Wow, Natasha had some gall. He slowly craned his neck back to face me.
“I don’t respond well to threats, and I especially don’t allow someone I despise to tell me what to do,” he continued, jaw clenched. “The moment my fist went through the wall, Natasha was out of bed and already threatening to yell for Oliver, so I left. Called Julia to come stay the night there and came down here for a drink.”
Holy hell, the woman was crazy.
“So what now? She’s really moving in?”
I thought about Natasha living in the same house as Logan, using Oliver. But for what? What was she up to?
“Let’s not talk about her again. Not tonight,” he said.
I was staring down at his hand in thought when he interrupted my troubled mind.
“I think a kiss will help more than a bandage.”
“You wish!” I laughed and slapped his forearm playfully, earning me a wry chuckle and lightening the direction the mood was heading in. I propped my elbow on top of the bar, resting my cheek on my hand.
I was no longer his friend, and even though I felt for his situation and for Oliver, it wasn’t any of my business. As a friendly neighbor, I didn’t owe him anything except perhaps one more offer to drive him home, and then I’d be gone.
“I thought a good nurse was eager to please her patient,” he teased.
I scoffed and glanced down at the bar before looking back up seconds later.
“Seriously, do you want a ride home or not? You’re drunk, and I’m not really in the mood for games.”
“Games,” he mimicked with a thick, disheartening snicker. Something in his mood shifted back to that dark place I’d walked in on originally as he repeated the word again to himself. “Games. I’ve always loved a good game.” His head dipped to the side, tired, hooded eyes locking with mine. “You were the best and worst game I ever played.”
My heart pounded against my chest; the pain was unbearable. Finally, he could admit it. I was nothing but a game. A challenge.
He looked straight ahead again, staring blankly at the rows of bottles perched on the wall ahead of us. His voice came out a rough murmur.
“But then I lost. Not the first time I’ve lost something, but you…” He looked back at me, voice growing, eyes searching mine. “You took more than anyone before. You took a piece of me I can’t get back—I don’t want back. I only want you, and you…you can hardly even look at me anymore.”
What could I say to that? I couldn’t find the words, and it took all my strength to break our shared gaze.
He chuckled again. “I’m not drunk, Cassandra. There’s not enough alcohol in the world to get me drunk enough to forget what I had with you. What we almost had together.” His lips molded into an angry frown. I watched as he spoke, heat rising through me as he laid his deepest fears on the table.
“I almost killed you. I let that bitch get in my head, and it was you who suffered for it. I’m such a piece of shit—an unworthy bastard—and yet I still tried to win you back, wanting to convince you that I could be better, be what you need. But I can’t. I’m no good for anyone, and especially not you. You’re an angel, and you deserve so much more.”
Logan gripped the shot glass that sat untouched in front of him and tipped it back, closing his eyes as the liquid worked its way into his system, then slammed it back down.
“Logan, you’re a good guy. I never would have gotten close to you to begin with if you weren’t. I wish things had been different between us, I’m not going to lie—you know what you meant to me, you had to have seen how much I wanted you—but I can’t forget what happened. The way you made me feel in that alley...I’ve never felt so cheap.” I sighed, twisting my palm over my chin to rub my tired eyes. “Maybe this is for the best. You would have grown bored with me and eventually wanted to move back to the city once Julia graduated. We never would have lasted.”
His jaw clenched. “You really believe that?”
“You can’t expect me to believe that you’d all of a sudden go from sleeping with more women than I can count to just little ole me.” A soft, insecure laugh crept out.
He stared at me silently, his eyes taking in my expression, reading me. I shifted on the stool, uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. What the hell was he thinking?
“Why don’t you see it? You’re so fucking beautiful, and you don’t even see it!” A spark of anger flashed in his eyes. “There was a time I wanted to feel you pressed under me, that sharp tongue of yours put to work in ways you could only imagine. But then somehow I lost myself—forgot about how much I wanted just your body at my control. It was deeper than even I realized.
“It was you, Cassandra—your heart, your kindness—and before I knew what was happening or had a chance to stop it, I found myself lying in bed at night wanting to hold only you. To kiss you, worship you, and finally discover what it was like to make love to a woman.”
I sat there, the lost butterflies that’d been hidden for the past month buzzing to life throughout my clenched gut. My heart raced, and I watched with soft eyes as his hand reached out, the pad of his thumb caressing my cheek and catching the single revealing tear that slid out of my unsuspecting eye.
He placed his thumb in his mouth, sucking it clean before whispering, “Tell me to walk away. Tell me to leave and let you go. Tell me I have no chance, and that you’ll never love me, and I’ll listen. I’ll never bother you again. If you want me to move away, I’ll put my house on the market tomorrow and be gone. I just need you to be honest and tell me. I can’t see you in pain anymore, and I know it’s me that’s hurting you.”
Harsh tears stung my cloudy eyes, his words cutting deep. My eyes never strayed from his. My heart screamed out to him, beating against my ribcage, fighting with everything it had to reach him and beg him to stay. But all I could hear was the voice in my head telling me, “This is it. Your next words will forever change your life, one way or another.”
Could I really let him leave? Could I walk away from the one man who awoke something so pure and raw inside me? What if he was the one—the one I was waiting for?
Could I really live without him? Could I—
It happened in a flash: my body thrust forward, crushing my lips onto his. There was no thought behind it—only need.
Logan reacted instantly, pulling me closer with his hands in my hair, kissing me with a ferocious need. My tongue ran along his bottom lip, searching for entrance, but he pulled back, resting his forehead on mine. “I adore you.”
With a ragged breath, I opened my mouth just enough to slide my tongue into his.
Chapter Fourteen
Bombshells
Heat was all I felt—a scorching wave of warmth prickling my skin, flooding my system, and fueling the arousal building within me as Logan’s tongue parted my lips and dived in, exploring and dancing with mine.
My legs were between his, his hands in my hair. It felt so good, yet my brain was flickering back to life despite my will to block it out.
What am I doing?
No, I wasn’t going to think—not now—just feel. It was amazing and perfect, sating my angry nerves that had been restless for far too long. I kissed him harder, as though there was nothing else in the world I should be doing, as his hands traveled down my back and settled on my hips.