“Is he at the shop now?”
“Yeah, he was still there when I left about half an hour ago.”
“I’m gonna go see him.”
“You need backup?” he offers.
“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Tyler.”
“No problem. Good luck, Amy. I hope you can get through to him, ‘cause lately, it’s like trying to pull blood from a fucking stone.”
“Thanks,” I say, just before we say our goodbyes and I watch him head back in the opposite direction.
Good luck...
From the sounds of it, I’m going to need it.
Luckily, the drive over to the auto shop is short, but the whole way here, my heart has been pounding hard in my chest, wondering which way this is going to go.
I make my way through the garage, my eyes instantly finding the sleek new paint job on the GTO and my breath hitches. It’s perfect. The dark metallic green paint shimmers in the light, the chrome bumper that Logan and I picked up a couple of weeks ago is now fitted and looks brand new. It looks like a completely new car compared to the one I saw just last week. I have to stop from pinching myself to make sure that this is real.
My dad would be so proud.
I stand admiring the car for a few moments before my mind kicks back into action and I remember why I came here in the first place. I glance up to Logan’s office door and it’s wide open, faint music filtering through from the radio in his office.
Logan doesn’t hear me approach, his head is bent forward over his desk as he focuses closely on the paperwork in front of him. His head is resting in his hands and his brows are furrowed, deep in thought.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding all week,” I say, leaning up against the door frame of Logan’s office with my arms folded.
His eyes shoot up to me, his face painted with both surprise and fear. His eyes dart past me over my shoulder as if he’s looking for someone. “Ames, you can’t be here.”
“Don’t tell me where I should and shouldn’t be, Logan. You’ve been avoiding me all week and I wanna know why. Oh, and thanks for telling me about the car, by the way.”
He jumps out of his chair and rounds the desk, and when he nears me, he grips the tops of both my arms, tugging me towards him. “Amy, baby, please. You can’t be here,” he repeats firmer, his words coming out almost like a plea.
“Why, Logan? Why shouldn’t I be here?” I wait for his answer but I don’t get one. “Have I done something? Don’t you want me anymore?” I can feel the sharp sting in the backs of my eyes as I ask the question I dread the answer to.
“Fuck, no, that’s not it.” He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Babygirl, I want you, I’ve always wanted you, but right now, there’s things going on with me... things I can’t allow you to get involved in.”
“What things, Logan? Not telling me is only making me want to know all the more, so just tell me what’s going on. Maybe, I can help.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Ames. This is my shit to deal with.”
I take a step closer to him, looking deep into those beautiful eyes that I love so much. “Logan. You and I... we’re a team. Your problems aremyproblems and we share the burden, together. That’s how relationships work. Let me help you.” I lower my voice as I speak, brushing a hand across his cheek and for a split second his body relaxes against my touch, as if all of his problems melted away the second my skin met his.
“I wish it was that easy.” He sounds defeated. Hopeless.
“Itisthat easy.” I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his softly. It takes a moment, but I feel something within him snap as his arms band around my waist tightly, lifting me off my feet and spinning us around to sit me on his desk. He places himself between my spread legs as he devours me with his kiss. His hand goes to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss while his other hand is on the desk beside my thigh, steadying himself. His lips are soft but firm and he kisses me with earnest, like he needs it as much as he needs air to breathe.
I clutch the front of his shirt in my fists, afraid that he’ll pull away from me, but the way he’s kissing me tells me he wants the opposite. I’m not letting go of whatever he’s not telling me, but right now, we need each other. I need him to show me that he still wants me, that he still cares and this past week has just been a blip, and he needs me to show him that whatever happens, I’m with him, standing firm by his side, always.
There’s a loud cough behind us, and Logan and I break apart, both our heads snapping towards the door where a man dressed in a dark suit stands with an amused expression, flanked by three other guys whose faces I can’t see. “I do apologise for interrupting. By all means carry on.”
The man in front of us is tall and slim, from the looks of him he’s not much older than Logan. It’s then that something in my brain clicks. I recognise him. He was here at the shop last week.
Who is he?
“What are you doing here?” Logan asks through gritted teeth as his grip on my waist tightens. He pulls me off the desk and positions me behind him.
