Chapter 30
THIRTY
Elizabeth
My father sent me a message to come to the hospital. I rushed here like the world was ending, scared of what might have happened to him. I tried asking if he’d been in an accident.
“Just get here as soon as possible,” he barked at me, no other explanation.
So, here I am now, running across the lobby and toward the receptionist’s desk who watches my approach with curiosity.
“I’m here to see my father,” I say as soon as I am close enough. “He called me that he’s in here. His name is…”
“Elizabeth!”
I turn on my heels at hearing my name, surprised to come face to face with Leyla, my father’s PR manager for the Sliders.
“You got here very fast,” she smirks. “Just like he said you would.”
I press a hand to my chest. “Is he okay?”
“Yes.” She frowns at me. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Well, this is a hospital.” I don’t even know why I have to point out the obvious. “He said to be here as soon as possible. I thought something happened to him.”
Leyla shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling. “He is so damn dramatic sometimes, I can’t deal.”
Nothing makes sense right now, and I am out of breath. Between the panic and the running from where the Uber dropped me off, you could knock me down with a feather.
“Come with me.”
Leyla grabs me gently by the arm and walks me with me until we stop in front of some elevators. I give her a side eye, wanting to say something, but then changing my mind. Once again, I remind myself that I don’t know her well enough to be a smartass.
The doors to a car finally open, and we step inside together. I watch as she presses her manicured finger onto number eleven, and the doors close.
“It’s like we’re in a spy movie,” I comment. Leyla, to her credit, chuckles softly. “Why all the secrecy?”
She shrugs at me. “He likes the dramatic effect. Always has.”
The way she talks about my father speaks volumes.
It’s as if she knows him really well, more on a personal level rather than professional.
I’ve been suspecting that for a few days now.
My father made little comments here and there about Leyla.
There’s a definite undercurrent there, but I’ve been too busy with my own relationship to ask questions about his.
If there even is one in his case. I’d bet money that there is, though.
“But he is not in the hospital because he’s hurt?”
She smiles again. “No.”
I frown and look ahead, unsure of what other questions to ask.
“Asking me to rush to the hospital just for him to talk to me is very odd.”
“It sure is,” Leyla agrees. “But when he wants something resolved, he wants to do it that very moment. Patience is not his forte.”
I raise an eyebrow in surprise. However, she is correct. My father, when impatient, does not like to wait. That means that whatever he’s got to tell me could not wait a second longer. Still weird he asked me to meet him here of all places.
The elevator stops on the eleventh floor without any incidents. We both walk out, and since I have no idea where I am supposed to go, I have no choice but to follow Leyla down the hallway she takes us on. She makes a sharp right, then stops in front of a door.
“Conference room for friends and family,” I read the words on the door out loud. “Whose friends or family?” I ask Leyla.
She raises her hand and knocks but doesn’t wait for permission to go in. Instead, she opens the door and steps to the side for me to follow suit.
“Your friends and family in this case,” she replies.
My eyes widen in surprise when I notice the two people sitting at the table in the middle of the room. My father and Logan are across from each other, but I don’t sense any tension in the air, which would be expected given the circumstances.
“Logan,” I whisper. I haven’t seen him in almost a week, and I am dying to rush to him. I am tired of chasing after him, though.
After talking to my father about this the other day, I realized that I’ve been putting all the work in since he was banished from New York. I’m tired. This doesn’t mean that I am ready to give up on him, only that I need him to make more of an effort.
He was ready to support you reach your dreams of being an artist, a small voice speaks inside my head. And he’s been telling you how much he loves you.
All that is true, but he was also ready to let me go at the first sign of trouble. What kind of a foundation is that?
“Lizzie…” Logan stands up from the table. “I’m so glad that you came.”
I cross my arms over my chest in a gesture of defiance. His eyes round in surprise, and, somewhere in the distance, I hear Leyla chuckle.
“Come on,” she says to my father. “We need to give them some space.”
“They had plenty of space on their own,” he huffs.
They whisper to each other back and forth. In the end, it sounds like Leyla is declared the winner.
“I am going to be right outside that door.” He points toward the door in question before turning a threatening finger toward Logan. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Logan stands up straighter. “No, sir.”
When the door finally closes, leaving us alone in the room, the tension in my shoulders intensifies a little. I stare at Logan, and he stares back. There’s so much sadness and pain in his eyes, it breaks my heart. I am not sure what to say…
“I missed you so fucking much.”
I barely have time to process his words when he pulls me into his arms.
“Please forgive me for being such a damn idiot,” he mumbles into my hair. “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, but I do know that I love you so much.”
He squeezes me tighter, making my arms go around his waist of their own volition. We rock side to side as we hug like it’s supposed to wash away all the problems we’ve been having.
“I missed you, too,” I whisper into his chest.
That seems to be all he needs to hear. Leaning back just enough to be able to see my face, he drops his lips against mine, letting out a deep groan when I open my mouth to him. The way his tongue wraps around mine gets my heart pumping, making me wish we were home, back in Texas.
I realize with a start that my home is no longer in New York. It hasn’t been in a few months, but given my mental state where I kept on oscillating between wanting to stay and thinking that was not the right place for me after all, this is very eye opening.
“Logan…” My voice is soft when I manage to speak. “I missed you so much. Please tell me I didn’t come here for you to spew some more crazy things,” I beg. “My father would not allow it,” I warn him.
He smiles and shakes his head before pressing another hard kiss to my lips.
“He and I have been talking, and we came to an agreement…”
My eyes widen in surprise. I sensed that they weren’t arguing when I walked in here, but I was not expecting the light tone in Logan’s voice when talking about my father.
I let go of his waist and take a step back, knowing that we need to talk. I fidget in place from both being nervous but also hopeful. I want this more than anything.
“We should sit.” He pulls out a chair at the table, then waits for me to take it. He then sits down in the one next to me, leaving no space in between us.
Suddenly, I realize something. “Is this the hospital where Sebastian is?”
The sadness on his face at hearing his friend’s name is unmistakable.
“I am so sorry!” I cover my mouth with both hands. “My dad told me… He said it’s not looking good.”
Logan shakes his head. “It’s really bad, Lizzie. They may actually take him off life support soon.” He chokes on his words. “That could’ve been me…”
That is something I haven’t considered, but now that he said the words, I realize that it’s true.
“They invited me to this party,” Logan reminds me. “I… I hate that I am grateful for declining the invitation.”
The tears I was trying to hold back are now running freely. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted if I got a call to say that Logan was on life support and might not come off it, ever, unless it is to die.
“I’ve been sitting in that room, staring at him for days now. It made me realize how fucking short life is, Lizzie.” Logan takes my hand is his. “And as weird as it may sound, I think your father got to the same conclusion.”
“He should’ve already known that,” I chuckle nervously. “My mother died at a young age after all.”
Logan bobs his head up and down as he acknowledges what I said.
“He came here to fight.” He smirks at me. “And I’m pretty sure he could’ve taken me if it was an actual physical altercation.”
I chuckle, too. My father is a couple of inches taller than Logan and still very fit for his age. He’s always been athletic, and getting older has not slowed him down a bit.
“He demanded I told him why I broke up with you…”
The amusement dies from both of our faces. I already knew that I wouldn’t accept this breakup, but I had decided that Logan needed to fight for me this time around.
“I told him that I didn’t think I was good enough for you… He agreed…”
He said it so casually, I almost missed it. And when I do, we both burst into laughter.
“He explained to me in no certain terms that I was an idiot, which is also what Leyla told me, too. That you followed me to Texas… You gave up everything for me… And I made you feel like it’d been all for nothing.”
I wipe at my eyes, unable to hold back the wave of emotion hitting me from every which way.
“He also about punched me in the face at the mention of me quitting the Aces,” Logan continues. His face is a mask of awe and worry.
I rush to defend my father. “He called…”
“He told me that he really believes in me, and that he thinks I have the potential to become a first line goalie.”
I become quiet and just listen. For the first time since I’ve known him, he wants to share all his deeper thoughts with me.
“He sent me away to give me better opportunities. Getting me away from you was a bonus.”
We both chuckle at that.
“I know,” I whisper when he pauses for too long. “He told me the same when I went to his house. I didn’t know then,” I assure him.