7. Poppy
7
POPPY
“Please, for the love of all that I hold dear, leave me alone so that I can take a shower without you.”
Logan stares at me from the foot of my bed, sitting in the exact same position he’s been in since I was discharged from the hospital a week ago.
I mean, not that he’s sat there for the entire time. Just that every single time I open my eyes, there he is. And when I fall asleep, I swear he sits there too.
Wary eyes, taking in every single movement of my body and resting on my stomach, like they always do.
“No.”
The one word makes me want to throw something at him. Again. I’ve already tried changing the locks, throwing a pillow and my shoe at him, and going to stay with my parents. But when I walked in on them having sex in the kitchen, I walked right back out and came home.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
Crossing my arms over my chest and resting them on the stomach that seemed to appear out of nowhere over the last seven days, I watch as his eyes flare.
“Because not only are you pregnant with my kid, but I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for a fuckin’ month, Poppy. Even before the camping trip. You dodged me at work. I did everything short of breaking into your house in the middle of the night to talk to you because we both know when that happens, I end up with my dick out. And I didn’t want that. I didn’t think you wanted that. I want you. I wanted to talk to you. I still do.”
He is right. I have avoided him for a month. I’ve also been avoiding him for the last week, which is hard since he is in my space and refuses to leave. When I wake up, he’s there. My house smells like his soap, and all I want is to cave and ask him to hug me. I want him to hold me, to tell me that everything will be okay.
“Your doctor put you on bed rest for a reason, Poppy.” Logan gets up off the bed and moves to my side. “Please, just take your shower and then get back to it. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
When he holds up his hand, the question in his eyes, I nod.
Then I watch as Logan drops to his knees and puts his hands on my mostly flat stomach. He whispers words against my skin that I’ll never hear and caresses the skin where our son is. I still can’t even believe there’s a baby in there, let alone the fact that I’m over twenty weeks pregnant.
“Soon,” he says loud enough for me to hear.
“I need to take a shower.” I wait for him to move his hands, though, instead of walking away after the reminder that I need to go. I love him touching me even if I don’t tell him. That hasn’t changed since the day I fell in love with him, and I know that feelings will never go away. In fact, with him being here all the time, those feelings are getting stronger and it’s almost impossible to hold him at arm’s length.
He kisses my stomach and then lets me go. “What the fuck have I been doing for the last decade?”
Logan’s question catches me off guard, and I don’t answer him. Instead, I walk into the bathroom, leaving the door open because otherwise he’ll just pick the lock and walk in while I’m showering and sit on the toilet seat, watching.
How do I know? Because it’s already happened. Twice.
I already struggle with how close he is. If I have him in my bathroom, I’ll end up doing something stupid… like invite him into the shower and use him for his body. Since I know he won’t ever give me his heart.
When I turn on the hot water and get in before it is ready, I think I’m going to jump out of my skin.
“Poppy.” Logan appears in the bathroom even though I left the door open.
Doing my best to ignore him, I put my head under the water and soak my curls.
“Poppy.” He clears his throat. “I wanted to talk about what comes next. I’m going back to work tomorrow. You’re not cleared for work. Not with the stress and the damage it could cause our boy.”
I squeeze the shampoo into my hand and then work it through my curls, wondering if he is going to get to the point anytime soon because I’m about to turn into a puddle of goo just by him talking about our baby that way.
“I want you to move in with me,” he finally admits, putting his head in his hands while he perches on the toilet.
Waiting until the shampoo is washed out completely so I don’t open my mouth and accidentally eat soap, I think about how to let him down easy.
I really am planning on turning him down, until I feel our baby kick for the first time.
“Logan.” I pull the curtain back. “He kicked.”
Disregarding the fact that he is fully clothed, Logan practically climbs into the shower in his haste to put his hands on my stomach.
With anyone else, I’d feel self-conscious about the fact that I’m standing completely naked, dripping water. But not him. Never him.
“Where?”
I move his hand so that it is right where the foot had been, and then I press Logan’s hand into my stomach as gently as I can. Then we wait.
I see the hope in his eyes. The pure excitement that he can’t hide as we count the seconds passing by .
“I’ll move in with you.” The words are more of a whisper than anything else.
Logan’s eyes fly up to meet mine, and I pause at the emotion there. The hot water of the shower pelts my back, and I shuffle forward slightly, so it doesn’t hit him in the face.
“Really?”
When I nod, Logan stands up and presses his lips to mine with his hands still on my stomach. And when he ends the kiss, another foot or elbow presses into my side, right where his hand is.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, dropping back down. “You’re really in there, aren’t you?”
The baby shifts again, and then my stomach stops moving. Logan lets go, only staring at my body a few long moments before turning away.
I close the shower curtain and wet my hair again to get the conditioner I desperately need into it.
“There have to be rules. If I’m going to move in, we have to have rules, Logan. Otherwise, it won’t work.”
His eyes, even through the matte curtain, blaze with a fire I wouldn’t have imagined even a week ago.
“No other men,” he says immediately. “I can live with any rule you lay down, but there can’t be anyone else.”
“On either side,” I snap. “You don’t get to lay down a rule that you won’t follow.”
I rinse out the conditioner, missing anything else he may have said. When he holds out my towel after I shut off the water, I can’t help smiling.
“It’s only ever been you for me, Poppy.” His words have me stopping mid-step, and then I fall into his arms because the momentum I’d worked up didn’t just vanish.
“What?” I shake my head. “That’s impossible.”
Instead of arguing with me, Logan wraps the towel around my body, pulling me closer. I feel every hard inch of his body pressing against mine, and there is no way in hell that I’ll miss the erection pressed against my hip.
“I mean it.” Hoarse words caress my ear, causing a shiver I can’t fight. “When I didn’t have you, I used my hand. I’ve always been yours, Poppy. And if I can’t have you, my dick doesn’t want anyone else.”
Standing there, in his arms and nothing more than a towel, I think about the absolute craziness that has become my life.
Two weeks ago, I never would have thought that I’d be in Logan’s arms like this. Or pregnant for that matter. I was making plans to move out of the county, and I’d even lined up job interviews. But as I felt my stomach flutter and had the steady rhythm of Logan’s heartbeat against my back, I let all of the stress and fear go. At least for the moment.
“I can’t have you hovering over me, Logan. Showering in peace. And separate bedrooms.”
“Separate bedrooms, my ass, Poppy. You’re going to be in my bed every single night. Where I can feel you. Where I know you’re safe. That you’re breathing. Living. I can’t watch you die again.”
The raw pain in his voice, even when I can’t see the look in his eyes, and the way his fingers grip my hips almost painfully, tell me I won’t win.
“No sex,” I finally tell him when he releases me so that I can dry off and slip into pajamas.
Logan cocks his head to the side, leaning against the bathroom counter while I walk into the bedroom.
“With other people?” He chuckles. “I thought we already established that.”
“No.” I pull a pair of pajama pants—Logan’s pajama pants—on over my underwear and then grab one of his Marine Corps shirts off the dresser where it has sat since he took it off that morning. “I mean that we’re not going to have sex with each other.”
I expect an argument. Or him trying to change my mind. Now that my back isn’t to him, I can see the way his dick still tents his jeans. But all he does is shrug.
“If that’s what you want. But I’m not gonna promise not to touch you. You’re in bed with me, and you’re a cuddler. I will promise that I won’t initiate sex. I’ll leave that up to you, Poppy. You’re pregnant with my kid. I’d literally cut my heart out of my chest and hand it to you with a smile on my face if that’s what you wanted. Anything I have is yours. Anything in my power to give you, I’ll do it. I will give you anything you want, and if you’re telling me that you don’t want to have sex with me, okay. But I need you to agree to do whatever you have to in order to keep you and our boy safe.”
He walks into the room, making sure that I’m settled in bed before shutting off the light.
“Can you promise me that?”
The bed dips as he sits down, and then I listen to him strip down while he waits for my answer.
“Y-yes.” I swallow down the immediate desire to cancel out my demand that we not have sex .
The petulant demand that I put in place for no real reason is already biting me in my ass.
When I turn onto my side, away from Logan, I close my eyes and try to sleep. Less than a minute after I close my eyes, I feel Logan pull me into his arms, the way I’ve dreamed about almost every night for the last decade. My back is completely flush against his front, and he puts one arm under my neck. The other, he lays gently on my stomach, splayed out as wide as possible. But only after he grabs a pillow and pushes it gently against my stomach.
“In case he moves again,” Logan whispers against my ear. “I don’t want to miss another moment. Never again.”
There is a massive rock in my throat, or at least it feels that way. Coughing gently and snuggling further into Logan’s arms, I feel the exhaustion I’ve been battling since the camping trip come roaring back with a vengeance. “Do you have any rules?” I yawn loudly.
“Just the one, really. I don’t want anyone else touching you or our baby.” Logan’s hand starts to move, caressing my stomach. “But I have a request, too. ”
My limbs are feeling pleasantly relaxed.
“Give me a chance, Poppy. I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t. It destroyed a part of me I never got back. I was already coming for you, to beg forgiveness. Before we knew anything about the baby and before the incident. I know I fucked up. I knew it when I left you the first time and every single time I walked away after that. I never forgot it, either. You are the light in my life, and without you, I’ll happily live in the dark. But I’m the reason you got shot, and I couldn’t chance hurting you again.”
“You’re stupid,” I mutter into the darkness. “You don’t control the actions of others. You didn’t pull the trigger. You’re the one who saved my life that night. And again last week. If you’d have stayed, you’d have seen that. It’s only ever been you, Lo. Only you.”
“Does that mean you are willing to give me a chance?”
In the silence of my room, I hear my heart pounding loudly. Mixed with it is the steady beating of his against my back. But I can’t answer him, not until I ask the question that’s burning in my mind.
“Do you still think it’s your fault that I was shot?” I have absolutely no clue why I ask him that. Just like everything else in my life where Logan Pierce is concerned, I don’t know why I do what I do.
“Yes,” he tells me honestly. “Because it was my fault. I led us down that alley. I’m the one who should have been shot. It was my fault. There’s no arguing that.”
I knew he’d say that. Just like I know that no matter how much I want him, I can’t have him.
“Nothing’s changed, Logan. I’m pregnant, that’s all. We can live together. We can raise our baby together. But I can’t let you break my heart again. Until you realize that you need to forgive yourself, that’s all there can ever be.”
Even with his warmth surrounding me and our baby growing in my stomach, I know I’m right. Nothing has changed in our situation.
I’m still the woman he watched die. The one he can’t keep but doesn’t want to lose. There’s nothing that I can do except wait for the next time he panics and leaves me. I’ve given him every single part of me. I’ve fought and argued and given in when my body demands him and no one else.
Except… I have nothing more to give him. I ha ve to save every single piece of myself for our baby.
And there’s nothing he can say that will ever make that not true.