaking point. I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

  “I know. I mean, that you’re sorry, not the dick part.” I chuckled, but the humor was lost on him.

  “I need to call my mother and check on Oliver. Didn’t plan on being out all night. He’ll be worried that I didn’t call to say goodnight.”

  The air was thick and uncomfortable. “Right. I think Natasha’s to blame for that.”

  “Yeah.” He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his wet hair, looking exhausted. “I’ll deal with her later. You need a ride home?”

  “My car’s here, and we’ll deal with her now. Do you even know what happened last night?”

  Logan didn’t reply, instead moving farther away. “I’ve got to make some calls. We’ll talk later.”

  “That’s it?” I scoffed, scooting off the bed.

  He didn’t bother to look at me as he opened a door to reveal a small chest of drawers and a couple suits on a hanging bar. “I’ve got things to do right now.” He grabbed a suit and shut the door.

  “No, we’re going talk right now. Natasha was all over you last night. I found you in this room, with her, and she was naked. Ring a bell? If I hadn’t come up here…”

  He pivoted around. His expression was no longer pained—it was all agitation.

  “I had a drink and she
sat down at the bar beside me. Last thing I expected was for her to slip me something.” His phone rang. “Shit, I’ve got to take this. I’ll call you later.”

  “You were out cold last night. How do you even know what she did to you? Do you even care!?” I yelled, irate.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I know she didn’t get what she wanted, considering I still had pants on when I woke up and my dick would have been incapable of an erection. You’re standing here and she’s not, which is the only thing I care about. We’ll finish this later.”

  He kissed me quickly on the cheek and, despite my stunned expression, headed back into the bathroom with the phone to his ear.

  It was an insult. Did he really believe a kiss would pacify an overlooked-once-again girlfriend? After this week, he was severely wrong.

  I saw red. This wasn’t a relationship—and definitely not one headed toward wedding bells. I was fed up with him pushing me away.

  My rage pushed me out of the room, down the stairs, and past the bar before I heard someone call my name.

  I whirled around to see Luke and Julia in a booth together.

  “You all right?” Julia asked.

  “No, I’m not. And you won’t be either if you don’t open your eyes and see that you have one of the best guys in this town waiting around for you! Don’t ruin it.”

  Julia gasped, caught off guard by my abrupt and slightly harsh honesty. I shifted my gaze to Luke, and his lips quirked up as he sipped his soda. “Fight for her. You guys belong together.”

  I started walking again, adding my final words they both needed to hear before I left the building.

  “Logan won’t do a damn thing to stop you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Collide

  The sky outside may have been clear, but it was a dreary Sunday inside my home. I spent it stewing, switching from rage to sorrow between bags of potato chips. Logan didn’t call or text, and his car never appeared in his driveway. I checked more times than I cared to admit.

  It was sometime that afternoon when I was hit with a realization that floored me: I was sitting around and wasting a beautiful day for a man too busy to make time for me. He’d kicked me out of his home, put himself in a compromising situation with his ex, and then blown me off without letting me get a word in edgewise.