Page 77 of The Player Next Door
But this couldn’t have been farther from either of those. There was no charged innuendo between them now, just sadness and desperation. Logan kissed her like it was the last time he’d ever see her and Clare kissed him like it was their last night on earth. Rather than a rain shower washing them clean, their clothes were damp and cold to the touch as they clawed at each other. Logan got her blouse open first, trailing hot, searching kisses down her neck while she gave up on his shirt and fumbled with his belt buckle.
“I need you,” she gasped as he pushed her back against the wall.
Logan pressed into her, trapping her hands between them. He rolled his hips, letting her feel how hard he was already, and bunched the hem of her skirt in his hand.
He rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard, and slipped his hand under the elastic of her panties, cupping her mound. “Is this what you want?” he asked, wanting—needing—to be sure.
She nodded and he delved deeper, pressing first one finger, then another, deep inside her. Clare whimpered, anchoring herself with her hands on his forearms, and his breathing hitched ever so slightly.
Fuck.He missed her so much. He went slow at first, gauging her every reaction, dragging his fingers in and out until she was a whimpering, soaking mess. Then he pinned her clit between his fingers, just this side of too hard, and flicked it with his thumb until she was keening and he could feel her thighs were trembling.
Clare came with a sharp cry that Logan muffled with a kiss, barely giving her a moment to recover before he was lifting her up onto the hand railing and shoving his own pants down around his thighs. He still had a condom in his wallet from his ill-advised, doomed attempt at getting back out there with Steph, and he grabbed it and rolled it on.
Clare let her underwear fall to her ankles and kicked them off one foot, leaving them dangling when Logan lined himself up and pushed inside.
It was like falling and coming home, and it broke his heart. Being inside her was the best thing he had ever felt, but it had to be the last time. He wasn’t strong enough for this, and it was better for both if this was the last time.
Whatever they had before, it was broken now. Gone. Never coming back. This was a goodbye fuck, nothing more, and even as his heart shattered into smaller and smaller pieces, he let her pull him closer, filling his lungs with her scent. Logan nudged her cheek with his nose, clumsily finding her mouth, and he couldn’t tell if the wetness was from her cheeks or his, but in the end it didn’t matter. Logan came, spilling into the condom with a groan.
For the space of three heartbeats, neither of them moved. Their breath mingled and he let himself pretend it wasn’t the end. He let himself breathe her in, savor the feel of her skin under his hands.
But then reality sank in and he pulled out. Logan turned away, giving her time to wipe her face—and for him to wipe his—and they had just enough time to hastily rearrange their clothes before the fire department knocked on the ceiling and told them they’d be lowering them down soon.
They didn’t speak again.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Clare watched as Kiki scrambled toward the door, almost losing her footing as she rounded the corner of the kitchen island in her haste to get to Peggy as she walked in. Peggy crouched to scoop Kiki up, letting her lick her chin enthusiastically before setting her back down and dropping her purse on the island.
“Did you have a good weekend?” Peggy asked, helping herself to a homemade donut Clare had sitting out on a plate. She didn’t usually do anything that complicated—frying was not her best baking skill—but she had been in desperate need of a distraction to keep her from staring at Logan’s windows.
It had been a miserable weekend, honestly. Between the wreckage of her pitch, fucking Logan in the elevator, and then realizing that both her job and her love life were probably ruined beyond repair, she’d spent most of the time crying and feeling sorry for herself. She had called out of game day, pleading a headache. Her friends clearly didn’t believe her, but were letting her have her space. Kiki had been obviously concerned, spending more time than usual circling Clare’s lap to try and find the exact right spot to settle in. Clare had appreciated the attempt, but she was beyond even Kiki’s snuggles. Even her Good Doggo photo album didn’t help, which meant the situation was truly dire.
Clare’s smile almost met her eyes. “Kiki was great. A little bit dramatic about human food when I wouldn’t give her my entire sandwich yesterday, but otherwise she was delightful, same as always.”
Peggy had briefly closed her eyes in pleasure when taking a bite of the donut, but the look she fixed Clare with afterwards was direct. “Everything okay with you?”
“Not really. You should know Logan and I broke up, but don’t take it out on him or anything.”
“I’m offended you think I’d do anything of the sort,” Peggy sniffed, taking another bite. “But are you okay?”
“No,” she admitted. “I feel like shit, all the time. But I’ll get over it.” Clare picked at a donut herself. She didn’t have much of an appetite these days, which was not like her. Usually her sweet tooth was nearly uncontrollable, but lately everything she ate tasted like cardboard. But maybe if she forced herself to act normal, eventually it wouldfeelnormal. Or at least less shitty. “It takes time, you know?”
“I do,” Peggy said wisely. “But I don’t remember you being all that broken up about Reid, and you were with him much longer.”
Clare frowned to herself. She hadn’t really thought about it in comparison to the breakup with Logan, but that was probably because it felt so different. With Reid, she had felt rejected and sad, yes, but it was more about losing theideaof what she thought they could be. Reid had been . . . safe. He played Quest for Sulzuris, he laughed at her jokes, he likedAvatar: The Last Airbenderas much as she did. They liked the same things, and they got along just fine, and Clare had assumed that was all she needed. But she hadn’t ever bared her soul to him, not like she and Logan did that first night on the rooftop, nor had she ever wanted to. Deep down, maybe she had suspected Reid’s soul just wasn’t that interesting. When he broke up with her, she had been bummed for a while, yes, and hesitant to start dating again, but that was far less about Reid and far more about how she felt about herself in the aftermath. She’d been so complacent with Reid she didn’t notice the warning signs that he was planning to break up, and recovering from that had taken some time.
Logan, though. He was a hurricane she never saw coming. He’d blown into her life suddenly, tipping everything sideways and making her reconsider everything she thought she wanted in a partner. They had nothing in common, but still she found him endlessly fascinating. And she found she liked teaching him things, like baking and gaming, almost as much as she liked listening to him talk about something he was passionate about. No, she’d probably never love playing basketball, but now she at least vaguely understood why it was fun to watch.
Life without Reid was more or less the same as life with Reid, but life without Logan was infinitely duller. He’d made colors feel that much brighter, like there was a vibrancy she didn’t know she’d been missing. But she knew what she was missing now, and that hurt.
“Logan was different, for me,” Clare admitted, studying the pattern on her countertop far too closely. She couldn’t get his devastated face when they left the elevator out of her head, and maybe never would. “But we’re done. He made that very clear.”
Peggy looked at her sympathetically and picked up Kiki, handing her over to Clare for a quick cuddle. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Clare nuzzled her face into Kiki’s soft fur and sighed. She’d just have to figure out a way to muddle through.
Clare held her phone out toward the center of the table. “I need help,” she announced.