Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
STEVIE
I stir the creamy sauce that I intend to add to my chicken and pasta.
The music is playing, the songs helping to drown out my thoughts of Crash and Valarie. I informed my aunt and uncle what was happening, and Cale again threatened to go and beat him up, which made me laugh, but it is not worth it.
Swaying my hips, I sing loud, and proud, happy that I live alone, because I can dance around the condo in panties and a cami, like I am right now. My balcony is open and the breeze is making the thin curtains sway and dance with the wind, and it looks majestic.
My white twinkle lights that I hung in the living room add to the atmosphere, along with my candles.
I am having a date night for one.
Because, why not?
Solo dates should be a thing— that way you can eat and drink what you want without a man telling you that your choices are wrong, or criticizing what you are wearing.
Then you can come home and play with Bob, and have an orgasm before going to bed, and sleeping like a starfish. I smile over at Glory, who is sleeping on her bed, lifting her head now and then when I badly hit a high note. She huffs and whines, like she is telling me not to quit my day job.
The phone for the door rings, bringing me out of my sing-fest. Rushing over, I pick up.
“Hello?”
“Stevie, it is Rodney. I have a Logan Vaughan here to see you again. I thought I should ask if this man has approval to come up, as I believe this is the man who upset you last night. If he upset my daughter, then I would have a few choice words with him about how to treat a woman.”
I sigh, and my nose burns. I hardly know this man, but he is so protective of me.
“It is fine. You can send him up.”
“Okay. Hit the button if you need me.”
“I will. Promise.” He is talking about the red SOS button that is on the condo phone.
Once I hang up, I run to my bedroom to slip into some clothes. Pulling a plaid shirt on over my white cami, I tug on some black leggings. Checking my hair in the mirror in my room, I grimace at how bad I look.
Running the brush through my hair quickly then pulling it up into a small ponytail, I dig through my makeup bag for some lip gloss.
I stand frozen as I stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes are no longer bloodshot, but I look tired.
Why am I making an effort for this man? He doesn’t care about me.
I have no idea why he is even here. It is not like we have anything to talk about. He made his choice and it was not me.
There is a knock on my door, making me jump. My heart thuds in my chest, and I have to catch my breath.
“Here goes nothing.”
Taking my time, I stop at the kitchen to turn off my pasta sauce so it doesn’t burn. This man does not deserve any effort or energy from me.
My stomach knots with every step, and my anger simmers. I need to hold onto that, so I do not let him talk his way out of what he has done.
Another knock comes, just as I get to the door. With a deep breath, I unlock it and pull it open.
Crash stands in front of me, in a crisp white T-shirt under a denim shirt and his cut. He looks tired, and his skin has lost some of its color.
“What do you…” I do not finish my question before he pushes his way into my condo. “Hey.”
He ignores me, stepping into my living room and making himself at home on my sofa. He kicks his booted feet up on my coffee table like he has done many times before.
Glory speaks, and Crash smiles at her.
“What, beautiful?”
She whines again.
“I know, I won’t leave you alone with Mommy again.” She huffs, and shakes her head at him, and it sounds like she is saying ‘no.’
“I won’t leave you either.” He scratches under her chin and my traitor dog swoons at him.
“Feet off.” I push them off when I walk over to where he sits. “What are you doing here, Crash?”
“Logan.”
“Nope.” I cross my arms.
Glory speaks and I swear it sounds like ‘Logan,’ but I shake off the thought.
We stare at each other, neither of us saying anything for a time, but I hold firm. I have not done anything wrong— that was all him. He lied to me, then he tricked me into sleeping with him and he went behind my back to his ex-girlfriend.
I notice a break in his hair on the side of his head, and I fight everything in me to not ask him what happened. A deep need to see how he was hurt is buzzing through me, but I hold firm.
He is not mine to care for.
“I came here to talk to you. To clear everything up.” He looks at me with regret in his eyes.
My fists clench tightly under my armpits, my hurt still front and center.
“I think you have said everything there is to say, Crash. We have nothing to talk about. So you should leave.”
“Stop using my road name.”
“Stop lying to me,” I snap.
He sighs, leaning forward. His elbows rest on his knees, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I told you that Val came to the clubhouse beaten to hell, really fucking hurt. Or so we thought. Bolt treated her but she was mouthy and accusing him of shit. Racer asked me to stick close to her, to see if she would slip up on information about her crew. She was tight-lipped with us when it came to information on her crew, but she was fucking feeding her them information on the club. Not the shit she wanted, but anything she thought was useful, and little did she know that we knew this. What we didn’t know was why. That came to light this morning.”
I sit in the only chair in the room, and he frowns at that. Was he expecting me sit next to him? Fat chance.
“What happened this morning?”
“I will get to that.” He sighs. “We got information that it was her crew who chased you. On her order. Before the club could step in and handle it, we got the call about the race, so we decided as a club that I would race, and that Val would be at my side, to draw out her crew. There were members placed all over the race site, plus Grady had two deputies there to help.”
I gawk at him when he gives me that information.
My cousin helped the club. Why didn’t he tell me?
“I was a dick to you, because you had a target on your back. Val needed to see that you were not a threat to her, or what she thought she was building with me. I was a fucking fool for that part, because she had her own plan.”
“What plan?” My voice is barely a whisper, as all of the bad things she could plan swirl around in my head.
“It was Grady who arrested Vinnie, so her plan was to hurt his loved ones, you included, as payback. Me being back here, and us reconnecting was the icing on the cake for her. She used me to hurt you.”
“Well, she succeeded at that part of her plan, didn’t she?” He nods, as tears fill my eyes.
“Baby, I never touched her. I swear on my patch. I have not had sex with her, or done anything with her in years. What you saw at the race was a fucking act. Thinking on it now, I should have brought you in on the plan, but you know.” He shrugs.
“Club business,” I sob.
Everything comes crashing down on me: what I thought we had a chance of building, the way he made me feel like a fool, and then the pain and hurt he caused last night.
I have cried more since Logan has been back than I ever have over any ex-boyfriend.
“Baby, please don’t cry.” He moves to me, dropping to his knees at my feet. His hands land on my thighs, rubbing up and down, soothing me. “Fuck I hate this.”
“You really hurt me,” I cry, and he nods.
Glory sits next to him whimpering at my upset, pushing between us, and resting her head on my thigh.
“I know. I am so fucking sorry, baby. If you forgive me, I will never keep things from you again. Cheating is not in me, Stevie, I swear it. When I told Pres I was coming here, I told him that you needed to know everything. He agreed. Baby, I want you and only you.”
He swipes his thumbs under my eyes, catching my tears.
Warmth blooms in my chest at the way he looks at me, like every word coming out of his mouth is the truth. It makes something inside my chest soften.
But with what has happened before, a pinch of caution sits front and center. I want to trust him — God, I do, but part of me is still worried that I am being played.
“How did this happen?” I touch the side of his head.
“Val hit me with one of Racer’s motorcycle statues.” I wince, knowing how much that would have hurt.
“Can I kiss you?”
I stare into his ocean blue eyes and god, I have missed them. I meet his gaze, and I see the concern that I have been feeling about us reflecting back at me. His eyes seem sorrowful and tired.
With a nod, he gives me the smile that I have missed. The bright grin that lights up his handsome face.
His lips press to mine, and I sigh, a wave of content washing over me. Pressing harder against him, I lick the seam of his lips telling him I want in, to feel his tongue against mine.
“Fuck, I missed kissing you,” he murmurs.
“I missed you, too. Do not hurt me again, Logan.”
He shakes his head. “Never, baby.”
He lifts me up, and my legs go around his waist, my arms tightly around his neck while we kiss.
“Where is your bedroom?”
“Second door on the left,” I instruct him.
“Glory, sorry, baby, but this is between Mama and me.” He shuts the door behind him, locking her out.
She bitches on the other side, clearly not happy about being left out.
Once we get to the bed we cling to each other, his arms wrapping around me as if he's afraid to let go. I melt into his embrace, feeling the familiar comfort that I've missed so much. Even though this is super new, I feel like we fit, and belong together. I just hope he doesn’t hurt me again.
“This doesn’t fix everything, Logan.”
He pulls back to look at me, his eyes dark with lust and need for me. With a slight nod, he speaks.
“I know. We will work on it together.”
Still, my heart remains cautious, its cracks not yet mended.
I want to trust him, to let go completely, but part of me holds back, protecting itself from being hurt again. Do I think he will? I am not one hundred percent sure yet.
Even so, I can't deny the pull I feel toward him, the longing that makes me hope we can find our way back to those few blissful days we had before it all went to hell in a hand basket.
His hands trail over my body, every inch of me he touches igniting into flames. My nipples tighten with need, and my pussy clenches with every touch.
His lips move down across my jaw, over my neck, and I arch for him, giving him better access to do what he wants.
Right now, he can do whatever he pleases. God, I am so freaking easy. I am sure that feminists around the world would be so disappointed in me for jumping into bed with him right away.
There was always a voice that kept at me, saying that he would cheat on me, but thinking and seeing are hard to fight with.
“Oh, god,” I whimper when he sucks on a part of my neck, no doubt leaving a mark on me.
“Mine,” he says when he is finished, and he pulls back to look at what he has done.
“Proud of yourself now?” I smart off.
He smirks. “Fuck, yeah; people will know that you are taken.”
“Just by this?” I point to my neck.
He grinds down on me, pressing his hard-on against the juncture of my thighs, making me moan from how nice it feels.
“No. I will do more, soon.” He winks.
Before I can ask what he means, he is on the move, pushing my shirt up, kissing my torso, and licking my belly button.
“Oh, why does that feel so good?” I pant.
Logan grins up at me with those sexy bedroom eyes and I am a freaking goner.