I swallowed. My head was muddled and heavier than ever trying to process everything. It killed me that he was hurting, but so was I, and this new information only built an additional wall around the thick prison protecting my damaged heart.
“Julia, between you and me, I appreciate everything your brother has been doing. I really do, and it makes this so hard, but I can’t go there again. I don’t even know what to think about everything you’ve just told me.” My voice lowered from the emotional exhaustion. “I need to focus on getting my life put back together before—”
“Why the hell are you here?” I looked up and found Logan standing in the doorway. Acid dripped from his tone.
“I was just visiting. Calm down.”
“Oliver’s with Jax. I told him you were going over to see him.”
She narrowed her eyes as she stood. “I’m on my way. I just wanted to check in on Cassandra and see how she was feeling.”
“You can see she’s well,” Logan scowled. It was obvious from his stance that he’d heard most of what she’d said to me. His jaw was set, eyes dark.
Julia walked to the door, glancing back to me with a pleading frown. I looked away, unable to take the pressure.
“I said I’m going. God, you need to relax!” Julia yelled, stomping past him and slamming the door behind her.
Silence hung between us for too long before he cleared his throat.
“I was stopping by to drop off the vitamins I told you about.” Logan held out a bottle of pills. “Here.”
“You need to apologize to her.” I stood and grabbed the bottle, setting it on the coffee table.
“She needs to stay out of my personal life. Our relationship has nothing to do with her.”
Relationship? Is that what he called this? I couldn’t keep dragging him on when I knew it was going nowhere. Whether I was another conquest he needed to claim or there was even a small chance I meant more, I couldn’t let anything happen.
I laid it out with a gentle tone. “Logan, I don’t think you should keep coming by.” My eyes locked with his, imploring him to hear me out once and for all. “I mean, this isn’t going to go anywhere, and I don’t want to see you get your hopes up or me broken all over again. So let’s just end this…whatever this is…and both walk away.”
“Why?”
My brows pulled in. “Why what? Logan, I can barely process what happened that night. It’s still a painful mess in my head, and the last thing I can handle right now is trying to date someone I don’t trust.”
“No, why don’t you want to see me get my hopes up?”
I don’t know, because I’m not a complete bitch?
“Because I don’t.”
He stepped forward, standing inches from me. “Because you care.”
“Logan.” I sighed.
“Tell me you don’t care.”
“It’s not enough,” I murmured, his breath hot on my cheeks. I needed to step back, but the couch hit my legs, stopping me from moving. I couldn’t think straight with him that close, so I just spoke quickly.
“I care about your feelings, just like I do Caleb’s or Hilary’s. That’s not enough for what you want.”
“You care as a friend.”
Did I say that? No, he wasn’t a friend. I wouldn’t let him be—not again. I shook my head.
“You’re lying, and we both know it, Cassandra. I know you care, and that’s why I’m going to give you the space you need to make you see that I’m worth letting back in.”
He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to my temple, leaving me breathless, and then turned to leave.
“I’ll come by in a few days. If you need me, you know I’m only a call away.”
The moment the door shut behind him, I slumped down on the couch. He wasn’t going to make it easy on me, and a tiny piece of my heart swelled—a piece of hope that I fought to bury.
He was, however, offering me space and time—things I needed desperately without confusing emotions nauseating me or sexual tension so thick I could suffocate. I was handed a couple days off, and for that, I was grateful.
Chapter Six
Head Games
I spent the rest of weekend hidden away inside, and by Tuesday night, I was beside myself with boredom. The sun had set over the trees as I rested on a chair on my back porch, staring out at the snow falling around me.
It was beautiful and peaceful, and after sitting for over an hour, watching the sunset, I was still in no rush to head inside. Activity in Logan’s house appeared to be settling down for the night, the lights slowly flickering off one after another until only one was left glowing upstairs, at the very end of the hall, in the room closest to my house—his painting room.
I sighed, missing Oliver and Scout. I hoped they were having fun together. As much as I wanted to bring Scout home to keep me company, he was better over there for the time being. I’d planned to visit them multiple times, but it always fell through after I’d look at myself in the mirror. Even though Oliver had seen me at the hospital, I didn’t want to go over until more of my bruises had healed.
For the time being, I needed to keep my distance from everyone and let my body fully recover. Tired, I allowed my heavy head to lean back against the headrest as I tightened the thick fleece blanket covering my coat and flannel pajamas around me.
My eyelids slid shut, the pain meds weighing me down, but something caught my attention and I was drawn back to the Logan’s window, where his curtain was now open. Through the darkness of the night, the light inside illuminated the room.
He was there, shirtless, facing away, staring at a canvas in front of him.
I sat up further, unable to remove my gaze as the muscles in his back bulged with every stroke of the brush. It was as though I was looking through a telescope the way I noticed every graceful movement his body made.
Any of my interest in what he was painting was lost when he stilled, lifting his head slightly and glancing over his shoulder. He’d seen me, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t peel my gaze away.
Ever so slowly, the corner of his lip curled up as his brow arched, with a tempting gleam in his eyes.
Clearing my throat, I dropped my head and shifted in my seat as I settled my gaze on the tree line ahead of me. I closed my eyes, clearing the image of him away. When I opened them again, he was there, standing directly in front of me, not only shirtless but wearing loose, light-wash jeans that hung low and were unbuttoned. They were covered in multiple streaks of dark paint.
“You like watching.” He stated.
“Not tonight, Logan. I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
Instantly, I was pulled from the chair, my blanket falling to the ground as he tugged me into his arms.
“Of waiting?” His lips crashed over mine, demanding and forceful.
I was lost. His hands were everywhere, my shirt ripped away, followed by my red flannel pants. The freezing weather was nonexistent as his hand slid into my panties, sinking two fingers into me.
My breath rushed out, unsure what was happening. It was too late to stop it; my body wouldn’t allow it. Logan lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and it was then that I noticed his jeans were gone and his massive erection was pressing against me.