Chapter 46
forty-six
LOGAN
My pulse pounds in my ears as I storm out of Blair’s building.
She’s trying to break up with me. She’s trying to break up with me because she’s scared. Because some crazy chick is threatening her and Reed.
Reaching my car, I pull my fist back. I barely stop myself from breaking my hand and my window. But that won’t help anyone.
“Fuck!”
An old man walking down the sidewalk whips his head around to glare at me.
“Fuck,” I say, quieter this time. I don’t know what to do.
But what can I do? Blair is stubborn. If she sets her mind to something, there’ll be no changing it.
And I can’t even blame her for her thought process.
Because she’s right. I have been very vocal about my feelings regarding relationships.
It’s never been a secret that I have no intention of getting married or having kids. And that hasn’t changed.
Has it?
My muscles are sluggish as I open the driver’s side door and climb into the car. My body almost feels too heavy to heft into the seat, but I manage it. And then I sit there, breathing heavily, as I stare at the brick wall of her apartment building.
Maybe Blair is right. Maybe I do need some time to think about things.
Starting my car, I pull out of my parking spot and let muscle memory take over as I begin the drive home.
How the fuck did we get here? One minute everything is fine between us, and the next she’s trying to end things.
Maybe it was stupid to assume we were on the same page just because she knew where I stood. I fucking hate that the guys were right. I should have spoken to her about all of this sooner. Now we’re dealing with some psychotic stalker, and I’ve lost my chance.
My mind conjures an image of Blair when she stumbled into the weight room, her beautiful brown eyes wide and puffy, her nose red and mouth tight with worry. Fuck, the way my heart lurched when I didn’t know what was wrong. I was ready to fight the world or anyone who may have hurt her.
But how do you fight an anonymous enemy that could be absolutely anyone?
I also hate that the guys were right about ibyrne4u27. I should have let the organization know the minute I got that email. If I had, maybe they would have found her already, and I could have a restraining order in place. That would make it so much easier to get one for Blair too.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I try to run through every possible scenario in my head. Scenarios where Blair doesn’t break things off with me and we continue on the way we have. She stays my girlfriend and we keep dating.
But for how long? Where does it lead? Are we still just dating when we’re seventy and our bodies start to give out? Do we keep living separate lives, only combining them when it’s convenient for me to do so?
I run scenarios where Blair refuses to reconsider breaking things off.
I imagine what it would be like if I never got to hold her again.
If we never fell asleep on the couch after a movie.
If I never got to spend a single holiday with her.
I imagine Reed graduating from high school, and I’m not there to cheer him on, proud and happy.
My chest tightens, and breathing becomes difficult. My body flushes with heat, but it’s not the pleasant kind. It’s the kind that makes my skin feel itchy and tight.
The leather steering wheel creaks under the strength of my grip.
Scenario after scenario runs through my head, showing me what it would be like to lose Blair and Reed, and I have to pull over into a grocery store parking lot because I can’t. Fucking. Breathe.
What is happening to me?
I never wanted a relationship. I never wanted to be responsible for another person, let alone two. But I never realized what I was missing out on by keeping everyone besides my teammates at arm’s reach.
Taking care of Blair and Reed makes me happy.
The way Blair’s eyes crinkle in the corners when I surprise her with a coffee in the middle of a workday and her smile lights up her face.
The little crease that formed between her eyebrows after buying her that coat.
The look of surprise that morphed into genuine pleasure when I showed up at Reed’s football game that first time.
And Reed. I always wanted a little brother or sister, but I never could have conjured one as awesome as him. He’s such a great kid. Funny, smart, protective of his older sister, but still vulnerable in a way that compels you to protect him.
I can’t lose either of them.
I love them both.
Oh, shit. I love them.
How did this happen? How the fuck did I fall in love with the woman who snuck out of my room after a night of epic sex, only to pretend she didn’t recognize me when she showed up at my job days later?
Because it’s not just that I enjoy spending time with her, or that the sex is great.
Both of those things are true, but it’s so much more than that.
I can’t imagine my life without her.
Well, I can, but it’s a miserable fucking picture.
My dad makes breakups look easy. I’ve never seen him hyperventilate when one of his wives moves out and files for divorce. He’s never so much as shed a tear.
I guess, in that regard, at least, I’m nothing like my dad.
Then reality slams into me like a runaway train.
When I let myself start a relationship with Blair, I ensured I didn’t end up like my dad.
Instead, I’m very much in danger of ending up just like my mom.
I’ve been so terrified of being left that I’ve turned into the one who always leaves.
That’s why Blair doesn’t believe me when I tell her I’m not going anywhere.
That’s why she feels like she has to end things between us now.
Because I’m so dead set against commitment, she’s worried I’ll do the same thing to Reed that my mom did to me.
And no, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt him the same way my mom leaving hurt me, but it would hurt.
And she’s right, he’s already lost so much.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, choking on the words and a sob that’s trying to claw its way up my throat. “I’m just like her.”
One foot out the door. Unwilling to be hurt.
Unwilling to risk getting my heart broken, and therefore unwilling to even hope that someone could love me the way neither of my parents ever seemed capable of doing. Unwilling to let myself love anyone else completely.
Well, fuck that, and fuck them. They’ve taken enough from me. I won’t let them take any more.
It’s time to take a risk. If she breaks my heart, she breaks my heart. Either way, I’ll fight for hers.
As soon as I get my breathing under control, I check the roads and make a U-turn. I know she asked for time to think, but I’ve been gone for ten minutes, and that’ll have to be enough.
I know what I want.
I want her.
I want to be a family with her and Reed, if they’ll have me.
I’m in love with Blair Sherman, and I’ll be damned if I waste another ten minutes of my life where she doesn’t know.
The drive back to her apartment is agonizing. Every mile feels like ten. I need to get back to her and fix this.
Finally, I’m banging on her door, and when she opens, eyes wide and puffy, I push my way inside. She can be pissed at me, if she wants. I’ll ask for forgiveness later.
“Logan? What are you doing back here?”
Her voice is scratchy and raw, and I’m surer than ever that this isn’t really what she wants. It’s what she thinks she needs to do to protect herself.
We’re the same in that way.
Closing the door, I crowd her until her back hits it, caging her in with my arms. “No.”
Her brow furrows. “No? No what?”
“No, I don’t need time to think. No, I won’t let you break up with me. Not unless it’s what you truly want. But I don’t believe it is. No.”
Blair’s jaw clenches and she looks away.
No to that too.
I gently grip her chin and force her to look at me. “I’ve been a huge fucking idiot. I’ve spent most of my life being rejected by women. First by my mom, when she left and never looked back. Then by each stepmom that followed.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I prepare myself to admit to wounds I’ve never revealed to anyone else.
“They always worked hard to make me love them.
I guess they figured it would be easier to snare my dad if they proved they could be the mom they thought I needed.
To be fair, I think Stepmom Number One did care about me.
She at least tried to keep in touch. Sent me birthday cards and Christmas presents for the first few years.
Every once in a while, Dad would let her take me out for ice cream.
But then she got remarried and moved halfway across the country, and even the cards stopped.
“I don’t blame her. She’d only been married to my dad for two years.
She didn’t owe me anything, but she showed up more than my own mother.
The stepmoms after her all acted like they loved me, but none of them stuck around after their divorces.
By the time I was twelve, most of them didn’t even bother trying to get in good with me.
“Eventually, I learned that women leave. Even the ones that say they love you and always will. It was a lesson I took to heart. Women always walk away, so I’d make sure I walked away first.”
My chest heaves, and I pause to suck in a deep breath. Blair is silent and still, her face tilted up, watching me, those stunning umber eyes of hers glassy and wide. This time, the tears aren’t because of me. They’re for me. Steeling myself, I continue.
“It’s why I made my rules. No relationships, no attachments, no overnights.
When I hooked up with a woman, I’d set an alarm on my phone so I never fell asleep.
If I wasn’t there when they woke up, they couldn’t get the wrong idea.
I was never going to be their meal ticket the way my dad was for his wives.
“And that worked for me for years. Until you.”
“Logan…” She looks pained, bringing a hand to rest on my chest, right over my racing heart. But I’m not done.
“I tried telling myself the reason I was upset when you left that night was because you were the first woman to walk out on me since moving out of my dad’s house.
But if I’d been honest with myself, I would have admitted that what really got to me wasn’t that you left before I could.
It’s that you were different. You didn’t know who I was, weren’t impressed with my career because you didn’t even want to know what it was, and you weren’t falling all over yourself to be whatever you thought I wanted.
“You have no fucking clue how refreshing that was. I grew up watching these women mold themselves into what they believed my dad wanted, and it usually worked. I doubt my dad has any idea who most of his wives actually were. He was content as long as they were skinny and pretty with great tits.”
I smile at her because her nose is scrunched and her lips are pursed. “Not that you don’t have great tits, because you totally do.”
“You’re an idiot,” she mutters, pushing against my chest. But not hard enough to push me away.
My smile drops. “I am. You’re right. Because when you showed up that day in the weight room, looking so fucking beautiful and bright-eyed, I convinced myself I’d been wrong about you. That you were exactly the kind of woman who had suckered my dad, and you were determined to do it to me.”
“I understand, now,” Blair whispers. She strokes her hand over my chest, and I let myself hope that when I’m done with my plea, she’ll believe me. That she’ll let go of this whole breakup plan and take a chance on me.
I cup her cheek. “I’m sorry. I was such an asshole to you. You never deserved that. But I was fucking terrified because I knew how easy it would be to feel things for you I’d promised myself I never would. Yeah, my ego was involved, and that’s part of why I was a prick, but that’s only part of it.
“And it turns out, I was right. It took no time at all to fall for you. To change my rules and my plans.”
I suck in a deep breath. This is it. The moment that will make or break me. There’s no going back after this, and I’m fucking quaking.
“And here I am, less than six months later, completely, stupidly, hopelessly in love with you.”
If I thought Blair was wide-eyed before my confession, it had nothing on her expression, now.
The hand pressed to my chest grabs hold of my workout shirt and bunches the fabric in her fist, her other hand moving to do the same.
She stares at me like she’s afraid I’m about to shout Gotcha!
and run away, so she needs to hold on for dear life.
Cupping her face, I smile softly as her mouth opens and closes a few times, but the only sound that escapes her lips is the puff of unrealized words being exhaled.
“I fucking love you, Blair Sherman. So no. No, I’m not letting you break up with me. No, I won’t let some crazy, obsessed fan threaten you, your brother, or your job. No, I won’t give you the night to think about things when you don’t have all the information.”
Tears pool in Blair’s eyes before spilling over and down her cheeks. I wipe them away with my thumbs before leaning in and kissing each salty pathway they’ve made on her face.
“You love me?”
“I do.” I nod. “And it scares the shit out of me. But as I was driving away from you, I realized there was something that scared me even more.”
“What?” she whispers, her body leaning forward.
“The thought of living the rest of my life without you. Of never telling you how I feel. Losing you and Reed.” I exhale a shuddering breath. “Please don’t let me lose you.”
Another tear creates a glittering line down her face, but this one’s path is different because her lips curve, her cheekbones becoming more pronounced, and she smiles. It’s hesitant for only a moment before it overtakes her entire face, nearly blinding me.
“You won’t lose us. I love you too.”
I press my forehead to hers, searching her face for any signs of deception but finding none. “You do?”
“Yes.” She tilts her head, pressing up on her toes, and slants her lips over mine. I open for her, and our breaths mingle when she says, “How could I not? You’re very lovable, Logan Byrne.”
The brittle shell around my heart cracks down the middle, and for the first time since I was a devastated little boy of six, it expands to its full capacity and really, truly beats.
“Oh, babe,” Blair murmurs. Her hands go to my face, and then she’s the one wiping tears from my cheeks. Wrapping her arms around me, she squeezes me tight. “You’re okay. Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”
I haven’t cried so hard since my mom left. But this time? They’re tears of joy.