I looked down at my coffee and slowly turned the mug in circles. I kept remembering him standing there and watching me being dragged away, the sound of Logan’s feet in the gravel as he walked away when his father held a gun to my head. I felt so betrayed and … God, where was my hero? I wanted Logan to be my hero, damn it. Why hadn’t he fought for me? I wanted him to shout and scream and move heaven and earth … I wanted him to kill his own father.
And yet, that wasn’t fair. I knew it. He did fight for me, but it was in another way. He fought for me more than I ever could’ve imagined. Maybe it was partly guilt that kept me pushing him away, because I had no right to hate him, and I had. I’d said some horrible things to him, and now knowing the truth, the words had to have hurt him. Maybe in his own right, he’d suffered more than I had. He’d grown up in that place, and still, he managed to be strong and determined and fight for what he wanted in life.
Kat put her hand on top of mine. “I saw the way he looked at you at Avalanche.” She leaned back on the stool. “He loves you. I don’t think he’s ever stopped.” The corners of her lips lifted. “We only have one life and … well you never know when it will end. So, I’m thinking you should just fuck him and see what happens.”
I spit up my coffee, spraying it onto the countertop.
She laughed and shrugged. “Just kidding—kind of. Okay, not really. Emily, I’m here for you and will be behind you one hundred percent. I’m also your bestie and will tell you what I think whether you want to hear it or not. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, just means I care. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t say shit. Okay?”
My phone vibrated on the counter between us.
Kat peered at the screen. “Sculpt. Huh. He got your cell number?”
I titled my head and gave her a so what look. I picked it up, plugged in my password, and read the text.
You sleep okay Mouse? xxx
“What did he say?” Kat asked.
“He asked if I slept okay.”
“Are you going to reply?”
Was I? It was no big deal really. Texting was impersonal. But somehow it felt real personal. Logan made it feel that way. Even via text I felt the protectiveness about him that I craved. Was I pathetic because I desired that? But when I went to type a message back, my hand was trembling.
Fine thanks. You?
As soon as I hit send I knew it was stupid, and I couldn’t take it back. Of course he didn’t sleep well. He had a flight yesterday to Chicago then had a gig and was probably up all night.
Slept on the plane. Call you later. Miss you Eme.
How could I not melt after reading that? I closed my eyes imagining his deep voice whispering those words in my ear, and shivers sprinkled like rain drops across my skin. God, he was hundreds of miles away, and I still felt him.
I texted back.
Okay.
No x’s and o’s. No emotions. Simple. Why did it feel anything but simple?
The day was therapeutic, and I nearly forgot all about Logan. Nearly. He only popped into my head, oh, about a thousand times. Havoc felt my tension on the trail ride, prancing, spooking at everything and anything.
The entire day was exhausting mentally, and when I finally crashed in bed it was with my phone sitting in my hand.
I jolted awake to my hand vibrating. Without opening my eyes, I answered my phone.
“Hello?”
“Mouse.”
“Logan?” I sat upright, suddenly wide awake. Then I realized I just called him Logan, not Sculpt, and wanted to kick my own ass to the curb. “What time is it?” I fell back against the pillows, looked at my phone’s time—one in the morning. I sighed putting the phone back to my ear. “I should hang up on you.”
He chuckled and I knew I wouldn’t, not after hearing that sexy graveled sound. Logan rarely laughed, but when he did it was like a hit of something sweet. And damn, I forgot how hot his voice was on the phone. I could picture him lying in bed, his sexy bedroom hair splayed on my pillow, eyes tired and lazy.
“Wanted to say goodnight, Eme.”
Oh. “I could’ve used that hours ago.”
“Eme?”
“Yeah?”
“Wish I could be there with you.” He paused. “I loved that. Us. Together every night. Feeling you next to me. I hated waking every morning knowing what I had to do. Knowing you’d hate and fear me when all I wanted to do was protect you.”
Oh God.
“I’d watch you sleep for hours. Your nose would twitch whenever I stroked your hair and you’d smile then moan and cuddle closer to me.”
I did? Shit.
“I hate you being alone. I should be with you.”
“Alone? Who said I’m alone.” I needed to stop him from saying things like that to me because it lit me up inside and I liked it, but it also scared me because every step closer to Logan meant uncertainty.
Silence. I could hear what sounded like his jeans as he moved.
“Sculpt?” My heart started pounding—hard. Despite knowing we weren’t together, I still was glad he called. It must be that middle-of-the-night stupidity taking over my mind.
His voice was low and angry. “Jesus, Eme. I’m telling you how I feel. Trying like hell here and you’re slexing with—“
“Slexing?”
“Yeah. Sex then sleep. Slexing.”
“Well I’m not slexing or having sex, I’m just sleeping. Well not anymore, but I was, and it was a good dream.”
He swore beneath his breath then what sounded like a groan. “What was it about?”
“What?”
He sighed and over the phone it came out rough and sexy. “Dream, Mouse. What was it about? I want to know everything about you, Eme. Even your dreams.”
Oh. Crap. I scrambled for something to say and came up nothing. So, I wisely moved on. “Listen, Sculpt, I was thinking and—”