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After I finish, crying, she comes to me, pulls me into a big hug.

She doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t need to.

She’s there for me.

And I’m so grateful to have her, especially now that I’m pregnant with Logan’s baby.

ChapterSixteen

LOGAN

I can’t breathe.

As soon as I leave Meredith, I feel like there’re ants crawling under my skin.

She’s pregnant. It’s not yours. She’s not yours. Not yours! Not yours! Not yours!

I try to quiet the voices by going to the gym, working out until I’m dripping sweat and my muscles fail.

I can barely make it to the shower, and that damned voice is still there.

Someone else. Someone else touched your princess. Was inside her.

I feel like I could go out and howl at the moon right now, waves of jealousy washing through me.

I’m practically climbing the walls of my hotel room when I realize I can’t be here right now. I need something to occupy my brain, and badly.

So, I go to Bennigan’s.

I don’t know why I choose to go there, because as soon as I walk in, my eyes land on the pool table I had once bent Meredith over, drunk on beer and her smile.

I rub a hand over my face, ordering a double whiskey, neat.

The bartender’s cute, her breasts hanging out of her low-cut shirt, and she winks at me when she hands me my beer.

I could take her. I could flirt with her a little and end up taking her home.

But it’d go like every encounter I’ve had over the years. We’d make out a little, maybe this time I’d even get her off, but I could never let myself inside them.

I haven’t ever been inside anyone but Meredith Whitlock, and now I don’t know if I ever will.

So, I just grunt and shoot the drink back like a shot, ordering another.

After two times of that, my head spins slightly, but not enough. I wonder what she sounded like, under him. I wonder if she got on her knees for him.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

The bartender’s face softens as she walks over. “You okay?”

“No.” I throw a wad of cash on the bar before I walk away, heading to the door.

I have to get the hell out of here.

I stand in the street and look down at my phone. I’m not okay, and I should call someone. I shouldn’t be alone tonight. But who can I call?

Grayson.

He’s my best friend. He always has been. Maybe I can’t tell him who this is about, but I can get some advice about a mystery girl.