“No one is jerking me around, Evan.” Logan had been a straight shooter from the start, telling her they could only have a short-lived affair. She was the one who’d pushed for more than he was willing to give.
Her brother nodded and she was relieved that he appeared to accept her words. “Maybe what you have is catching.”
“What do you mean?”
“Logan’s down in the dumps too.”
Lacy was very careful not to look too interested in that tidbit, but Macie picked it up like it was a hundred dollar bill on the ground. “Really?”
Though she was responding to Evan’s comment, Macie’s gaze had zoomed in on Lacy—big time. The last thing she needed was for Macie to put two and two together. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Lacy needed to get out of here. Her head was pounding, her throat closing, and she was in serious danger of falling apart in the middle of the restaurant.
“Listen, Mace. Things are slow around here tonight. Do you mind covering for me? I’ve got a wicked headache.”
Macie nodded slowly, still studying her face too intently. “Sure. If things get busy, I’ll call Gia or Adele to come in and help out.”
“Thanks.” Lacy grabbed her purse from the storage closet then gave Evan a quick kiss on the cheek on her way out.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “Pinkie swear.”
He smiled and said goodbye.
Lacy waved then rushed outside. Glancing toward the sky, she saw a dark cloud forming in the distance. Looked like they were in for a storm tonight. Strangely, Lacy found some comfort in that thought. She wasn’t in the mood for sunshine.
Besides, maybe a good old-fashioned, noisy thunderstorm would drown out her crying. Because she had every intention of throwing one hell of a temper tantrum the second she got home. For days, she’d walked around in a haze of pent-up sorrow. She’d held her depression in, afraid to let it out. Now her skin felt as if it would crack from the pressure.
She stared at her feet as she pounded the pavement, walking the five blocks from the restaurant to her apartment in record time. She’d been so focused on the ground, she hadn’t noticed Logan’s truck parked on the street out front until she’d passed it. Then she glanced from the vehicle to the door.
Logan sat on the front stoop, his face stoic, unemotional. She hated the way he could tuck away his feelings so easily. It took all the strength she had not to go over and punch him in the stomach the way he had Bucky.
She felt a tear slide down her cheek, but she didn’t bother to dash it away. Ordinarily, she’d rather eat dirt than let someone see her cry. That didn’t apply this time. She wanted Logan to see her pain, to understand exactly how bad he’d hurt her.
Logan stood as she approached him. “Lacy.”
She simply stared at him as another tear fell. She was unable to speak, too afraid she’d rain down a torrent of horrible words on his head.
“Please don’t cry.”
Her jaw tightened, her teeth clenched. It was on the tip of her tongue to scream the words “Fuck you!” He didn’t get to tell her what to do. How to feel. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to break my promise to Evan.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Get upstairs.”
Her body responded before her brain could engage. She started upstairs. She hesitated briefly, but Logan was there, urging her to keep moving.
Lacy’s tears evaporated, her head whirling over what he’d said.
Broken promise.
She allowed him to propel her forward as she struggled to figure out what the hell was going on. Why was he here? Was he collecting on the last night? Did he still intend for this to be the end? Maybe his hormones had finally gotten the better of him.
God knew she’d been fighting some seriously hardcore sexual needs, employing her vibrator far more than was probably healthy. What was worse was the whole time she sought to assuage her needs, her heart was shattered. She missed him even as she cursed his name, and then screamed it during her self-inflicted orgasms.
