My phone buzzes, and though I need to say something to Logan, I take the distraction. My heart squeezes when I see the message.
Liam Connolly:
Do you mind if I have my gal post about True Fuel Kitchenon my socials? I might be a little obsessed with your food and I’d like for you to stick around so I don’t starve.
I can barely believe this is happening. If a Grammy-winning musician tells his followers about me, who knows what that could lead to? More clients. Bigger orders. Scaling up and hiring some people to help. This is everything I’ve dreamed about, and it’s all because of the man in front of me.
I look at Logan, whose worried expression stills my wild imaginings. He’s the reason I’m here. Because of our deal, he stuck around. When he got injured, I followed him to practice and met Cole. Cole hired me for the team and connected me to Liam.
Loganmade all of that happen. He’s keeping my cat happy, he’s letting me use his kitchen, he’s making me feel things no one has ever made me feel, so why am I so determined to prevent him from doing the one thing he came here to do? I owe him everything.
If Logan wants to talk to Lola, how can I get in his way?
Even if he hadn’t brought success to my business, I care too much about him to keep him from the person who can give him what he needs. It’ll break my heart when he leaves, but I won’t be the reason he doesn’t bring his parents—and himself—some peace.
“You can come with me,” I tell him and brush his hair from his forehead, at the same time smoothing the worry from his brow with my thumb.
He squeezes my hand, and the warmth in his expression makes it hard to breathe. “Thank you.”
I’ll be okay. As long ashe’sokay.
By the time we get to the Shafers’ house an hour later, Logan and I are both brimming with nerves, and we’re unusually silent as I pull into the driveway. I shift into park and turn off the car, but neither of us moves. Tension hangs heavy in the air between us, thick and full of things we want to say but are too afraid to.
At least, that’s howI’mfeeling. I want so badly to help Logan find his closure, but if this is to be the start of our end, I want—I need—him to know how much he’s come to mean to me. I can’t ask him to give up his career, his parents, his whole life to stay here, but I can’t let things move forward without telling him how I feel.
But now isn’t the time to admit I might be in love with him, when he’s about to face his birth mom.
“Right,” Logan says, breaking the silence. His eyes are on the house, his body tense with unease. He looks like he’s afraid the house is going to collapse on him as soon as he gets close.
I reach across the console to put my hand on his leg, and he instantly tucks his fingers around mine. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask.
His jaw flexes. “I don’t know. Yes. I need…” He dips his chin and takes a shaky breath. “I won’t be able to move forward until I know.”
I wish I was brave enough to ask him what ‘forward’ means. Does it mean moving on and going back to his real life, or doesit mean something new? “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” I promise him. “For however long you need me.” Those last few words hurt, but hopefully I’ve tucked away my own wants enough and won’t distract him from what he needs to do.
I’ll talk to him after we’re done here. If I’m brave enough.
With another labored breath, he releases my hand and slips from the car, standing motionless on the cement until I’m by his side again. He instantly takes my hand and holds tight as he studies the path ahead of us. There’s a chance he’s too scared to move, so I give his hand a tug, and his foot follows, pulling him forward as we approach the house together.
“Wait.” He stops when we’re still in front of the garage, out of view from the door, and turns to me. His gray eyes are a bit wild, but it almost looks like more than just fear in them. Swallowing, he shifts closer to me and traces the features of my face with his gaze. “Sav, if I go in there without…” He shakes his head and tries again. “I’m not sure I can do this without knowing where we stand. You and me. I…”
He leans down until his forehead rests against mine, leaving me frozen and unable to breathe. “I’m mad about you, Savannah. More than I can put into words. If there’s any chance this is going to ruin things between us, tell me now and I’ll turn around. Walk away. I’ll take you over answers any day, so if I’m about to hurt your business and lose you, then—”
This isn’t the time or the place, but my hands fly to the back of his neck anyway, holding on for dear life to steady myself. His words repeat in my head, wild and frantic and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. “You need this, Logan,” I say,my voice airy and weak. “No matter what happens in there, it won’t ruin things between us. I won’t let it.”
He lets out a breathless curse and grips my waist, pulling me into his body. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his tone pleading as his nose brushes mine. “Tell me you don’t want this, or I’m going to kiss you.”
I don’t say a word.
Logan’s lips are soft as they press against mine. Soft and warm and oh so perfect. His kiss is gentle and reverent, and when he pulls away, a single word sits on the tip of my tongue, too frightening to speak it into existence.
Stay.
Chapter 23
Logan
I’madrongo.Atotal flaming galah who’s well and truly cooked it. What kind of grade-A idiot kisses a girl right before he’s about to be emotionally flayed and left for dead, knowing full well that tiny taste won’t be enough?
