by Mj Fields
“What?” I gasp. “Logan is going to be so—”
“I’m fine with it,” he says, walking over as he opens a bottle of water then handing it to me. “You just keep your ass on this side of the building, and we’ll all get along just fine.”
I look at him in shock.
“I’m joking, London. I said you’d be fine, and you will.”
He walks away, and then I look at Mom.
“See?”
“London, look around and ask yourself, who in this room doesn’t have your best interest at heart. The answer will be no one.”
“I hurt him,” I whisper.
“Did you apologize?”
“Profusely,” I admit.
“Do you think Logan is unintelligent?”
“No, Mom, of course not.”
“Do you love him?”
I nod. “So much.”
“Then you two are in the same chapter of the same book, and you just need to work your way back to being on the same page.”
Mom and her books, I think as I snuggle into her. “I love you more, Mom.”
“We love each other more,” she says, kissing my head.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
* * *
Come Again
Logan
During dinner, I watch Keeka and the girls’ interactions, specifically Jamie and hers. I know she and Mitch had issues because he didn’t know whether he was Leddie’s father or not, so I expect a little animosity. However, there is none.
While Sleeping Beauty caught up on her sleep, and I stayed with Mitch, watching season after season of Justice in bed with him. Somehow, the three of them moved in right under my nose.
It was actually a great decision made by Brody. A lot of moving and effort done by the entire family for her, and I suppose for me, as well.
Keeka being thrown amidst all this without me to lean on, without London to step in when she was concerned Keeka would revolt, worked out for the best. Keeka actually seems comfortable, and dare I say, content, even happy now.
Lisa and Christy are sharing a room, while Jamie and London are, as well. They are all set up, and I feel a bit guilty that I didn’t help.
Keeka and Leddie have the master suite, which they will occupy in a few weeks. For now, they will stay with me.
Everyone is in the living room of the girls’ place, sitting on one of the two sectionals that magically appeared, watching some musical on the TV that also magically appeared. I’m in the kitchen, trying to keep myself busy.
I look at my watch, wondering what the fuck I was thinking inviting that asshole here after the other night, after what went down the last time we were in the same place. The answers are still the same.
I need to see with my own eyes that he’s not into her. If he is, I need to see if she likes the attention. If she does, I’m going to put an end to this shit as soon as she gets better.
When Brody called me and wasn’t a complete dick, I knew something was up. When he told me that he thought I was right, that she should be here, I thought maybe it was a fucking dream—or, well, a nightmare—because, until I finally read those messages she sent, and until he told me what went down in the vehicle when they left my old place, I was sure it was.
It may not be the nightmare I imagined, but it sure is going to be hell having her here with her basically throwing the “fuck me” signal around. I will not be fucking London Fields, not ever.
I look down at my phone when I get a message from Fletcher, and then I hit the app that controls the security system downstairs, compliments of one big fucking German named Clive. Then I shoot Fletcher a message
Fourth floor. Take a left off the elevator.
My fucking heart is in my throat as I watch her curled up with Emma. I take a mental picture of how damn beautiful she is, my first love, and wait for what I know is going to happen. That girl is going to crush me.
When the doorbell rings, I take a deep breath then pull my hat down as I walk to open it.
Fletcher Reeves is standing there in grey dress pants and a pea coat with a Burberry scarf wrapped around his neck, clearly not tight enough since he’s still breathing. I want to mention he forgot his fucking bow tie, but that would be a dick move, and I’m trying to be on my best behavior.
“Come on in,” I say, stepping back.
When he wipes his feet off on the mat outside, I look down at his shoes. Loafers. I want to say, “It’s fucking snowing out, douchebag,” but I hold that shit back, too.
He unbuttons his coat and removes his scarf, folding both over his arm. “Thank you for...” he pauses and looks at me, “inviting me?”
“Wouldn’t want you to miss running your lines on account of London not being there.”
He pursues his lips, and I see amusement in his eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing, Logan. Again, thank you,” he says then looks around the room.
I look over as London looks at me like I have lost my mind. She’s not wrong. I’m pretty fucking sure I have.
“Hello, London,” he says before he looks past her and around the room.
She stands and smiles. “Hi, Fletcher. Is everything okay?”
He holds up his man bag, or murse, or whatever the fuck that thing is, and nods toward me. “Logan invited me to run lines with you at your new place.”
She looks at me in confusion, which changes to a fucking sweeter than Skittles smile. “Thanks, Logan.”
I nod then look at Brody, who is leaning against the counter with a shit-ass smirk on his face, which pisses me off, and no, I’m not going to fucking let it slide.
I walk over next to him and grab some leftovers off the counter.
“Are you gonna make him a plate?” he asks.
“I’m going to do my best not to fucking strangle him with that goddamn scarf,” I sneer, not looking at him.
He chuckles.
I snap my eyes to him. “It’s not all that fucking funny.”
“Why on earth would you invite him here when you clearly despise him?”
“Because she doesn’t,” I tell him.
He smirks.
“Still not funny,” I tell him.
“She doesn’t like him the ways she likes you,” he whispers.
“She loves me,” I tell him.
“And you dangle carrots in front of her, hoping she changes her mind?” He’s fucking pissing me off. “Do you think he’s a better man for her?”
I turn and look at him, hiding no fucking emotions. I’m pissed.
“Do you?”
I feel the muscles popping in my jaw as I try to hold back every damn thing I want to say to him.
“Logan, Logan, Logan,” he sighs, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he walks past me.
What. The. Fuck?
I need a fucking distraction. Thankfully, Keeka, Josie, and Lexi walk out of the master suite, Keeka burping Leddie. She spots Fletcher and immediately looks at me, no doubt wondering what the hell he’s doing here. Then she walks quickly over to me.
Before she says a word, I take Leddie and tell her, “I invited him.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“Hate’s a strong word,” I tell her, trying to take the high road and leaving out, “so is murder.”
I glance at London, who’s next to Emma. Fletcher is sitting in a chair on the opposite side as them. The girls are all talking and laughing.
London looks at me and smiles. I lift my chin then turn away.
Looking down at Leddie, I see she has what appears to be a smile on her face.
“Look what you did.” Josie nudges me. “You made my...” She pauses and looks around, then leans and whispers, “great-grandbaby smile.”
Although I’m pretty sure she just needs to burp, I don’t tell Josie that. “Maybe we can get her to call you Grandma the Great.”
She smacks my back. “I love it.” Then she looks behind me. “God bless, what is it with you Links boys and those asses?”
>
I hear London chuckle and look over at her. She closes her eyes and looks down.
“Grandma...” Lexi groans then looks sideways at Keeka.
“What, Lexi? Should I hide the fact that I have no filter in front of Keeka?” She laughs. “Honey, she’s gonna catch on soon enough. We Fields are quick.”
Lexington laughs. “I can’t wait to be older like you.”
“That’s twice today you’re wishing away your youth, Lexi.” Josie shakes her head at her. “Don’t be doing that. With age comes accountability, and trust me, that ain’t no fun.”
“Accountability?” Lexington asks.
“Yeah, that, my dear, is a bad word.” Josie laughs.
I watch how Josie looks at them all, even Lexington who is not hers by blood, just as Maddox isn’t, yet she still seems to adore them. Hell, she even likes me. She walks around and gives them each a hug goodbye, even fucking Fletcher, who she doesn’t know from a bag of assholes.
Brody, Emma, Tessa, Dad, and Lexington are giving their goodbyes, as well.
Dad asks me if I will take a walk with him, and as much as I hate to leave her with him, the V squad is here, so I nod.
Keeka takes Leddie from me and looks back at the girls.
“Stay and chill, Keeks. I’ll be back.”
She takes a deep breath and nods.
“You got through, Josie.” Dad laughs. “These three are nothing.”
I see Brody take London’s hand. “Going to steal this one from you all for just a moment.”
I look back at Dad. “Ready?”
He nods.
§
Dad walks to my place and opens the door. “You have a lot going on.”
I nod. “You know...”
He smiles. “I do know. When you have kids someday, you’ll know just how well I know.”
“Don’t push it, Links,” I hear Brody say as we round the corner.
Dad laughs, knowing he hit a nerve.
I lock eyes with him. “Her being here isn’t so I can have my way with her.”
He narrows his eyes.
“I’m serious. I’ve told her many times that it isn’t happening.”
Tessa laughs, and Emma looks down.
“Do you think we’re ignorant?” Brody asks.
“You want the truth?” I smart back. “You want a play by play of what London and I have done in private?”
“No.” Dad laughs nervously.
“A play by play isn’t necessary,” Brody sneers. “But please don’t take me for a fool.”
“Don’t act like one then. You don’t know me from any other boy who’s ever wanted to bang your daughter, but I’ll tell you the same thing I told her.”
“Oh, dear God,” Emma whispers and looks down.
“If shit went down now, it wouldn’t be good. She’d never fucking recover.”
“Logan...” Tessa says, putting her hand on my forearm. She’s never, not once, tried to play Mom to me.
“He wants the truth, I’m giving it to him.” I turn back toward the angry Brit. “I’m not going to fuck your daughter until I know damn well she and I are both ready. We aren’t there.”
“From what I understand, you haven’t been too choosy in the past,” Brody huffs.
“Like you’ve been?” Tessa laughs at him, and Emma sucks in her lips. “Brody, you know I adore you and London, but if my stepson is telling you he hasn’t had sex with her, he hasn’t. If he’s telling you they aren’t ready, they aren’t. And if I were you, I’d be ecstatic that my daughter was in love with a man like him. The alternative could be a rock star who flew her to New York City, had sex with her, and then threw her back to her family. Then, after breaking her heart, fucked her backstage after a concert and discarded her again.”
Brody’s eyes narrow at her.
Dad chuckles. “She’s got a point, Hines.”
“I’ve yet to get to my point,” she says, looking away from Dad and back at Brody. “Collin and I loved your son, accepted him, and forgave his mistakes. We saw past all the troubles and looked at the man he was becoming.” She wraps her arm around my waist. “Logan’s already a man. He’s already proven himself more times than you even know that he cares about London’s wellbeing. So, I’m going to ask you to remember how Collin treated Maddox, and not how Lucas treated Thomas before finding out Ava was pregnant. Then I’m going to tell you that this one”—she squeezes me a little—“he’s my son, and you need to pull it together or you’re gonna have me to deal with.”
Emma smiles at Tessa while Brody runs his hand through his hair.
“I’d like you all to remember that I was the one who told you I thought he was right, that she should be here. But I can’t give him permission to have sex with her.”
“I’m not asking permission,” I tell him. “I’m not gonna give you a play by play if it does happen. But sleep well, Brody, knowing tonight I’ll probably just fuck my hand like I have for months now.”
Dad busts out laughing, and so do Emma and Tessa. Brody looks down to hide his own amusement. It wasn’t meant as a joke. It’s the fucking truth.
Feeling a little self-conscious, I redirect the focus away from what really is none of their fucking business. “We have two weeks until this fundraiser. Can we focus on that and not my sex life or lack thereof?”
§
When Keeka shoots me a message, I go back to the girls’ place where London and Fletcher are running lines while the girls are giving them feedback.
London smiles when she sees me, and it’s not a weary one, an exhausted one, or a sad one. She’s in her element, and my God, she’s even more beautiful.
“Break?” Fletcher asks.
London nods but doesn’t look away from me. She’s still smiling.
I nod, she nods, and then I open the fridge. “Anyone want a drink?”
“Water please,” the girls and Fletcher answer.
“Let me help,” London says, walking up beside me. Then she whispers, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is good,” I tell her as I stand up straight with six water bottles in my hands. “I got this. You go do your thing.”
She wraps her arms around me and hugs me. I bend down and kiss the top of her head. When she then looks up and sighs, I look at her, really fucking look at her.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
She presses her head to my chest and squeezes me. “So are you.”
When she steps back, I see tears in her eyes.
“What’s that for?”
“I don’t ever want to fight with you again. It hurts, you know?” she whispers.
“Yeah, pretty, I know.” I nod to her friends. “Go.”
She smiles and grabs two of the bottles.
I legit wait to see who she gives them to, like it’s some fucking sign. Keeka gets the first, Jamie the next, and my dumbass feels much better as I hand Fletcher, Lisa, and Christy theirs. Then I open London’s and hand it to her.
“You guys have a good night,” I say, turning to leave.
“Stay and watch?” London asks.
I look back at her.
“Please?”
How can I say no to that?
§
It’s two in the morning, and I can’t sleep knowing she’s so fucking close. I look out the window, see a light on, and her silhouette. Clearly, she can’t sleep either.
I watch her and realize she’s dancing. I see her turn and stop. Then she raises her leg behind her, toes pointed at the damn ceiling. Her lean body appears to be in a straight line.
It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. It’s also making me fucking hard knowing she’s that damn flexible.
I sigh, knowing I’m going to be rubbing one out more than once a day if she keeps that shit up.
I walk out of my room, grab a bottle of Jack, and laugh, thinking I’m about to have a date with my fucking hand while watching a private performance by the girl I love.
I watch her mov
e, stretch, and twirl as I drink, wishing I had bought a pair of binoculars like she mentioned.
When my dick is so hard I can’t stand it, I push down my boxers and stand at the window, gripping the base tightly and stroking it slowly up to the head. When she stops and walks away, I groan, thinking I’m going to have to finish myself off without the visual.
I see the reflection of my phone light up and walk over to grab it.
London.
I sent a text saying goodnight and you didn’t reply. So, goodnight again.
I reply immediately.
Phone was dead. Can’t sleep?
I look out the window as she sits on the bed, holding her phone. The floating bubbles start to appear as she types, then they stop. I look up as she flops back on the bed, seemingly frustrated.
I’m okay.
I saw you dancing.
The bubbles immediately appear.
How did you see me?
Look out the window.
She gets up and walks over. I hold up my phone so she sees the light.
Was watching you dance. You looked amazing.
Are you okay?
I’m good.
Do you want me to come over?
No, London, watching you dance and having a couple drinks made things real hard over here. Stay put.
Hard?
Yeah, I’ve got it handled.
After I send it, I regret it.
Does that mean you’re...
Jerking off while I watch you dance? Yeah.
I watch her cover her mouth as she reads my text then looks out the window.
Binoculars are now being added to my shopping list.
I could come over and cuddle.
Not a good idea right now. I’m on a date with Jack and Rosie.
I look at the window as she receives my text.
She walks away and turns on the light. Now I can see her.
You’re missing out, and so am I.
You need sleep. So do I.
I slept better than I ever have after the last time we cuddled.
You mean after you came?
I grip my cock, picturing her face as she fell apart.
You’re lucky you’re a guy.
I get an idea. A great idea.
I take a picture of my hand gripping my cock. Then I crop it so you don’t see my dick, just my hand gripping it. I send it and then start typing.
