Almost.
With extreme challenge, I push against his chest.
“Don’t retreat,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Gotta,” I whisper back.
Reluctantly, he nods. “Okay. Okay.” He kisses my cheek, then my forehead, and he braces his hands on the cupboards behind me and stares me down. “I think I understand.”
“It just doesn’t work.”
“Hockey player. Coach’s daughter. Won’t take no for an answer, spits champagne into his fiancée’s mouth, sometimes pretends to be dumb. Those are your stated reasons.”
“Some of those are made up,” I admit.
“I know.” He leans in again, swaying against me. “Fucking hell, Francesca, I want to kiss you again.”
I want that, too. I want it way too much to be sensible. “That’s probably reason number six. There’s no way this lasts. It’s just a?—”
“This would last forever,” he rasps, interrupting me. “If you give me a chance, I’ll show you that.”
“Oh, come on.” I laugh.
He doesn’t. “Look, I’m trying to stick to a plan here. Show up, earn your trust, give you a scorching kiss goodnight, and get an invite to come back tomorrow. But you’re making that hard, because I just want to…” He takes me by the shoulders, growls, and kisses me again, harder this time. His chest heaves. “It’s a good thing your roommates are here, or I’d be carrying you to the nearest bed like a caveman.”
I’m not going to tell him that the nearest bedismy bed, and right now, I’d be very agreeable to the terrible idea of him tossing me onto it.
“I want to say something, and it might make you mad, but I don’t mind when you’re mad.” He shifts his hands so they’re beside my hips, so his face is right in front of mine.
His gaze is so steady, so sure, it’s impossible to look away. “Did you think I was going to throw you away when I sobered up?”
I nod, hot tears springing to my eyes, surprising me and Logan both. I hate myself for that reaction.
He kisses the tears away as they spill free, his lips turning wet against my cheeks.
“Never,” he says, his voice hardening. “I promise you with everything I am that I would never hurt you like that. But I think I understand why you would assume that. I’m not your father, and I’m not that jackass kid who broke your heart, either. I’m going to prove that to you.”
“But it’s not up to you.“ My voice cracks. I take a breath and start again. “I’ve seen this before, Logan. I know how it goes.The player always matters more than the girl. Always. And when things go wrong—and they will go wrong—I’ll be the one who gets blamed for distracting you, for ruining your focus, for?—”
“Your father is an asshole who blamed you for some twenty-year-old’s failed career when you were a child. I will not let you be blamed for my play. Ever. On any level.”
He kisses my mouth next, and his lips taste like my tears. And then he wraps me in a hug so steely, I can’t help but believe he’s strong enough to carry through on that promise.
When we’re both breathless, he presses his forehead against mine and holds my gaze again. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will find you every time you slip away. But wooing you is going to be easier if you don’t hide from me.”
CHAPTER 19
LOGAN
I can feel the shift in her stubborn little body as she gives in, giving herself over to hope she doesn’t want to feel. And I get it. She doesn’t know me enough yet to understand that I will lay myself down on hot coals to protect that hope for her. That I will not betray her, and I will slay anyone who would even think about asking me to do that.
But first things first… She’s had a long day, and there’s pasta to make.
As if on cue, there’s a knock at the kitchen door.
“Have you murdered your guest yet?” Sloane calls out.
Frankie’s eyes go wide, and she pushes at my chest. I step back just enough to let her hop down from the counter, but I keep one hand on her hip, not quite ready to lose contact.
