Chapter 29 #2
“Bet it was the choking thing, huh? Daddy Vader can get it.”
“You know what I wanna know?” I blurt, swiftly changing the subject. “Why did Mom and Dad do it? Why'd they give you up?”
All humor drops from his face, replaced with hard resentment. He blows out a slow breath and stares down at the joint in his hands. “Guess you'd have to ask them.”
My brows slam down. “You never did?”
“Nope.” Propping up a knee, he pinches the end of the joint before tucking it behind his ear. “Don't really give a shit. I can garner a guess, though.”
“Yeah? And what's that?”
“Do the math, little bro,” he says, gesturing at me. “They're like, what, in their forties? I'm twenty-nine. Think about it.”
I do the calculations in my head, stomach twisting when the realization hits. “Shit.”
“Yep. Teen pregnancy out of wedlock goes against church covenant, doesn’t it?”
Anger slices through me, and I grab the bottle for an aggressive swig. “Fucking lying, hypocritical assholes.”
Dev tilts his head with a curious look as he waits for me to explain.
“When they found out Salem and I were living together unmarried, they forced me to propose,” I growl. “Obviously, she said no and broke it off.”
Memories from that weekend at my parents’ cabin two years ago trickle through my brain: how I'd lied my ass off to Tay and Huck during a game of Never Have I Ever because I was scared.
How adorable Salem looked all bundled up when I took her out into the snowstorm on Valentine's Day to pop the question.
How devastated I was after. It all rolls over me like a tidal wave.
Snow falls in thick, slow flakes, those quiet ones that wrap the world in cotton and muffle everything. The windshield wipers squeak in time with my heartbeat, which, at this point, might be audible over the engine.
Salem has her boots on the dashboard, blazing red hair falling over the puffy coat hugging her frame. She rolls her head to the side and tosses me a lazy grin. “If we get caught in the storm and you’re forced to eat me, which part would you eat first?”
I throw her a panicked look. “That’s morbid. And it won't happen.”
“Humor me,” she hums, sipping on a thermos of hot chocolate.
With a sigh, I keep my eyes on the road in case we slide into a ravine. “I don't know. Thigh, I guess.”
She snorts. “My thigh?”
“Yeah, lots of meat. Could probably feed me for a few days.”
“I was hoping you'd say my pussy.”
My ears grow hot as my cock twitches in my snowsuit. “I don't think that has much nutritional value.”
She gasps, punching my arm in fake outrage. “It has tons of nutritional value! Otherwise, you wouldn't eat me out so much.”
“Salem,” I whine, reaching down to adjust myself. “I can't drive straight if I'm horny.”
Snickering, she drops the subject and flops against the seat. “Where are you taking me that Huck and Taylor couldn't come with, anyway?”
“You'll see soon.”
Her delicate brow furrows slightly, like she can already sense something in the air—something big.
After another few minutes of winding uphill, I spot the hidden turnout I scouted weeks ago: A wide viewing area with a crumbling guardrail overlooking the entire mountain. Pulling in, I kill the engine, and silence blankets us immediately.
Salem stares out the window with a soft smile. “Okay… This is actually really beautiful.”
My heart hammers against my ribcage. “Come on. You gotta see it from out there.”
She grabs her camera before we step out, snow crunching under each footfall. Wind bites at our faces, turning Salem’s cheeks pink. She lifts the camera to snap photos of the evergreens covered in layers of white.
I'm so nervous that I could puke. She's told me a hundred times that marriage isn't in the stars for her, but we're good together.
It may not be how I wanted this to go, and yeah, Dad is forcing my hand, but I'll take care of her.
She's become my best friend, the only person I want to spend all my time with.
The next step should be marriage, right?
Taking a deep breath, I pull the box from my pocket and drop to one knee. Salem’s asking me a question I can’t hear, but when she looks back to find me on the ground, the words die on her lips.
“Logan—”
“I know this is kind of unexpected,” I rush out, “and I know we've talked about this before, but…
Salem, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, inside and out.
You're strong and wild, basically everything I'm not, but I think we complete each other.
If you say yes to being my wife, I'll spend our whole lives continuing to show you how much you mean to me.”
I open the box and show her the ring I spent the last month picking out. Her hands cover her mouth, eyes dark and shiny, but she doesn’t cry.
She doesn’t smile, either.
The wind howls around us, sending shivers down my spine. The silence stretches on.
“Well, say something,” I plead, snowflakes thick on my lashes.
Salem takes a shaky breath before swallowing hard… and then takes a step back. “I can’t.”
The world tilts beneath me as I lower the ring to grab onto the guardrail for support.
“I love you, Logan, I do. But… not enough for this. Not enough to tie myself to you like that. I'm sorry.”
She broke up with me on the drive back to the cabin. I hadn't even fought it because, honestly, what was the point? She'd told me how she felt.
Yet, I still held onto the hope that maybe we could slip back into our old relationship someday because I was scared of being alone, of being left to my own devices with no excuse to keep the truth at bay.
But it found me anyway.
“Oh, boo hoo,” Devon mocks, snapping me out of my thoughts with a giant swig of whiskey. “Your parents lied to you and your girlfriend left you. Cry me a fucking river.”
“Fuck you, man.”
He sneers cruelly. “You did. Remember? I had you screaming my name while you came all over yourself like a slut.”
I launch off the floor and take his shirt in my fists before slamming him back against the bunk. “So what's your excuse, huh? What made you such a dickweed, Dev? Did Grandma and Grandpa not hug you enough?”
“Wouldn't you like to know?” he mutters, forcing me to straddle his lap.
“Yeah, actually, I would. What the fuck did they do to you? Why were you never around growing up?”
One large hand curls around my throat while the other palms my thigh. “You know what I wanna know instead? Are you still attracted to me, little bro?”
I freeze, the stiff ridge of his cock grinding into my ass. Our faces are inches apart, so close that I can see every stitch on his cheek. “I hate when you call me that.”
Devon's low laugh raises goosebumps on my skin. “Fine. I'll stop. But only if you answer the question.”
Swallowing hard, I study his bruised eyes, irises as dark as the bottle we've been sharing. Then the cut of his stubbled jaw, the curve of his full mouth. My hips give an involuntary roll when I press my hardening length against his abdomen. “I don't know.”
“Yeah, you do,” he rasps, moving with me as he closes the distance between us. “You're just too chickenshit to admit it.”
And then he kisses me softly, stealing my breath.
His lips brush mine, unhurried, like he’s giving me a chance to back out. I don't take it, though fuck, I should.
Instead, I lick into his mouth as my fingers find their way into his hair. He pulls me closer, and I grind on his cock, both of us desperately seeking friction.
Devon breaks away first for some air. “You’re shaking.”
“Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his.
“Then stop thinking.” He reaches down to squeeze the bulge in my crotch. “Just feel.”
That’s the problem.
I do feel. Too much.
For him.
For her.
For everything I’ve broken trying to figure out who the hell I am.
But I don’t stop. My hands stay in his hair because right now, this feels like the closest thing to clarity I’ve ever gotten.
And that terrifies me.
The air grows hot as we continue to devour one another.
Before I know it, our shirts end up on the floor.
Chest to chest, tongue to tongue, his frenzy matches mine with every low groan and whimper.
He tugs at my belt, undoing the buckle before plunging his hand beneath the waistband of my boxers, and the moment he wraps his hand around my aching cock—
The RV door bangs open. Light floods the room, and feet hammer up the steps.
We both freeze. Devon’s wide eyes meet mine before drifting over my shoulder. Judging by the smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth, I don't even have to look to know who's behind us.
I feel her like an electric current before lightning strikes.
Pulling back slowly, my heart leaps into my throat, and I risk a glance over my shoulder.
Salem stands in the doorway, her face unreadable, red strands haloed by the light behind her. She flicks her gaze between us without a word. Just stares.
And in that silence, I feel everything I’ve spent years trying to deny crashing down like a wave of shattered glass.
I launch off Devon like I've been burned, jumping to my feet. “Salem, it's… it's not what you—”
“Shut up, Logan,” she sighs, closing the door slowly. “Don't insult my intelligence. Dev literally had his hands in the cookie jar.”
My mouth opens and shuts, no response coming to mind as she bends down to swipe the bottle from the floor. Bringing it to her mouth, she takes a giant swig, and I glance at Devon to find his eyes on my wife.
She drops to the floor beside him, cross-legged, before finally meeting my eyes. “Well? Don't stop on my account. Please continue.”