Chapter 23
Penelope
I’m quiet on the ride home from dinner, and guilt gnaws its way through my gut because I know my silence is eating at Logan. I see it in the way he’s bouncing his knee, and how his eyes flick between me and the window, like he’s afraid the second Javier stops the car, I’m going to bolt.
I’m lost in an altered state of denial and panic as I begin to unravel.
Carrie’s gone, leaving me to sort through the chaos bubbling inside me alone, and I’ve chewed the newest growth off three nails already. But I’m numb to the pain, tearing the skin around my cuticles until I bleed, because I’m not ready to face this.
Logan loves a fraud.
A nobody.
A woman who has absolutely nothing to offer a man who has everything.
Losing my apartment? That sucked. The bad relationships, worse dates, and being out of a job? All a bit of bad luck.
But now I’m sitting here, peeling away layers of my life after an unforgettable night with a man who’s put a roof over my head, cared for me without being asked, and repeatedly refused to give up on me, and suddenly, I can’t deal.
When Javier pulls to a stop in the circle drive outside the apartments, our gazes lock.
“We need to talk, Pen.” My name is a rough, gravelly command he knows damn well I’m going to ignore.
A shiver skates up my spine when I shake my head and place two fingers on the door handle.
Try it, his scowl conveys. Just know, you won’t get very far.
One, two, three…I count my pounding heartbeats. If I run, I don’t have to face the truth. Four, five, six… If I run, he can’t force me to accept that, despite it all, I love him, too. Just as much as I always have, only more so.
“Don’t—”
I throw the door open and scramble out of the car.
“Goddammit,” I hear him grit, but I’m barefoot, which means I can outrun him, and absolutely nothing is going to slow me down until I’m safely locked inside my apartment.
I pump my arms and legs as hard as I can, feeling the cool grass of the courtyard against the soles of my feet and the wind whipping my cheeks.
The stairs blur once I reach the railing, dashing for the door with my blood thumping in my ears.
“Shit.” I don’t have my hand on the knob for longer than a second before I realize Logan has my keys.
He’s already at my back, tsking in my ear and jangling them beside my face. “At least give me a challenge, sunshine.”
“Go away,” I pant, keeping my voice shockingly calm, despite him spinning me around to face him.
I press my spine against the warm metal of the apartment door, wishing I could melt into it until I disappear altogether.
“Christ, Penelope, you’re acting like I committed a crime here.” He backs up an inch, giving me space I didn’t ask for, but space he knows I need. “What are you running from?”
“I don’t know,” I bite back. “You, me, every-fucking-thing.”
“Hey, hey… Just breathe for a sec.” Inhaling and exhaling on his cue, I listen to the hypnotic tone of his voice, taking three huge lungfuls of air. “There you go, nice and easy.”
I’m shivering as my body filters through the panic and adrenaline, one particle at a time.
“You and that mouth have never had a problem being straight up with me. What’s going on?”
“I… I can’t love you.”
I focus on the tiny dirt pebbles between our feet. The moment I see the rejection on his face, I’ll cave, and I have to hold my ground on this. I have to.
“Why not?” he asks.
I break so easily, dragging my stare up to his, and the porch light plays with the angles of his handsome face, dancing with the shadows in every dip, hollow, and curve.
I sputter at the hint of a smile on those full, tempting lips.
He’s not upset?
“Well, it’s a pretty long list of reasons, actually.” My shoulders are squared in my I-mean-business stance, but he only finds my posturing amusing.
After unlocking the bolt beside my head, he pushes the door open behind me. “I do love your lists.”
I stumble backward, putting heaping amounts of space between us as he helps himself inside.
“We’re never going to work, Logan.”
“Oh?” He drops the keys onto the counter before leaning a hip against the edge. “Well, do elaborate, sunshine. You’ve got me on pins and needles over here.”
“All right, smartass. Why don’t we start with the glaring fact that my dad is going to freak when he finds out about us? And yours? I don’t even want to know what will happen then.”
He’s already shaking his head before I finish. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks.”
“How can you say that when you’re hiding me from him? You don’t want Silas to find out you’ve been with me because he hates me, and I-I don’t want him to hurt you.” I choke on the last bit, tamping down the protective rage that always threatens whenever I think about his scars.
“He doesn’t…” Logan sighs. “Those days are long gone, and it’s more complex than that, okay? I’ve got a plan. I just need you to trust me.”
God, how I want to. Twelve years of yearning and wondering, only to have him here, my everything, standing across this very room. And I’m too chicken shit to claim him.
“It’s not just that. It’s that you and I no longer want the same things. You prefer to be behind a desk and work a nine-to-five, and I prefer literally anything else. I’m nowhere near office material, and we both know it.”
He crosses his arms, unconvinced. “I would never force you to work with me. Though, it’s worth mentioning, you’re the reason we sealed that deal with Adventure Park. Declan showed me the layout you helped him with, too, and I think you’ve got great potential as a designer.”
Me? A designer like my mother? Not possible.
“What about the fancy apartments, clothes, and cars? You’ll be embarrassed to tell people you’re with someone who shops at thrift stores and rides the bus. Not to mention, I’m late to everything, and you hate being late almost more than my bare feet.”
“For your information, I love your bare feet.”
I cram my fingers in my hair, tugging the strands until my scalp stings enough to release some tension. Because he’s being annoyingly heart-melty when I’m struggling to keep the damn thing intact.
“The point is, you’re a planner, and I go with the flow. Don’t you think you’re going to get sick of me running amuck, doing whatever I want, whenever I want? You don’t want a family, and I want the whole experience. The wedding, the babies, the messes, and everything else that comes with it. You don’t want those things, but that’s not changing for me. It’s the one standard I refuse to give up for anyone, even you.
“I’ll never sit still. I’ll never be quiet. I’m impulsive, reckless, and I don’t like to conform. You might come home one day, and I’ll have painted the whole house blue. And when you ask me why, I’ll say, ‘Because it’s Bluesday,’ and it won’t make any damn sense, but it’ll have to be enough because that’s who. I. am.”
Logan slowly lowers his arms and steps across the living room until we’re nose to nose. “That’s just it. I’ll come home. I said I didn’t want those things because denying my desire for them was easier than simply hoping for them, but I was wrong.”
He removes my fingers from my mouth when I try to ease my anxiety, and when he cups my cheeks, he looks at me as if I’m precious to him. “You could paint our house in rainbows for all I care, as long as it’s you greeting me at the door with your freckled nose wrinkling and a smile for me to kiss from your lips.”
I blink, then swallow hard beneath his roving hands. They don’t stop until his thumbs easily trace the column of my neck in long, smooth motions.
“I’m not afraid of what you believe are flaws, because every one of them endears me to you. I like seeing you in high heels because your legs command attention with every step you take. I enjoy working with you, not only because your presence soothes me, but because, regardless of what you think, you’re such a natural with people, and they flock to you because you’re true and genuine. And yes, I’ve developed a habit of predictability, but it’s your spontaneity that gives me life.”
I take two steps backward, gasping when my back hits the wall, and Logan’s hands flatten on either side of my head. That stare makes me feel desired, revered, and protected.
“How can you be so sure?” I whisper.
“I asked you something similar once. How you made decisions without fear of the consequences, and you told me that you weren’t always sure… But you were sure about me.”
Goosebumps prickle up the sides of my legs at the memory. I was so eager to give him everything I had without knowing how much pain losing him would eventually bring.
“You think we’re incompatible, when really, we’re two halves of the same whole. It’s not a coincidence that we never truly moved on. There’s not a woman on this fucking planet who compares to you, Penelope, and I bet deep down, you felt it, too. Every man who ever touched you, kissed you…” He pauses, inhaling while closing his eyes for a moment. “Nope. Fuck that. If I think about it, I’m going to want to kill them.”
I let a weak laugh slip. “You’re too pretty for jail. Bet you wouldn’t last a week.”
His nails grind into the wall beside my head, his body practically vibrating with the need to touch me, but he bides his time, waiting until I’ve fully given in. “We’re yin and yang, Pen. We always have been, and nothing’s changed.”
Those words are a whisper away from my lips, but still I try to convince him of what I’ve known my whole life. That I don’t fit. That I’ll never quite meet his expectations, just like I’ve never met my parents’ or even Carrie’s before tonight. “But… I have nothing. If it weren’t for you, I’d be homeless and jobless.”
“No. You’d find a way without me, but I don’t want you to. I need you by my side, not as a woman to be looked after, but as a partner. The way it should have been, the way I wanted it to be, and the way it can be now.”
A shiver ripples through me when his mouth lowers beside my ear.
“I’m going to remodel Seaside, and whether Ricardo likes it or not, I’m going to gut the group home and remodel it, too.” I’m too shocked by his revelation to move, but a knot wedges in my throat at the promise and sincerity in his voice. “We’ll give back to the community however we can, and open new businesses along with affordable housing. It’ll be me and you, working together to provide for communities in need, and you’ll be so goddamn happy because this is our calling. I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.”
Ending his torment, I wind my arms around his neck, and my soul aches when he tucks his face into mine, releasing an involuntary, full body shudder.
“You’re really going to do that?” I ask, fighting through unshed tears.
“I really am.”
My thighs grip his waist after he bends to pick me up, and his warmth colliding with my core drags a needy whimper from my throat.
“You keep saying you don’t have a purpose–that you can’t find your way–but those kids are your compass, and you’re the sun that rises and sets for them.” Three steps to the left, then two forward, and we’re in the bedroom. “Do you know how beautiful that is? That I get to watch you be for them what you’ve always been for me?”
He flips on the lights, searching my face for rejection, but what he finds only makes him smile.
“You feel good,” I say, failing to hide my humming pleasure that he’s a perfect fit against me. As if he were created with my body in mind.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I missed it,” I admit, releasing a thread of vulnerability like a balloon string. “The way we feel together.”
Logan’s voice is thick when he murmurs, “I’m glad for that, too.”
My bloodstream zips with excitement, raising the hair on my arms when he gradually lowers me to my feet.
I’m dizzy with his scent and the heat pulsing between our bodies, and he utterly devastates me when he says, “I don’t need your permission to love you, Penelope.”
Oh boy.
“And there’s one glaring issue with your little argument.” He brings his mouth daringly close to mine. “You claim you can’t love me, but you already do.”