5. Logan
One Year Ago
Wiping away the tears streaming down my flushed cheeks, I shoved the few belongings I’d grabbed from the apartment into the trunk of my car and sat in the driver’s seat, letting the sting of betrayal burn.
I couldn’t call Scarlett. She’d leave her soon-to-be in-laws in a flash to come beat Richard up. All five feet of her would storm in there and wreak absolute havoc.
Instead, I cried until my eyes hurt, my throat burnt, and I longed for a bottle of water. Down the street, the local bar was filling up with people. The parking lot had quickly filled up, and people were waiting in a long line to get in.
Joe’s had been my first place of employment, and the owner had been friends of my parents. It seemed like the best idea to nurse a beer with him behind the bar. Anything to distract me.
Pulling the sun visor down, I opened the tiny mirror and fixed my smudged makeup. Reapplying my black eyeliner and mascara, I brushed some pink blush to my cheeks, hoping to hide my blotched skin, and then swiped some pink gloss to my lips.
After moving my car into Joe’s parking lot, I made my way inside just as the sun set, casting the world into darkness. The small, poorly-lit bar was at capacity with rowdy baseball players and fans. The place was covered in people sporting Tampa Bay Rays merchandise, and I cringed at the sight of the players loitering at the bar.
“What brings you by, dear?” Joe’s raspy voice caught my attention just as I considered darting out. He was leaning against the corner of the bar, wiping down the counter.
“Just needed to be around someone familiar.” I came to stand by his side, noticing that there wasn’t a barkeep tonight. “Are you short-staffed tonight?” There was a knowing twinkle in his eye, the same my mom used to get when I used to crawl into her lap as a child after a bad day at school.
“Unfortunately, Mark’s wife went into labor earlier, and I didn’t realize there was a big game.” One of the players raised his hand to get Joe’s attention, and I quickly rounded the bar.
“No worries. I’ll help out. Nothing’s changed since I was in college, I’m assuming?” Joe cracked a weathered grin.
“Haven’t changed a thing since your mother helped me arrange this place.” My father and Joe had been best friends growing up, and naturally, my mother became the third musketeer to all their shenanigans. When my dad died from a surgery complication, Joe stepped up and took care of me and Mom, and then when my mom died from cancer, he took me under his wing as though I was always his little girl.
“I need the distraction,” I told him, heading toward the baseball player, who still had his hand raised.
Like most players, his skin was tan from the sun, his teeth perfectly white, which paired well with a grin that I was sure got a lot of girls to drop their skirts, but not me.
“What can I get ya?” I noted his empty glass and saw the guy to his left skim his dark eyes over me. I looked over his dark features—black hair and perfect tan, chiseled jaw. I couldn’t help but wonder just how many girls he had gotten with his eyes alone.
“Whatever you have on draft. My girl swears that all women have good taste, so surprise me.” His friend cracked a smile and shook his head.
“Melanie is a fool, but so are you.” His friend threw his head back and finished the last swig of his Corona. “I’ll have another Corona, unless you can recommend something better?” he asked me, and I thought back to my college days, when I thought beer tasted good.
“Couldn’t advise you on beer. I drank too much in college, and now, I can’t stand it. Corona was good, but only for social drinking. You’re celebrating tonight, so you should try the Blue Moon Belgian White in a bottle and the Firestone Walker on draft.” Both boys nodded in appreciation.
“So, you’ve watched the game today, know your beer, and went to college. Aren’t you a catch?” The guy who had a girlfriend asked, nudging his friend and wiggling his brows. “Sounds like you should get to know her.”
His friend shook his head at his friend. “I don’t date. We’ll take those beers.”
Handing them their drinks a moment later, I nodded at Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious. “I don’t date either.”
The friend cracked up with laughter and raised his drink to me. “Imagine that—a girl who doesn’t want you, man? I love it! What’s your name?” He was friendly and kind, and just what I needed tonight.
“Logan, and you guys?”
“I’m Luke, and this buzz kill over here is my friend, Jaxon. Usually, he’s better company. You’d think he’d be happy we won today, right?” He nudged Jaxon, who rolled his eyes.
“Jaxon, as in Jaxon Dexter, the guy who pitched that 105 mile-per-hour ball today?” Luke’s eyes went big.
“Don’t tell me you’re a cleat chaser in disguise. You actually were there?”
“Not a cleat chaser. My, uh, ex is one of the Braves.” Jaxon perked up. Leaning forward, he rested both his elbows on the counter and stared at me.
“Who’s your ex?”
“Doesn’t matter. Can I get you two anything else?” He settled back into his seat, arms crossed over his chest.
“We’re good for now, sweetheart. Come by in ten minutes with refills. We’re celebratin’ tonight.” Noticing the slight twang in his tone, I noted he wasn’t from Florida.
Moving away from the pair, I filled the orders of some of the other players, who were just as kind. Most of them told me briefly about their wives or girlfriends as I refilled their drinks.
“I forgot how good you are with the guests.” Joe leaned against the back of the bar as I took a small break. “How about a drink? Looks like you could use one.” He was offering me a small shot glass filled to the brim with clear liquid.
Taking the shooter from him, I threw my head back and swallow the tequila. It burned all the way down my throat, warmth settling in my stomach. Some of the guys near me cheered at my execution, but I gave them my back. I wasn’t here to impress them.
“How’d you know?”
“Overheard your conversation with those two over there,” he said, jerking his head the tiniest bit in Luke and Jaxon’s direction. “When did things end with you and Richard?” He nursed a beer, his eyes roaming the room before settling back on me.
“When I walked into our apartment and found him cheating on me.” He poured me another shot, and just as I was about to throw my head back, Luke called out to me.
“Hey, Logan, get us two of those!” Joe handed me two more shot glasses, and I poured the drinks before putting them in front of Luke, who was grinning. “Now, go get yours. It’s not fun to do shots alone.” Joe was already in front of me, handing me the shot before I could reject.
“On three,” Jaxon said, his deep voice sending a shock wave down my spine. “One, two—”
“Three,” I said, throwing my head back and downing the liquid, welcoming the warmth.
An hour later and four more shots down, I was no longer helping Joe man the bar. Instead, I was barely sitting upright on my barstool next to Luke, who was slurring his words with every story he told me.
I knew all about how Luke and Jaxon became friends. I knew that Jaxon had three brothers and was from a small town in the middle of nowhere. I’d heard all about Melanie, Luke’s girlfriend, who he wanted to marry, and I also knew that Jaxon Dexter did not talk a lot.
“I think it’s time you went back to the hotel, man,” Jaxon interrupted Luke when he started to tell me how he thought Jaxon was a class-A douche bag for the third time. “She’s already heard that story.”
Luke flushed and then looked down at his phone. “Yeah, alright. Mel should still be up—might even be in the mood for some fun,” he wiggled his brows, “if you know what I mean.” He stood and staggered out the bar, some of his teammates following.
“Aren’t…” I looked after them and tried to form a coherent thought that would hopefully turn into a sentence. “Aren’t you worried?” My words were slurred, and my tongue was heavy. The music was too loud, and I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep right there on the bar.
“Nah. He’ll make it to the hotel. You, on the other hand—you don’t look good.” He pushed a glass of lemon water in front of me, the same one he’d ordered for himself ten minutes ago.
“I’m not much of a drinker,” I said, sipping on the cold liquid.
“You could have fooled me, sweetheart.” He pushed a hand through his thick hair, and I longed to feel the strands between my fingers.
“My college days are over.” He chuckled at my response as I eold my head up on the bar with one hand.
“You barely look a day over twenty-one.”
“Flattery won’t get you into my pants, Dexter.” He snorted, looking around the bar that was getting quieter as the early morning hours rolled around.
“Not interested in sex, sweetheart. It only gets people into trouble. You remind me of my sisters-in-law.”
“And how is that?”
“Like the world keeps eatin’ you up and spittin’ you out without givin’ you a chance to recover.” Joe convinced the last few people to leave, and then it was just Jaxon and I at the bar, staring each other down.
“Alright, Logan. How are you getting home, dear?” Joe asked, wiping down the bar one last time.
“I’ll take her.” Joe’s eyes lifted to Jaxon and then to me, waiting my consent. I nodded, too tired and drunk to care. I didn’t have a home right now.
I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
My car was the only thing I had—the only safe place to go.
Standing from the bar stool, I swayed on the heels I had stuffed my feet into before walking into the bar.
Jaxon’s big, warm hand rested on my back, and then, his arm wrapped around my torso, pulling me into his side, steadying me.
Outside, a soft breeze blew across my heated cheeks. “How come you aren’t toasted?” I ask, hiccupping.
“I stopped drinkin’ an hour ago and switched to water while you and Luke kept on with the shots. Tequila is never a friend. Surprised you didn’t learn that in college.”
“Maybe I wanted to forget tonight,” I mumbled, seeing my white Kia Soul in the parking lot. It was the only car left. Heading toward it, Jaxon’s grip around my waist tightened.
“Where are you goin’?”
“Home?” I questioned, pointing to the car.
“You do know you are well above the legal limit,” he sighed, and I nodded.
“That’s my home tonight,” I slurred, and understanding flashed in his eyes.
“He broke up with you after the game, didn’t he?” I didn’t want to answer. I wasn’t ready to deal with the pity or the reality of what happened only a few hours ago.
“Can you make me forget?” I turned into his chest, my fingers curling into the black fabric of his t-shirt. His big hands wrapped around my forearms, setting my skin on fire.
“The tequila should help with that,” he whispered, leaning his head toward mine, his nose brushing my temple.
The intoxicating scent of his cologne was driving me wild, and all I wanted in that moment was to feel his lips against mine, to slide my fingers into his thick, dark hair. To forget.
“Please make me forget him?”
He brushed his nose to mine, and I held my breath.
“Are you sure, sweetheart? I leave in the mornin’.” His lips whispered against my heated cheek, and I nearly melted into a puddle right at his feet.
“Don’t make me ask again, Jaxon. I won’t beg.” Sliding his hands down my forearms, he unclenched my fists from his shirt and slid the fingers of his one hand into mine. He fit perfectly…like he was made to find me.
“My hotel’s this way.” His voice was like silk against my skin, the twang in his drawl igniting a fire in my veins.
I needed him.
I needed him everywhere.