23. LOGAN
23
LOGAN
The presence of two campus police cars has Levi and me exchanging a curious look. “Ever seen campus police at a dorm before?”
He exhales swiftly. “Just once. When that girl from the first floor was assaulted, they showed up. I guess her roommate called them.”
I nod, pointing toward the stairwell as we enter the building. Somehow the fact that Levi and I are both tired doesn’t matter; we fly up the steps. The moment we come through the door to the stairwell, my brows shoot together.
“Back up, everyone,” the resident advisor who isn’t my asshole stepbrother shouts to us from where she stands, blocking the doorway to our wing. “We’re going to need you to stay here for a few minutes more,” Stephanie instructs. “Those of you who can’t access your rooms, we’re trying our best to get you back in as quickly as possible.”
I press my lips together, giving another look around. Is Jaxon beyond the doorway, too? My brain kicks into high gear, warning bells clanging in my head so loudly I can hardly concentrate.
What the fuck is going on? I spy Azriel, the Hawks’ first baseman, loitering near the head of the hallway. He’s eyeing whatever is happening with interest. Almost immediately, an entire truckload of awful ideas dumps into my head. The possibilities are practically endless, and my imagination has a way of creating the worst scenarios—everything from a drug bust to alcohol poisoning to date rape. Could be practically anything.
One thing is for certain, I won’t feel better until I at least put eyes on Rya, and the fact that I haven’t seen her yet has cold sweat trickling down my back. Fuck knows she’s been avoiding me, upset by my shit-faced actions, but that doesn’t mean my feelings have changed at all. My head swivels, searching for her in the crowd. As seconds pass, one more torturously than the last, I meet Levi’s eyes. “Do you see Rya?”
“No. Not Hazel, either. But don’t they both have late afternoon classes?”
I scan the area. “Yeah, but I’m seeing close to everyone else from our wing except them.” I swallow hard, jutting my chin in that direction. “Azriel is over there.”
Levi’s jaw works to the side. “That guy is so…” He shakes his head.
“He’s so what?” My brow arches.
“I dunno.” He runs his tongue over his top lip in this way he has when he’s thinking. “Just kinda odd.”
No matter. Don’t really care how strange Levi thinks he is. I don’t even disagree. I gesture to him. “Maybe he’s seen something. Or knows something.” I wouldn’t say he’s tight with Jaxon, but my stepbrother is one of the few people I’ve noticed Azriel speak to at practice. The weird fucker hadn’t said a single word the entire time we were both in the PT suite together the evening I got locked in. “I’m going over there.” Levi begins to protest, but I leave him behind, pushing my way through the veritable sea of people.
Azriel grunts when he turns and sees my eyes locked on him. He juts his chin toward me, then bobs his head toward the hallway, his gaze lands on something I can’t see until I reach his side.
My stomach flips and drops at the same time my heart jumps into my throat. It’s an unsettling feeling. Rya and Hazel stand huddled together in front of their door. I might vomit.
“Rya!” My throat is thick, my voice hoarse. Her head whips around at the sound. I start toward her, but Levi grabs me by the elbow, and Azriel catches the other. Rya’s eyes are wild as she stares at me, then back at whatever lies beyond her doorway. The campus police must be inside. Stephanie is with the girls now, but there’s no sign of Jaxon. Probably for the best, because I wouldn’t know how to deal with him if he were here.
Right now—no matter that we haven’t spoken since my drunken idiocy—with every passing second, I feel an intense need to have Rya in my arms so I can remove the haunted look from her face. She’s my girl, and the urge to shield her from whatever’s happened is stronger than anything I’ve ever known. A split second later, I attempt to wrench myself free of my bonds.
“Nope. Just stay here.” Levi gives his head a shake, and I grimace at him. Fucker is strong. A lot of people think soccer players are only capable of running back and forth on a field and kicking at a ball, but I happen to know Levi has some freaky brute strength. His grip bites into my arm as he yanks me back. And on my other side, Azriel is stoic, an unmoving sentinel. His strength is more obvious, and he’s not letting me go anywhere, either.
I scowl, throwing both of them hateful looks I know they don’t deserve. Letting the tension in my muscles ebb, I formulate my next move. When they think I’ve given in, I make a vicious swipe downward with my arms and break free of the hold they have on me, rushing forward.
At the shout from Azriel, Rya spins around, surprise registering on her face at first, then relief. Her arms extend as I reach her, and all at once, she’s in my embrace, long, toned legs wrapping around my midsection. I pivot, my eyes wandering to the open doorway where the campus police are taking photos of the wreckage inside.
I suck in a breath, unsettling astonishment rolling through me. Holding Rya more tightly, I mutter, “What the fuck happened to your room?” I let her ease back, taking a beat as I study her features. “Are you guys okay?”
Her heart jumps against my chest. And she looks into my eyes, shaking her head. “W-we don’t know, but we’re fine.”
My gaze wanders back to the destruction zone that is their room. My brow pulls together, and I exhale hard, then catch the attention of one of the officers in the room. “Are you all done with them?”
The uniformed officer with the campus police patch stitched to his shirt gruffly clears his throat. “You ladies have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”
Hazel glances at me, then nods. “We’ll just bunk with some of our friends.”
The guy rubs his hand over his jaw. “Might be for the best if you all leave us to it for now, then. ”
They don’t need to tell me twice. I turn on my heel, walking the short distance to my room. As we come back toward the gawking crowd, Levi’s eyes meet mine. I jerk my head toward our room, and he nods, understanding what I’m asking of him. There’s this growling, protective beast inside me, clawing his way out, and when he does, Levi doesn’t want to be in the vicinity. These moments alone with Rya are important, especially after everything that’s gone to shit between us. It’s obvious from her gut reaction that she needs me, and I’m done waiting to clear the air. I want so badly for our relationship to be right again, I’m willing to do anything to make her understand what’s in my head and in my heart.
Closing the door and locking it behind us, I stride swiftly into the room, stopping in the middle. She looks up at me, trust glowing in her eyes, and my forehead tips forward to touch hers. For several seconds we simply breathe together.
Finally, I raggedly whisper, “Tell me.”
She swallows hard. Takes a deep breath. And shudders. “We came back after our lyrical class, and when we got to the room, the door was partially open. Hazel knocked it open… and, well… you saw.”
“Did you go inside?”
She shakes her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “No. We got Stephanie to have a look, and she immediately got campus police involved. They said they might have to pull in the local police department because of the degree of damage.”
“Shit. Do you have any idea who’s behind this?”
She pauses, a hiccupping sob tearing from her throat, lip trembling. “I have no idea. Who would have reason to? Why?” Her final words come out on a heart-wrenching cry. Against my torso, her breaths are heavy, reckless things. The trauma of seeing her belongings like that is hitting her like a load of bricks, sending her spiraling. I don’t know what to do other than hold her, to remind her she’s safe with me.
With her chest heaving, she stares into my eyes for several beats of my fractured heart. Blood rushes in my ears in a relentless, harsh rhythm, and she catches me off guard as her mouth slams down on mine. Everything in my world skids to a stop, my mind reeling from the feel of her lips and their desperate kisses. Unable to process fast enough—or maybe it’s because I need my best friend more than I need air—but for several long glorious moments, she takes what she needs. I don’t stop her, don’t even consider it.
But then, worry creeps in, my conscience making me halt, and I wrench my mouth away on a gasp. “Whoa, slow down, Rya. You’re upset. You aren’t thinking straight. We need to ta?— ”
I don’t get a chance to finish because she practically brings me to my knees with the anguish in her eyes. She blinks slowly before murmuring fervently, “I need you, Logan. Please. Help me.” Her fingers grip my nape, drawing me back to her. Against my lips, she whispers, “I don’t want to think about who or why or how. And I’m freaking out about how to deal with that mess. The idea that someone was in our room and how much it’s going to cost to replace everything that was damaged… I want to lose myself”—she looks at me from under hooded lids—“with you .”
My mind reels at her words. I’ve wanted Rya for so long. I’ve pined for her, dreamed of what it would be like if she were mine. But we’re broken right now. And even if there were no issues standing between us, she’s my friend. Would I really sacrifice that? It’s been what’s stopped me from seeking more all along.
But recently, more and more, I’ve found myself giving in to the frustrated riot in my head and the pangs in my heart telling me I should take the chance. Hell, maybe it’s why our relationship has careened off a cliff.
Whatever we do next will change the course of our lives, and as I search her eyes and see the hope and naked insecurity there, I know I can’t deny her.
“Did you hear me, Logan?” she whispers. “I need you.” She swallows hard, blinking back a fresh rush of tears. “I need you .” Her lips tremble, green eyes panic-stricken. The distress radiating from her cuts me deep, like a knife slicing across my chest. There’s no way I won’t do whatever she asks of me. I would give her anything.
There’s definitely shit that needs to be said, but right now, it’s not important. Not when Rya’s in my arms, where I’ve wanted her since we first met. Not when she needs me. I take everything I don’t want to think about and drag it kicking and screaming to the back of my mind where I shove it into a box to be dealt with another day.
She feels so good in my arms—where she fucking belongs. This could backfire in so many ways. Maybe taking advantage of the situation—of her fragile state—makes me a dick. Or maybe I’ve waited so long for her that in my mind I deserve her. Either way, I have every intention of helping distract her from the riot in her head… in whatever way she’ll allow me to.
I nod carefully. “I will always be here for you, Tiny Dancer.”
A relieved breath stutters from between her lips, and they curve, though nervously. I cup her cheek, our mouths hovering millimeters apart. Fuck. I want to kiss her again. All the things I’ve ever hoped to have with Rya catapult through my mind, ramming into me with brutal force.
Shifting one of my hands across her ass for support, I splay my fingers, then gently squeeze, testing unfamiliar waters. When she doesn’t flinch but instead moans, it sends a shot of lust straight to my dick. Her legs clamp hard around my hips, bringing our bodies flush. There’s not so much as a breath of air between us. Our mouths meet in a frenzy, untamed passion warring with the need to slow down, drink her in, and imprint every moment of this to memory. Another soft moan falls from her lips as we sink into the kiss, and the taste of her explodes on my tongue. This woman sets my blood ablaze. Together, we are combustible.
Rya wrenches her lips from mine and stares intently into my eyes. “Logan. Do you understand what I’m asking of you? I want you to be my first.” She releases a ragged breath. “You’re my safe place… and right now, I need to go there and get lost.”
My breath heaves from me as I take in the plea in her eyes and her pink-hued cheeks, and my cock stiffens. It takes me several seconds before I can coherently put together a string of words to respond. “Are you really fucking sure?”
She quickly releases her legs from around my waist and slips slowly down my body to the floor. I groan at the feel of her sliding over my erection, my head in twisted-up chaos. Biting her lip, she rips her hoodie off over her head. For two seconds, my gaze drops. All she has underneath is some sort of ballet-pink bra top, the color very close to her own skin tone. It crisscrosses in front, cradling her small breasts. It’s totally hot, but I really, really want to tear it from her body to see what’s underneath.
My cock strains against the confines of my joggers. I want to sink deep inside her body. I want to know what it’s like to really feel her. And, fuck. She wants me too. I whip my shirt off, then stand there, ragged breaths pulling viciously from my chest.
“I’m sure.” She lays a hand on either side of my torso, then leans in and flicks my nipple with her tongue. With. Her. Goddamn. Tongue. I literally shake my head to bring myself back to her, and when I do, her lips are skimming over my chest, alternately dropping kisses and licking the dips and ridges of muscle. Her palms coast down my sides, making my abs contract.
I watch in awe as she hooks her fingers into the waistband of my joggers and boxer briefs, then tugs them both over my hips at once, leaving me bare to her. The pants fall to my feet. And so does Rya.
The sight of her there, head even with my cock, has my breath stuttering and wrenching from my chest. And then she looks up at me as she peels her bra top from her body, freeing her pert breasts. My throat bobs at the sight of her on her knees for me. Fuuuck. I almost lose it as she slides her hands up my thighs before gripping the base of my twitching, needy dick with one hand and gripping my leg with the other. She leans in, then drags her tongue up the underside of my erection. My lips part on an unsteady exhale. “Ohh, fuck yes,” I groan out, the words slipping from me.
With that encouragement, she licks a circle around the head of my cock right before taking me deep into her mouth. That sassy, sweet tongue of hers flicks and swirls, and dear sweet fucking baby Jesus, I think I might pass out.
I don’t realize it until it’s already done, but I grip her hair by that fucking bun at the back of her head. Her glittering green eyes are all hunger as she sucks me, and it has my jaw tightening. The need to be inside her is strong, and my dick dribbles pre-cum with every salacious pass in and out of her mouth.
“Ryyya.” Her name rips from my lips like an oath. “Fuck yes, baby.” My chest heaves as I gulp wildly for air. “You’re killing me.”
Through the sheen of tears in her eyes, I see something I’ve never allowed myself to acknowledge before. This girl loves me in a different way than I ever thought she would.
A chant ricochets through my skull. This is your friend. Your best friend. With those thoughts, a violent shudder runs through me as desire jolts down my spine. She’s my friend. But more than that, she’s mine .