“Are you sure?” he continued. “Logan seemed hella pissed. And then you ran out… ”
“I wasn’t feeling well,” I replied quickly.
“Feeling better now?”
I kept my eyes facing front. “Not really, no.”
“Anything I can do?”
More laughter rippled through the gathering while I shut my eyes with a sigh. “I think… I think I need to get some air.” Standing, I rubbed my clammy hands down the front of my jeans and turned to leave.
Jordy stood with me. “Do you want company?”
“No, thanks,” I whispered, my gaze freezing on the window. Logan stood just outside, his narrowed eyes meeting mine through the glass, his expression thunderous. Turning abruptly, he disappeared from sight.
“Shit,” I breathed, hurrying across the hall, pushing through the double doors and jogging down the stairs. I didn’t bother calling out to Logan, his long legs had already carried him halfway across camp.
By the time I’d reached the cabin, I found Logan seated at the table inside, his arms folded tightly over his chest, his thunderous expression unchanged.
“I think—I think we need to talk,” I stammered. “I-I think—”
Logan exploded up out of his seat and I jerked in surprise. “You think we should just pretend it never happened—just forget it entirely, right?”
“God, why are you like this?” I shouted. “Why does literally everything have to be a fight?”
“Why amIlike this? Do you hear yourself? Why areyoulike this?” he demanded, glaring at me from behind the table. “I don’t understand you—I don’t fucking understand anything you do. You’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met!”
“And you’re not?” I scoffed. “Logan, you’ve spent your entire life angry at everyone and everything. Don’t you ever get sick of being pissed off? I know I’m sick of it.”
Logan stepped around the table. “Yeah,” he said bitterly. “I should have been more like you and Luke, right? And then maybewe’d all be dead right now.”
My nostrils flared. “Fuck you,” I gritted out, reaching for the door. “That’s always going to be your signature move, isn’t it—everything’s Willow’s fault.”
The door slammed shut just as I’d yanked it open. Towering over me, Logan backed me into a wall. “This isn’t going to be like last time,” he growled. “You don’t get to walk away and pretend it never happened.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” I spat. “But I’m not going to act like it was okay, either.” Frustrated, I clenched my hands into fists. “Because it wasn’t okay.” Despite my anger, my chin quivered. “Don’t you care about that? Don’t you care that we hurt him again?”
“It’s not the same,” he ground out haltingly. “It’s not the fucking same.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” I muttered.
Logan barked out a humorless laugh. “Me? Because your way of dealing with things is so much better? I forgot how well adjusted you are. Must have missed that between all the stupid shit you’re always doing.”
I unwittingly stepped forward, my hands still balled into angry fists. Logan matched my step, leaving only inches between us
“What?” he growled. “Do you need to hit me again, or fuck me? Tell me, Willow, what do you need from me this time?” He spread his arms out wide and shouted, “Because that’s what I’m here for, right? Whatever the fuck you need!”
I stared at him for one long, horrible moment before dragging in a ragged breath. My chest felt cracked open, dissected even. “I hate you,” I breathed.
“Do you?” he challenged. “Or does telling yourself that make it easier?”
“No—I really do hate you right now!”
Closing the last remaining inch between us, he said mockingly, “Yeah, sure you do. You know what I think? I don’t think you hate me at all. I think this isyouhatingyourself.”
“I don’t remember anyone asking you what you thought.”
“What’s worse, Willow?” he continued, ignoring my snub. “That it happened again…or that you wanted it?”
