Chapter 22
Savannah
There’s something different about Logan this morning, and that worries me.
He’s stretched out on my couch with Beef on his chest—a common occurrence—but he’s never been here on a Saturday morning.
Before now, he waited until after I was back from Lola’s.
Today, he knocked on my door a little after eight and greeted me with a kiss on the top of my head, then he went straight for my cat.
Though I wanted to ask him if something was wrong, I hopped in the shower instead. I came out to Beef and Logan cuddled up together, and now Logan is murmuring soft words and massaging Beef’s extra-toed paws.
I’ve never seen the big guy this affectionate before—either of them—and that’s what worries me.
Logan still hasn’t talked through his fear surrounding Lola and his dad.
He kept yesterday’s focus on me and getting me to Liam’s house on time—with Logan’s help, I made it to Malibu only eight minutes late and caught Liam on his way out—then went to practice like normal, since the team had a bye week.
Logan needs time to process his adoption, but he hasn’t given himself that time yet.
Maybe I need to force him to talk, but that feels dangerous. After the way things were between us yesterday, I’m so afraid to stir the pot and mess everything up.
Logan looks up and sees me at the edge of the hall watching him, and a small smile lights up his face. A nervous smile. “Hey.”
Stomach twisting, I slowly approach my two russet-haired boys and sit on the floor next to the couch so I can rub the top of Beef’s head.
“You look tired,” I tell Logan, unable to hold back my frown as I examine the dark circles under his eyes, worse than they were yesterday.
I didn’t see him much at the Thunder facility when I brought the team their food last night, having to content myself with a text he sent, telling me how delicious the food was and apologizing for not being able to help me.
“Up late,” he says. His hand shifts from Beef’s paw to his head, where my hand rests. As Beef stretches his arms out and purrs loudly, Logan intertwines our fingers. “I had a long chat with Mox after practice.”
“Oh?” I hope this means he has talked about Lola with someone, even if I’m disappointed that it wasn’t with me.
Logan nods slowly. “The guy is too perfect for his own good, but he had some solid advice.”
“About what?”
“Going for what I want most in the world.” He lifts his free hand to tuck some of my wet hair behind my ear, and then his palm presses to my cheek.
My breath hitches. His gaze is so open, like he’s letting me see into his very soul, and I can’t help but wonder if what he wants most is me. He’s always been on his way out, but yesterday he made me feel like my life is just as important to him as his own.
“Logan,” I whisper, wondering if I’m brave enough to ask him if he’ll stay.
“Can I go with you to Lola’s?”
Startled, I pull my head back and instantly regret losing the warmth of his hand.
“Really?” That should be a good thing, so why does my heart stumble in my chest at the thought of him getting closure?
My mind screams at me to tell him no. I’m not ready to let him go once he gets his answers.
“I don’t… I’m not sure that’s the best idea. ”
His eyes fall to the cat snoozing on his chest. “I know it can put your relationship with her at risk, but I’ll make sure she doesn’t hate you for bringing me to her. This is all me.”
At this point, that’s the least of my worries. Logan’s hold on his emotions is frayed and fragile, and right now I’m not convinced he can handle a conversation with Lola. What if she doesn’t give him the answers he needs? What if she breaks him?
And Lola… We’re friends now, and I haven’t forgotten the weight on her shoulders that day I met Logan outside her house.
I can’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of that stress came from Logan first reaching out.
She might not fare any better than Logan would from a confrontation.
My phone buzzes, and though I need to say something to Logan, I take the distraction. My heart squeezes when I see the message.
Liam Connolly:
Do you mind if I have my gal post about True Fuel Kitchen on my socials? I might be a little obsessed with your food and I’d like for you to stick around so I don’t starve.
I can barely believe this is happening. If a Grammy-winning musician tells his followers about me, who knows what that could lead to? More clients. Bigger orders. Scaling up and hiring some people to help. This is everything I’ve dreamed about, and it’s all because of the man in front of me.
I look at Logan, whose worried expression stills my wild imaginings. He’s the reason I’m here. Because of our deal, he stuck around. When he got injured, I followed him to practice and met Cole. Cole hired me for the team and connected me to Liam.
Logan made all of that happen. He’s keeping my cat happy, he’s letting me use his kitchen, he’s making me feel things no one has ever made me feel, so why am I so determined to prevent him from doing the one thing he came here to do? I owe him everything.
If Logan wants to talk to Lola, how can I get in his way?
Even if he hadn’t brought success to my business, I care too much about him to keep him from the person who can give him what he needs. It’ll break my heart when he leaves, but I won’t be the reason he doesn’t bring his parents—and himself—some peace.
“You can come with me,” I tell him and brush his hair from his forehead, at the same time smoothing the worry from his brow with my thumb.
He squeezes my hand, and the warmth in his expression makes it hard to breathe. “Thank you.”
I’ll be okay. As long as he’s okay.
By the time we get to the Shafers’ house an hour later, Logan and I are both brimming with nerves, and we’re unusually silent as I pull into the driveway.
I shift into park and turn off the car, but neither of us moves.
Tension hangs heavy in the air between us, thick and full of things we want to say but are too afraid to.
At least, that’s how I’m feeling. I want so badly to help Logan find his closure, but if this is to be the start of our end, I want—I need—him to know how much he’s come to mean to me.
I can’t ask him to give up his career, his parents, his whole life to stay here, but I can’t let things move forward without telling him how I feel.
But now isn’t the time to admit I might be in love with him, when he’s about to face his birth mom.
“Right,” Logan says, breaking the silence. His eyes are on the house, his body tense with unease. He looks like he’s afraid the house is going to collapse on him as soon as he gets close.
I reach across the console to put my hand on his leg, and he instantly tucks his fingers around mine. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask.
His jaw flexes. “I don’t know. Yes. I need…” He dips his chin and takes a shaky breath. “I won’t be able to move forward until I know.”
I wish I was brave enough to ask him what ‘forward’ means.
Does it mean moving on and going back to his real life, or does it mean something new?
“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” I promise him.
“For however long you need me.” Those last few words hurt, but hopefully I’ve tucked away my own wants enough and won’t distract him from what he needs to do.
I’ll talk to him after we’re done here. If I’m brave enough.
With another labored breath, he releases my hand and slips from the car, standing motionless on the cement until I’m by his side again.
He instantly takes my hand and holds tight as he studies the path ahead of us.
There’s a chance he’s too scared to move, so I give his hand a tug, and his foot follows, pulling him forward as we approach the house together.
“Wait.” He stops when we’re still in front of the garage, out of view from the door, and turns to me.
His gray eyes are a bit wild, but it almost looks like more than just fear in them.
Swallowing, he shifts closer to me and traces the features of my face with his gaze.
“Sav, if I go in there without…” He shakes his head and tries again.
“I’m not sure I can do this without knowing where we stand. You and me. I…”
He leans down until his forehead rests against mine, leaving me frozen and unable to breathe.
“I’m mad about you, Savannah. More than I can put into words.
If there’s any chance this is going to ruin things between us, tell me now and I’ll turn around.
Walk away. I’ll take you over answers any day, so if I’m about to hurt your business and lose you, then—”
This isn’t the time or the place, but my hands fly to the back of his neck anyway, holding on for dear life to steady myself.
His words repeat in my head, wild and frantic and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
“You need this, Logan,” I say, my voice airy and weak.
“No matter what happens in there, it won’t ruin things between us. I won’t let it.”
He lets out a breathless curse and grips my waist, pulling me into his body. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his tone pleading as his nose brushes mine. “Tell me you don’t want this, or I’m going to kiss you.”
I don’t say a word.
Logan’s lips are soft as they press against mine. Soft and warm and oh so perfect. His kiss is gentle and reverent, and when he pulls away, a single word sits on the tip of my tongue, too frightening to speak it into existence.
Stay.