Chapter 34
LOGAN
Didn’t this used to be fun?
Cheap beer, bad music, and a table full of idiots I actually like. Normally, this is where I thrive. Nights like these are supposed to be a reset. Lose track of time, lose count of drinks, and just let go. But nothing feels normal tonight. Not even close.
Our table is crammed into a booth that’s too small, half my ass hanging off the seat, while Austin drones on about fuck knows what. I’m not paying attention, too busy staring at the door.
He’s not even here, but he might as well be.
Every time I glance toward the crowd by the pool table, I picture the way he leans against the wall, arms crossed, pretending he’s not watching me.
Every time a girl brushes past our booth with a smile, I picture the way his jaw ticks when someone else gets too close to me.
How he could ever think I’d want anyone but him is beyond me. When I close my eyes, all I see is Nathan curled up in my bed, his forehead tucked to my chest, his pinky wrapped around mine. Nobody else even comes close.
The bar’s loud as hell, and I’m surrounded by my friends, but the room feels empty anyway, because the only person I wanted to see tonight isn’t here.
Austin leans over and nudges my arm with his. “You’re quiet tonight,” he says, lifting his eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
I shrug and force a grin. “Just wallowing in our loss.”
He scoffs, shaking his head as he drains the rest of his drink. “I swear that game was rigged.”
“We were just off, man. It happens.” I shrug. “I’m just glad we didn’t get shut out.”
I know how much pressure is on Nathan’s shoulders, and if that were to happen, I just know he’d feel even worse than we’re all feeling right now.
It’s probably why he didn’t come out tonight.
Either that, or he just doesn’t want to be in the same room as me, since shit got awkward between us. Not that I blame him.
I’m pulled out of my head when a pretzel bounces off my cheek. I blink and look up, catching Ryan grinning at me from across the table.
“You even here tonight?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “That girl at the bar’s been staring since we walked in. Are you gonna say hi, or just keep pretending you don’t notice?”
I glance at the bar, seeing the redhead with flushed cheeks, biting her lip when I catch her eye.
Austin leans over and elbows me in my side. “Psst. You want me to play wingman?”
I shake my head, turning back around. “I’m good.”
Austin shrugs, but I can feel Maisie’s eyes flick toward me, just for a second, before she averts her gaze.
I let out a sigh and take another sip of my drink, wanting to forget what it felt like to actually have him, even just for a little while, and how empty I feel now that I don’t.
I keep telling myself that I’ll wait until I get home.
That I’ll think of something to say, maybe test the water, see if he’s even willing to look at me, let alone talk about everything that’s been hanging between us since that night in my room.
And if he does, then I’ll tell him I love him, and I’ll wait as long as he needs, and I’m not going anywhere.
But I’m not patient. Not when every single part of me is restless, waiting for him to walk through the door even though I know he won’t.
But the longer I sit here, the less sense it makes. What the hell am I waiting for? Every inch of me is burning for him, and I can’t take it any longer. I just want to tell him. I just want him to know.
I want to tell him I miss him, and that it’s never going to go away. That he can take his time, keep me a secret, keep everything slow and complicated and messy. Whatever he needs, I’ll do it.
I can’t wait anymore. I don’t care if it’s reckless or desperate or too much too soon. I don’t care if he tells me he needs more time. I just want him to know that he’s it for me. That I’d wait forever if that’s what it takes.
I down the rest of my drink, set the glass down, and push myself up from the booth.
Ryan glances up at me, his brows knitting together. “Leaving already?”
I shrug. “Nothing to celebrate here. Besides, I’m dying for a pizza.”
He lets out a laugh, and I grab my jacket, shove my arms through the sleeves, and make my way toward the door.
The cold slaps me in the face when I push the door open, my breath clouding the air as I shove my hands deep in my pockets.
Someone bumps my shoulder as a group of guys follow me out of the bar, and I lift my head, but my heart just slams to a stop.
Standing under a dim lamppost, with his jacket zipped up and his hands in his pockets, staring straight at me, is Nathan Hayes.
For a second, I honestly think I’m imagining it. Just some trick my brain’s playing because I want it too badly. But then his eyes lock on mine, my heart goes fucking crazy, and I know it’s not my imagination.
“Nathan?” I ask, shaking my head. “What are you—”
I don’t even manage to get the rest out, because he moves toward me in three strides, grabs my jacket collar, his breath fogging between us as he exhales hard, and then he kisses me.
My heart slams into my ribs, every muscle locked tight and every thought wiped clean. What the hell is happening?
But then the shock melts into heat, relief flooding my body until it almost knocks me over. Because he’s kissing me like he’s been starved for it. This is him choosing me with his whole chest, right here, out in the open where anyone can see.
When he finally pulls back, his breath stutters against my mouth, his forehead hovering an inch from mine.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he breathes, shaking his head. “Any of it. I’ve spent so long keeping everything locked down, and then you—” He stops, shakes his head, and looks away for half a second. “You’re… loud. And reckless. And impossible to ignore.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Thanks? I think? Kind of sounds like a compliment and an insult all at once.”
He chuckles, dropping his forehead to mine. His breath mixes with mine, warm in the cold air. “You make it hard to breathe sometimes. And I hated you for it at first. But then…” His throat moves when he swallows. “Then I realized I didn’t hate it at all. I needed it. I needed you.”
My chest squeezes so tight I almost lean into him just to stay upright. I grip his hips to steady myself, to steady him, because it feels like this little bubble we’re in might burst if either of us moves wrong.
“You could’ve told me that before you broke my heart,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, but my voice cracks slightly when I say it.
His eyes snap up to mine, wide with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I was a coward.” He swallows. “I thought pushing you away was easier than admitting how much I…” He sucks in a breath. “How much I love you.”
For a second, I just stand there like an idiot, staring at him, because I’ve imagined saying those words to him a hundred times, but I never once imagined him saying them to me.
“Say it again,” I whisper, because I need to hear it, need to be sure.
“I love you,” he says, my heart soaring as the words work themselves deep in my veins. “I’m sick of pretending I’m not in love with you. I want to be with you. And I’d be proud to be with you. To tell everyone we’re together.”
Holy fuck.
I almost laugh, almost cry.
Nathan Hayes loves me.
I don’t think my heart’s ever going to recover from that.
I can’t help the grin that breaks across my face. “Finally,” I manage, my voice breaking on a laugh. “Took you long enough.”
I reach for him, sliding my hand up the back of his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair and kissing him again. His hands fist in my jacket, tugging me closer, and I let him. I want to be as close as possible. I want to burn the feeling into my bones.
I slide my palm up and cup his jaw, brushing my thumb along the rough line of his cheek. He sighs against my lips and it goes straight through me.
We break apart just enough for me to breathe him in, for me to see his eyes, wide and unguarded in the yellow streetlight. I’m hyper-aware of where we are, of the noise from the bar behind us, of how easy it would be for any of the guys to walk out and see us like this.
“Anyone could see us,” I tell him, but I don’t pull back. I don’t want to.
Nathan doesn’t flinch like he usually would, though. Instead, his mouth curves into the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen and he gives a small shake of his head. “I’m not scared anymore,” he says. “Not if it means I get to have you.”
For the first time in weeks, I feel like I can breathe.
He’s still holding onto me like he might never let go, and I hope he never does.
We might not have won the game tonight, but out here, with him, I’ve never felt more like a winner.