Page 45 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

Tia doesn’t flinch. Her eyes glisten, but not a single tear falls for me. She stands like stone, unshaken, while I crumble in front of her. Every second of her silence slices deeper, unraveling what little composure I have left. I can feel her slipping, inch by inch, as if my words came too late.

“I was miserable, T. I didn’t know how to deal with my emotions, let alone deal with my feelings for you —my best friend!”

“So, you thought the best way to do that was to fuck Krista?”

I wince at the reality of her question. In hindsight, it was stupid as fuck to sleep with Krista. I knew it before I had the condom on.

Fuck, I knew it well before then if I’m being honest with myself.

“I wanted to push away my feelings for you because you made it clear there was nothing happening between us. I was shit-faced and needed a way to get you out of my head.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault then?”

“No. It’s not your fault. I didn’t say that.”

I dig the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. This is why I don’t do relationships. I thought honesty was the best policy, and was willing to put my best foot forward because it’s what Tia deserves. I wouldn’t do this for any other woman.

I told myself it was for her. That it would be worth it. But now I’m left with nothing but the bitter sting of regret, curling in my stomach like smoke from a fire I lit with my own hands.

Goddamnit.

“Typical Logan,” she scoffs. “When shit gets too real, you find a wet pussy to sink your dick into instead of facing reality.”

Sharp pain slices through my chest. She knew exactly where to hit, and she didn’t miss. She made sure I felt the wrath—and the unfortunate truth—behind her words, gutting me completely. And damn if it didn’t work.

My jaw clenches as the bitter sting settles. I force a breath through my nose, trying to keep the storm from breaking loose inside me.

“You want to talk about facing reality?” I bite back. “You were the one who ran away from me! I confronted you—practically begged you to tell me what was happening between us was real. That I wasn’t going crazy over your jealousy or the way you were looking at me—touching me?”

“I’m sorry, okay? Yes, I denied you. I lied.

I lied because I was terrified of my feelings for you, Logan.

Jesus.” Tia sweeps her hand over her face, subtly wiping a single tear from the corner of her eye.

“Over ten years of friendship and trust. Watching you plow through your endless revolving door of women, and then suddenly I had these feelings I couldn’t explain.

I denied you because I was afraid you’d do something like this!

” she shrieks, throwing her defeated hands in the air.

Her lack of faith in me is sobering. I know I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t care about women’s hearts. And the one time I do, I’m already screwing it up six ways from Sunday. My mind scrambles for ways to make this right, but the only thing that comes to mind is the need to touch her.

“You asked me earlier if this was real?” I lunge toward her, grabbing her wrists and forcing her hands to lie on my bleeding heart.

“This? Us?” I slap her palms against my chest. “Is fucking real. And you know what? I don’t give a shit if you lied to my face and told me you felt nothing for me.

” I press our foreheads together, causing her breath to stutter.

“Because your body tells me differently. Your eyes, your heart …” I release the grip on her wrists, trailing down her body until I land at the juncture between her thighs.

She lets out a faint gasp. “Your pussy . I know every inch of you, baby. So, go on and lie to me all you want, because I won’t believe you. ”

We stand there, breathing the thick tensioned air between us. Tia’s eyes squeeze shut. Then she pushes me away, breaking the physical connection that has me wanting to crumble to the floor.

“It’s my fault. I knew this couldn’t work from the start,” she whispers, giving me her back with her head hung between her shoulders. She closes her suitcase, resting her hands on top of it.

“Why would you say that? Hey, look at me.” I come up behind her, circling her waist. “Baby, look at me,” I murmur against her ear.

She reluctantly turns around to face me, and when her eyes open, it knocks the breath out of me. So much beauty and pain in one expression, it takes everything to not lean in and kiss it all away.

“Please don’t say that. We’re good together, T. Fucking electric. You’ve gotta see that. I made a mistake. I’m so fucking sorry. I thought of you the entire time I was with her. I even called out your name when I?—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? That you thought of me the whole time your dick was inside of her? Jesus Logan, stop fucking talking. Please,” she begs.

A single tear breaks the barrier, trailing down her cheek.

I catch it with my thumb, swiping it away much like how I wish I could swipe away my night with Krista.

“I don’t want to know. I don’t want to think of you with her. Just …” Tia shakes her head back and forth like she’s trying to erase the image out of her head. “Just drop it, okay? Clearly, we are not ready for this. We aren’t mature enough to handle this thing between us.”

A sudden wave of anger crashes through me. I can take her calling me out on my shit. I can take her calling out my sick need to have a different woman every week to suppress the deep-rooted issues I have with commitment.

But Tia giving up? I won’t accept that.

“Don’t do that. I regret that night with her—especially now, after seeing how it’s tearing us apart. But if anything, it made it crystal clear that I should be here with you. I don’t want to be the guy I was before, T.”

The words scrape out of me, heavy with truth.

I can see them hit her. It’s in the tight line of her jaw, the flicker in her eyes.

Pain threads through every syllable, wrapping around my throat—but it’s nothing compared to the ache of watching her hold herself together to keep from breaking in front of me.

Her gaze fixes on the couch. The ceiling. The window. Anywhere but on me.

Frustration bubbles up too hot for me to temper it.

“Damn it, Tia, look at me!” I shout. Her head jolts toward me, eyes wide at the boom of my voice.

“Logan, what do you want me to say? I want to believe you. I really do. But you sleeping with Krista just proved my point. You are that guy. And honestly, I have no right to be upset over this because we weren’t even together,” Tia sighs.

“How do I know you won’t get sick of me? How do I know you won’t get bored?”

“Do you hear yourself?” I point out incredulously. “Sick of you? Bored with you? All I want is you . All the fucking time. This works because we’re friends, Tia. You’re not just some random fuck! Can’t you fucking see that?”

“Look at us!” she spits back. “This is not us, Logan.” Her finger points back and forth between our chests. “We’re in way over our heads. I can fight until I’m blue in the face with anyone else in the world, but I refuse to do that with you.”

In all our years of friendship, we’ve never fought.

Not like this. I suppose it’s one of the reasons why we’ve never crossed the line.

Why ruin what we have if it leads to this type of pain?

I know for certain it’s why I don’t do girlfriends.

The back and forth is exhausting. The screaming matches, the disappointment.

It’s all too familiar. Way too close to home.

“With the absolute shit storm my life is right now, the last thing I need is to lose you. To lose your friendship. I need you more than ever in that capacity. I will not lose you as my friend.”

She says it with total conviction, but it guts me all the same. The word ‘friend’ lands like a slap to the face. My chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths as I try to pretend that’s enough. That it wouldn’t break me to stand beside her as just that. But it would. Fuck, it already is.

We stand here, eyes locked, like we’re silently begging the moment to shift. For something—anything—to pull us back to who we were before the lines blurred. But it’s slipping fast. And maybe she’s right. Maybe we were never meant to hold this much weight.

“Why are you being like this?” I ask, voice rising, cracking beneath the pressure. “Hasn’t this weekend shown you I’m trying? That I’m changing ? Why are you so afr?—”

“I’m moving.”

The words hit like a punch to the chest. I take a step back, like distance might soften the blow.

She’s leaving?

My legs suddenly feel unsteady, and I drop onto the arm of the couch with a defeated thud. My body needs something solid to hold me up. Everything in the room feels off-balance now. Including me.

“My mom called me early this morning while you were asleep. She thought I was Nora.”

Shit.

Tia moves to sit on the couch, burying her face in her hands.

The silence in the room is deafening. On one hand, I want to strangle her for being so fucking stubborn about us.

I know I fucked up, but the way she’s leading me to believe she’s giving up on us kills me.

And the other part of me wants to scoop her up in my arms and take her away from all the suffering.

“I told my dad I’m moving back to Oakwood Valley. I’ve already emailed Roy my notice. I leave in two weeks.”

Painful memories blindside me. I try to push them out, but they come at me full force. It’s too tough to ignore.

“I’m leaving, baby.”

“But why? Are we not enough for you?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“I have to go. Take care of your father. You’re old enough to be the man of the house. Look after him.”

“But Mom! Wait! Don’t go!”

Tears form behind my eyes, and I shut them tight to keep them at bay. Maybe I’m a fool, like my father—loving women who leave us, anyway.

Tia rises slowly and paces to the bathroom. I let it unfold, frozen to the arm of the couch, listening to the clatter of her toiletries and whatever else she left on the counter being thrown into a bag.

I watch her pack the heels she wore for me on that first night—still able to feel the sting of her stiletto digging into my shoulder as I devoured her. I watch her pack the silky black dress she stripped off for me before I lost myself inside of her.

She zips our entire weekend into one suitcase, closing it up and locking it away like it never happened. It’s not until she pulls the handle up and walks toward the door that I snap out of my trance.

“Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to walk away from me after everything that’s happened!” I cry out to her. My voice breaks in a whisper. “We can’t take it back.”

Her tears fall, but she makes no move to come to me. We stand at a painful distance, teetering on the edge of this terrifying unknown. We threw ourselves in without care of the consequences. And now we’ve both been burned.

“I can’t do this with you right now, Logan. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

I want to move. I want to throw myself between her and the door, block her path, make her stay. Every nerve in my body screams at me to stop her.

That’s your woman walking out. Go get her.

But I don’t.

The door creaks open, and I just stand there frozen. Paralyzed.

She’s leaving in slow motion, and all I can do is watch it happen like some cruel déjà vu. And then, just before she steps out, her broken hazel eyes lift to meet mine.

But it’s not my Tia staring back at me. No.

It’s the gaunt-faced lady. Walking out on me all over again.