She tilts her head, eyebrows jumping upward. “What?”
“For taking out my anger on you.”
“Uh, you didn’t do that, so—”
“I did. You weren’t there, but I did.” I reckon flipping over a table in the training room counts well enough. I’ve already apologized to Mel—and Moxie, for that matter—but my anger had nothing to do with them, and they knew it.
Honestly, it wasn’t the intervention and ultimatum that knocked me sideways and forced me to get my head on straight. It was the fact that Moxie and Mel remained calm during my outburst and let me run out of steam on my own. Then Moxie asked what was really behind the anger, and his gentle kindness hit me hard.
He’s the real reason I’m at Savannah’s door right now.
Not rugby, not Lola, not my parents. Certainly not the cat. I’m here because I need to fix things.
My eyes jump to Savannah’s fist. “Could you, er, put the knife down?”
“What?” she says for the third time, then looks down at the blade in her hand and opens her mouth in surprise. “Oh! Right. Um. Do you want to come in?”
Of course I do, but I don’t deserve a place in her home after the way I’ve been acting. Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jumper, I glance inside her flat and grimace. “Are you sure?”
If she’s surprised by my hesitation, it doesn’t show on her face as she nods and steps back. “Of course. You’re always welcome here, Logan.”
It’s taken me three days to work up the courage to come here, and this is why. She’s sogood. She may be full of sass and cheeky comments, but I doubt this woman knows how to be selfish. A bloke like me can’t hope to compare when my best qualities don’t come close to matching her worst.
I can’t imagine this conversation is going to go well, but I owe her more than just “I’m sorry.” Stepping inside, I take in the massive amounts of food on her countertop. She’s in the middle of prepping meals for someone, which makes me feel slightly better about the knife situation. She didn’t grab it just for me, though I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
Savannah sets the knife on a cutting board full of raw chicken and peels off her gloves, looking wildly uncomfortable as she returns her gaze to me. “So.”
Humility has never come easy for me, more apparent than ever as I stand in her entryway with no idea how to say what I need to say. Instead of talking, I check the living room for a ball of brown fur. For an excuse to delay subjecting myself to more vulnerability. “Where’s Beef?”
A high-pitched series of chirps answers my question from down the hall, followed by a heavy thump and the sounds of scurrying. Beef Wellington arrives at top speed and practically collides with my shins as he starts up his usual game of headbutting me to death while rumbling like a diesel engine.
Savannah groans as she watches her cat weave between my legs and stretch up along my thigh, looking for head scratches. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I frown. “What?”
“Moxie was right.”
“He doesn’t look depressed to me.”
“Exactly.” Sighing, she runs her hand over her hair to smooth some flyaways. “He’s only happy when you’re around.”
Hating the misery on Savannah’s face, I crouch down to pet the beast and ask him, “Mate, why are you hung up on me when you’ve got the spitfire around every day? She’s heaps better company than I am.”
He rumbles in response and sticks the tip of his tail in my face.
“Thanks,” I grumble and blow air through my nose to stop the tickle.
“How’s your shoulder?” Savannah asks, pulling my attention back to her.
My shoulder is worse than it was when I last saw her thanks to my stupidity, though I’m not keen to tell her that. “Healing.”
Glancing at the half-prepared food behind her, she moves back around the counter and slips on a new pair of gloves to resume cutting chicken. “I’m sorry for overstepping on Monday. I was worried that you were going to hurt yourself more.” A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, like she can’t hold it back. “And I was right.”
Based on how badly I want to see a full smile on her lips regardless of what prompts it, I reckon this woman is going to be the death of me. Hoisting Beef under my uninjured arm, Istand up straight and continue petting the cat as I approach the counter. “No need to be smug.”
“Says the biggest ego I know.”
“I’ve earned my ego.”
