Page 38 of Break the Barrier

“Only if you behave yourself.” He points his finger at her, and she giggles.

“I will.” She waves him off. “Go help Uncle Stetson!”

Logan looks at me then, and I hold my breath, wondering if he’ll say or do anything in front of people. The way he held me the other day when he came in here just to give me a dance pops into my head, and I have to beat down the rising blush that threatens to expose me.

“Thank you.” The words finally escape him, and I release the breath I was holding.

“Not a problem.” Logan leaves us, and Lue immediately launches into discussions about the play.

I listened intently, my mind on her, but somewhere lingering deep down, there was hope.

And hope, as they say, is dangerous.

14

logan

My arm won’t stop throbbing, pulsinglike there was a damn heart right there in my forearm.

“Fucking hell,” I say to it, pulling up to the house and sliding out of the truck.

It was late.

Later than I anticipated being gone, and I was nearly positive that Lue was going to be in bed already. Which was fine, except that I left all of that responsibility on Thea, which isn’t fair in the slightest.

The little light on the porch is on, but beyond that, it looks like most of the house lights are turned off.

I scuff my boots against the porch, my forehead sweating slightly at the exertion, and I let myself into the house.

There’s noise coming from the TV, and when I enter the living room, Thea is there, tucked up in the corner of the couch, her feet under her and a blanket resting over her lap.

She looks at home, and although I am in a lot of pain, I take asecond to admire the way she looks in my home, the way she fits here.

Her eyes move and latch onto mine in surprise, her mouth hitching into a bashful smile. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I’m sorry, I lost my damn phone.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” She stands, folding the blanket and putting it back on the couch. I still haven’t moved from where I lean against the hallway wall. “Lue ran off to bed a little bit ago, said she has a strict bedtime.”

“Self-inflicted strict bedtime,” I clarify, wondering how I got the most obedient kid.

“That’s cute.” She comes and stands in front of me. Her hair is down from the bun it was in earlier, and I have to hold back the urge to dive my fingers into it and pull her into me.

“Thanks for watching her.” I finally bend, ripping off my boots. When I use my right forearm, I can’t stop the groan of pain when I do so.

“Hey, you okay?” Thea’s hand rests on my shoulder, and I look up at her, panting and feeling more pathetic than I have in a while. “Logan, you’re sweating. What’s wrong?”

Her cool hand brushes over my forehead, and I lean into her touch. “Nothing, just got a scratch on my arm.”

Her brows furrow, and she grabs my arm, sliding my long-sleeve button-up out of the way. A soft gasp escapes her. “Logan, why didn’t you go to the ER?”

“It’s not that bad,” I say, wondering for a moment if I should have said something to CT or Stetson about it, but I brush aside the thought.

“This looks bad,” she says, grasping my other hand and sliding our fingers together. She tugs me into the house. “We need to clean it.”

“Thea, you’ve already done so much for me,” I say, and I wonder for a minute if I just slurred my words.

“Hush,” she says quietly, leading me to the very back of the house where my room is, as there’s an en suite attached to it.