We drove the last few blocks in silence, but I kept hearing Nate’s words in my head. As soon as he wheeled into our driveway, I was out and rounding the vehicle. Nate just opened his door when I reached in, grabbed him. I yanked him out. No words were spoken. He knew what was coming, and I hit him. I hit him as hard as I could, and after the one hit, I let him go. I turned around, not giving a damn if he fell to the ground or if he was just dazed. If I looked, I’d want to hit him again, and maybe a third time.
Mason came after me. “He’s wrong.”
“No.” I shook my head, acknowledging what Nate said. Some of my anger melted, but it was replaced with bitterness. “He’s not.”
“He’s wrong, Logan. He is.” My brother’s voice quieted. “Tate did this shit to you. Kris and Sam, they didn’t. Don’t let him make you think that.”
“No.” Mason was wrong, too. “Don’t you get it? It’s not them. It’s not even Tate.” That was the problem. “I wish it was them.”
“Then what is it? Are you hardened?”
“Yeah.” I drew in a sharp breath. That stung, even just admitting that. “But it’s not because of any of them. That’s not why I’m like this.”
“Then why?”
I had to laugh. The sound was sad and bitter. It came from a dark place in me. My brother, who knew everything, who’d raised me since we were little, didn’t know. But it wasn’t his problem. He had someone who’d never leave him. He’d never leave her. He never had to have this problem.
I backed up toward the house, shaking my head. “No, Mase.”
“Logan.” He started to come with me.
“No.” I shot my hands up, stopping him. “I need space.”
TAYLOR
Last night’s nightmare kept me awake for a while, so when I went back to sleep, it was late. I woke up late, and when I checked my phone, there were no texts from Jason or Claire. There were a few from Logan. I was already grinning when I clicked on the first one.
Drunk. 3 am. That means one thing. I’m missing my taco. ;) Are you my taco?
That was followed with, All jokes aside, I want to take you to that place. Your DoucheCanoe lives right next to it, but it’s good food. It’s worth the risk of murky douche waters.
I laughed and clicked on another message. It had arrived earlier this morning. Escaped unscathed. A little bit of a hangover headache. That’s it. Reading over my texts to you last night. No wonder I dreamed about fucking tacos. I thought I watched some weird porn last night.
And the last one was sent an hour ago. Heading home. If you don’t text back, I’m going to be that guy. I’m coming over. Don’t call the cops on me. I don’t have a record with them. Yet.
I got a five-second warning. I read that text, heard a car door shut, and my doorbell was ringing in the next breath. And it kept going. He was holding his finger to it. I cursed, made sure I was wearing a bra, and hurried to answer the door.
Logan stepped back, but kept his finger on the doorbell as I opened the door. “You didn’t answer my messages,” he said over the noise.
“Stop.” I grabbed his arm, pulled it away. Finally, the air was silent. My ears were not. They were still ringing. “I’m going to hear that damn thing for the next hour.”
“Give me an hour.” Logan passed me, heading inside and swatting my butt on the way. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be hearing your own climax for the next week, Firecracker.”
Oh dear God. I stopped in the doorway. His words and the casual way he spoke them burst a dam inside of me. I was instantly wet, and I groaned under my breath.
“You coming?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes as I shut the door. “Did you have to use that word?”
He’d disappeared around the corner to the kitchen, but he came back now, a wicked glint in his eyes. “We can skip the formalities and head right for your bedroom, if that’s what you want?” he drawled.
My heart pounded against my chest like it wanted out. “Can you lay off and at least let me have a cup of coffee?”
I stopped as soon as I started. I used the wrong word this time.
“What was that about laying you?” Logan’s grin went up a notch. “You want me to stop, and you say that to me?”
I held up a hand, shaking my head. “Just…leave it alone for now.” I walked around him, giving him a wide berth. If he touched my ass again, I didn’t trust myself. We might end up in my bedroom sooner than I wanted. Logan followed me, and I snuck a look at him from underneath my eyelashes. He was poking around the kitchen and dining room, and for once, his hawk-like attention wasn’t on me.
I had to get real with myself, and I had to do it fast. Logan Kade was a tornado. When he showed up, he took over, and everything was swept up in his wake. Yes, as soon as I’d seen him on the doorstep, I knew it was going to happen. It always did, but this time, I hoped to prolong it. I wanted more time with him, outside of the bedroom. I poured myself some coffee and put the pot back. My hand tightened around the handle. I had to manage some semblance of control, or he would talk me into bending over the table.
Logan was hot and charming. He had charisma coming out of his asshole, but things needed to simmer. I looked at him and gulped. He was giving me bedroom eyes, like he could see through me, see my thoughts, and why the hell weren’t we already up there?
“You okay?” he asked.
Mason came after me. “He’s wrong.”
“No.” I shook my head, acknowledging what Nate said. Some of my anger melted, but it was replaced with bitterness. “He’s not.”
“He’s wrong, Logan. He is.” My brother’s voice quieted. “Tate did this shit to you. Kris and Sam, they didn’t. Don’t let him make you think that.”
“No.” Mason was wrong, too. “Don’t you get it? It’s not them. It’s not even Tate.” That was the problem. “I wish it was them.”
“Then what is it? Are you hardened?”
“Yeah.” I drew in a sharp breath. That stung, even just admitting that. “But it’s not because of any of them. That’s not why I’m like this.”
“Then why?”
I had to laugh. The sound was sad and bitter. It came from a dark place in me. My brother, who knew everything, who’d raised me since we were little, didn’t know. But it wasn’t his problem. He had someone who’d never leave him. He’d never leave her. He never had to have this problem.
I backed up toward the house, shaking my head. “No, Mase.”
“Logan.” He started to come with me.
“No.” I shot my hands up, stopping him. “I need space.”
TAYLOR
Last night’s nightmare kept me awake for a while, so when I went back to sleep, it was late. I woke up late, and when I checked my phone, there were no texts from Jason or Claire. There were a few from Logan. I was already grinning when I clicked on the first one.
Drunk. 3 am. That means one thing. I’m missing my taco. ;) Are you my taco?
That was followed with, All jokes aside, I want to take you to that place. Your DoucheCanoe lives right next to it, but it’s good food. It’s worth the risk of murky douche waters.
I laughed and clicked on another message. It had arrived earlier this morning. Escaped unscathed. A little bit of a hangover headache. That’s it. Reading over my texts to you last night. No wonder I dreamed about fucking tacos. I thought I watched some weird porn last night.
And the last one was sent an hour ago. Heading home. If you don’t text back, I’m going to be that guy. I’m coming over. Don’t call the cops on me. I don’t have a record with them. Yet.
I got a five-second warning. I read that text, heard a car door shut, and my doorbell was ringing in the next breath. And it kept going. He was holding his finger to it. I cursed, made sure I was wearing a bra, and hurried to answer the door.
Logan stepped back, but kept his finger on the doorbell as I opened the door. “You didn’t answer my messages,” he said over the noise.
“Stop.” I grabbed his arm, pulled it away. Finally, the air was silent. My ears were not. They were still ringing. “I’m going to hear that damn thing for the next hour.”
“Give me an hour.” Logan passed me, heading inside and swatting my butt on the way. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be hearing your own climax for the next week, Firecracker.”
Oh dear God. I stopped in the doorway. His words and the casual way he spoke them burst a dam inside of me. I was instantly wet, and I groaned under my breath.
“You coming?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes as I shut the door. “Did you have to use that word?”
He’d disappeared around the corner to the kitchen, but he came back now, a wicked glint in his eyes. “We can skip the formalities and head right for your bedroom, if that’s what you want?” he drawled.
My heart pounded against my chest like it wanted out. “Can you lay off and at least let me have a cup of coffee?”
I stopped as soon as I started. I used the wrong word this time.
“What was that about laying you?” Logan’s grin went up a notch. “You want me to stop, and you say that to me?”
I held up a hand, shaking my head. “Just…leave it alone for now.” I walked around him, giving him a wide berth. If he touched my ass again, I didn’t trust myself. We might end up in my bedroom sooner than I wanted. Logan followed me, and I snuck a look at him from underneath my eyelashes. He was poking around the kitchen and dining room, and for once, his hawk-like attention wasn’t on me.
I had to get real with myself, and I had to do it fast. Logan Kade was a tornado. When he showed up, he took over, and everything was swept up in his wake. Yes, as soon as I’d seen him on the doorstep, I knew it was going to happen. It always did, but this time, I hoped to prolong it. I wanted more time with him, outside of the bedroom. I poured myself some coffee and put the pot back. My hand tightened around the handle. I had to manage some semblance of control, or he would talk me into bending over the table.
Logan was hot and charming. He had charisma coming out of his asshole, but things needed to simmer. I looked at him and gulped. He was giving me bedroom eyes, like he could see through me, see my thoughts, and why the hell weren’t we already up there?
“You okay?” he asked.
