“What if we can’t do it?” I bite my lip, holding my breath as I wait for him to respond. When he doesn’t, I ask another question. “What if we can’t just be friends? This?” I gesture between us. “This doesn’t work. Not in the long run. Are we just setting ourselves up for failure?”
His expression softens, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before standing up straight, dropping his hand from the car. “I reckon we’re trying our best. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, so if you want me to walk away and take my mess with me, then I’ll—”
“No!” As panic washes over me, I grab his hand and hold tight. “No, you’re right. I’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.”
He grins. “That’s a relief. It’d be a bother to have to leave my flat every time you’re in my kitchen so you don’t have to be around me.”
“You…you’ll still let me use my kitchen?”
He cocks his head. “Yeah, love. I gave you free rein, remember?”
“I know. I just wasn’t sure if you let me use it because you wanted…” I don’t think I can finish that comment and have it reflect well on either of us. It’s an awful thought, thinking Logan has only been doing nice things in the hopes of getting intimacy from me, but it’s still so hard to think he has actual interest in me. This all started as a way to get to Lola, not because he wanted me. I shrug, knowing he won’t let me leave it alone. “I’ve seen what motivates a lot of men.”
I’ve never seen Logan hurt before. Not emotionally, anyway. But his eyes fill with pain as he furrows his brow and takes another step back, and it’s absolutely something I never want to see again.
Somehow, he turns the blame to himself, making it clear that he got it wrong earlier.Idon’t deservehim. “I’m sorry I ever gave you that impression.” He looks down at the hand I’m still holding, so large compared to mine, and slips it free so he can put more space between us. “Or that any man made you think you’re only worth something physical. You’re so much more than that.”
I exhale slowly, dropping my head. “You didn’t. I promise. I just… Now I’m the one mucking everything up. This is new for me, you know?” Looking up again, I grip my hand around my arm and hold tight. “Feeling this way about someone. I’ve always been alone.”
To my utter relief, a small smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “Me too. All I’ve ever cared about was rugby and my parents. I didn’t think I needed anything else.”
“I know what you mean.” And wow, I’m suddenly exhausted. Tonight has been a lot, and I run my hands down my face as the weariness of the day settles in.
“Go get some sleep, love,” Logan says so gently that I might cry. Then he makes it worse by stepping forward and pressing the lightest kiss to my forehead, his hands on my shoulders holding me steady. And as if I needed one final nail in my coffin, he slowly wraps me up in a warm hug. As strong as he is, he’s somehow just as gentle, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so safe and secure. I definitely haven’t since I left South Carolina and its comforts behind.
“Logan,” I whisper, burying myself in his chest. “This isn’t—”
“Friends can hug,” he argues.
Yeah, they can, but friends probably don’t think about staying in each other’s arms for the rest of their lives. Not like this.
I don’t know how things are going to go now that everything is out in the open, but I’m going to trust Logan and try my best; at this point, that’s all I can do.
Chapter 17
Logan
There’ssomethingwrongwithme.
It’s Thursday afternoon, my suspension is finally over, and Mel cleared me to play as long as I take it easy on my shoulder. I’ve been taking notes during practices and have loads of thoughts to run by Moxie and the coaches to push the team to the next level, and I thought of some ways I could actually be helpful to my teammates instead of coming across as superior and mocking.
By all accounts, I should be raring to go and already at the practice facility.
Instead, I’m lying flat on my stomach on the floor with my chin on my arms, nose-to-nose with the monstrous ball of fur I’ve come to be rather fond of. Beef Wellington is sound asleep, quietly snoring after losing our latest staring contest. He’s a cheeky beast with a penchant for getting into trouble, but when he’s asleep? Cutest thing in the world.
Beef is only half the reason I’m reluctant to go to practice. The other hums to herself on the couch, her computer on herlap as she makes some updates to her website questionnaire. I’ve spent eighty percent of my time with the spitfire since last Monday, which should mean I’ve had my fill and can stomach an evening without her.
But no. There’s something wrong with me, and I would rather hang out with Savannah and her cat than get back into the rugby routine.
Rugby is my life.
Or it used to be.
It doesn’t help that Savannah has a meeting with a potential high-end client tonight and asked me to bring the team’s dinner with me to practice. In other words, I’ll have to endure my return to the Thunder without the promise of her smiles when it’s done, and it doesn’t feel worth it.
Tilting my head, I watch Savannah for a moment, all too aware of the increase in my pulse as I do. I meant it when I told her I didn’t know what was happening between us, but every day I’ve been around her has made it more and more clear that my heart no longer belongs to Australia and rugby alone.
It’s bad enough that my parents have started to wonder if I’ll be returning to Sydney when the season ends. I’ve told them next to nothing about Savannah, but they sense a change in me, and in the strangest way, they seem thrilled that I’m still here. It’s almost like Lola wasn’t the only reason they convinced me to come, though there’s no way they could have anticipated Savannah Blair.
