Page 23

CHAPTER 21

LOGAN

M y phone buzzed over and over again until I was forced to turn away from Sloane’s warm, sleeping body to see what was happening.

I scrolled through the texts, noting that, although it was chaos…it was in fact, not an emergency.

Camden: Wake up, Rookalicious.

Ari: No. Absolutely not.

Camden: Not a winner?

Ari: I shouldn’t be the only one saying this. Why aren’t more people speaking up?

Walker: I bet Geraldine calls him that.

I grimaced at that thought.

Camden: That’s actually why I’m texting.

Lincoln: Because Geraldine calls him that? I could have lived without that knowledge.

I nodded my head, because I agreed with that statement.

Camden: Geraldine has requested our presence tonight for dinner after practice. She claims it will be good luck because “we’ve been sucking something awful.”

Ari: She specifically mentioned me, right?

Camden: …

Ari: Get it together, Hero. That’s not the proper usage of that right now.

Ari: And why was Logan the first person you thought of in this scenario? How does that make any sense?

Camden: …

Lincoln: I actually thought that was the perfect usage.

Ari: Betrayal. The cold slice of betrayal. That’s what I’m feeling right now, Golden Boy.

Walker: As head of the Circle, it does seem like Linc can confirm the rules.

Ari: Listen, simp. I don’t think that we ever said that Lincoln Daniels was the head of the Circle. If it even exists, might I add.

Camden: See, I don’t think the leader of the Circle would pretend like it didn’t exist.

Ari Lancaster removed Camden James from the chat.

I was struggling not to laugh and wake up Sloane.

Lincoln Daniels added Camden James to the chat.

Ari: Apparently you chose violence this morning, Golden Boy.

Ari: I don’t like how this is going, gentlemen. Maybe I’m the leader of the Circle, and you’ve just gotten yourselves kicked out. Or maybe I’ll go and start a group called the Trust Tree or the Cone of Silence. Maybe the Mutual Mischief Club!

Lincoln: All of those are unequivocally terrible, Lancaster.

Walker: It’s true. No one will want to join those clubs.

Camden: …

Camden: Wait…we’re a club?

My body was shaking, and Sloane stirred next to me. Fuck. She needed her sleep. I’d worn her out, unable to stop myself from taking her multiple times throughout the night. Even now, I wanted her, although my dick was probably rubbed raw at this point.

Me: Alright, alright. No need to be so shouty. Rookalicious has entered the building.

Camden: Knew you would like that one.

Ari: I’m not talking to anyone. You guys are lucky my angel-poo wifey is next to me, because she’s the only one who could stop my rage at this point.

Lincoln: As we were saying…

Camden: Dinner. Tonight. 7:30 at Geraldine’s. She said to dress to impress.

Ari: You still haven’t answered me. She included me in that invitation, right? Like she said specifically, I can’t wait to see Ari again?

Camden: …

Camden: I think the main invite was actually for Logan, which I was very offended by, if that makes you feel any better, Lancaster.

Ari: …

Me: Good use of that, Ari.

Ari Lancaster removed Logan York from the chat.

A second later, Walker added me back in.

Me: It’s good to be back.

A soft sigh had me setting down the phone and turning toward the woman I was…in love with.

Holy fuck I was in love.

I’d known I was obsessed…I’d known I was attracted…but this? This feeling inside me, like the sun rose and fell with her presence, like I couldn’t live without her…it had to be love.

My eyes widened as I took her in, devouring her perfect features. Asleep, she looked so peaceful, and a sense of pride hit me that she trusted me enough to relax like this. She was still just stirring, coming out of her deep sleep, and I took the opportunity to just…watch her.

* * *

SLOANE

Sleep had always been my enemy. Nights were the worst—long, endless hours of tossing and turning, my mind a storm of memories and fears that wouldn’t shut off. The darkness felt suffocating, like it was pressing in from all sides, and no matter how hard I tried to escape it, I couldn’t. I hadn’t slept through a night in years. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to rest, to wake up without that fog of exhaustion dragging me down.

But after being with Logan, everything felt different.

I didn’t realize it at first. It crept up on me, slow and subtle, unlike the way he’d forced his way into my life. I woke up, tangled in the sheets, the sunlight streaming through the window, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I didn’t feel like a zombie.

I’d slept.

I’d actually slept.

I blinked, sitting up, rubbing my eyes like I couldn’t believe it. My heart pounded as the realization hit me—my mind had been quiet. For once I wasn’t haunted by nightmares, by the weight of everything I’d been running from.

Maybe Logan York did have some kind of magic.

The bed was empty next to me, the sheets still warm, though, so he must have just gotten up.

I stretched my arms above my head, loving the delicious soreness in every muscle of my body after the night we’d just had.

Swinging my legs to the side, I moved to get out of bed. And then I paused?—

I didn’t want to leave. I was afraid that once my feet hit the floor, the magic of this world Logan had built around us…it would disappear.

The door creaked, and a second later Logan was coming into the room, shirtless, holding a tray filled with delicious-smelling food.

A different kind of hunger was stirring inside me as I took in his tattooed chest.

“You can have all of that you want as soon as I get food in you,” he teased with an easy smile.

And something inside me cracked.

The tears came before I could stop them, hot and sudden, and I wiped at my eyes, embarrassed.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting down the tray, his brow furrowing with concern. “What’s wrong, baby?”

I shook my head, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “I—” My voice caught, and I had to swallow hard before I could get the words out. “I slept. Logan, I slept last night.”

He frowned, not understanding. “You slept?”

My voice was shaking as I explained. “I never sleep. I—my mind doesn’t shut off. I haven’t had a night without insomnia, without nightmares in years .” The tears kept coming, my heart on full display. “But last night…after being with you…I actually slept.”

His eyes softened, and he sat down on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “Sloane,” he said gently, his voice low, calming. “Maybe your body is finally believing what your mind doesn’t yet—that you’re safe here. Safe with me.”

The tears spilled over, and I shook my head, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to feeling like this. I don’t even know how to be like this.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over my skin. “Then let me show you. Let me show you what you deserve. Let me take care of you—take care of everything.”

I collapsed into his chest, the sobs breaking free, my hands clutching his arms like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. And in that moment, I realized that maybe—just maybe—I could trust this. Trust him.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t fighting the dark. I wasn’t running away.

I was running straight toward it.

* * *

Logan slowed down as we approached the front door of Geraldine’s penthouse. His pace went from brisk to suspiciously sluggish. I raised an eyebrow, watching him shuffle forward like a man on death row.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, my heels clicking on the tile floor.

“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly.

He shot a glance at the door ahead, then back at me. There was a twitch in his jaw, and his hands were jammed into his pockets like he was resisting the urge to bolt.

“Logan?” I pressed. “Are you…nervous?”

His shoulders tensed, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like You’ll see .

Before I could demand clarification, the door flew open, and a woman who could only be described as an eccentric hurricane of chiffon and sequins swept into view. Logan had told me Geraldine was pushing eighty, or possible there already…but the woman in front of me didn’t look like any eighty-year-old I’d ever met.

She was draped in a glittering gold gown that seemed to cascade like molten metal, its high neckline offset by a daring thigh slit. Her oversized earrings were shaped like chandeliers, swinging with every dramatic gesture she made, and a feathered capelet in deep emerald perched on her shoulders like she was ready to take flight.

Evidently, she hadn’t been kidding when she’d ordered us to “dress to impress,” as Logan had mentioned. I glanced down at my black cocktail dress…feeling wildly underdressed.

“My favorite boy!” she crowed, pulling Logan into an embrace that seemed more like a full-body tackle. She smacked a dramatic kiss on his cheek, leaving a crimson lipstick mark that he immediately tried to wipe off, his face a shade of pink I’d never seen before.

“Good to see you, Geraldine,” Logan murmured.

“And who is this lovely creature?” Geraldine asked, nonplussed at Logan’s awkwardness as she turned her sharp gaze to me.

Logan straightened up, his hand moving to my back as he pushed me forward like a sacrificial lamb. “This is Sloane,” he said, proudly.

“Oh-ho!” Geraldine said, eyeing me like she’d just uncovered a delightful secret. “The infamous Sloane. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I raised an eyebrow at Logan, who looked like he was about to spontaneously combust. “All good things, I hope.”

“Oh, darling,” Geraldine said with a wicked grin. “Good things are boring. Come in, come in!”

She stepped back, waving us inside with a flourish, and Logan grabbed my hand, pulling me along like his life depended on it. A few steps in, he moved me strategically in front of him, using me as some kind of human shield between himself and the eccentric older woman in front of us.

Geraldine glanced back at us as we walked, her eyes twinkling like she knew exactly what was going on.

The entryway was what you’d expect from a woman like Geraldine: massive, opulent, and dripping in luxury. But it wasn’t until we could see into the living room that I understood why Logan had been dragging his feet.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The room was filled with sculptures—most of them the same man…posing nude. But right in the center stood one that was unmistakably…Logan.

And it wasn’t just that it was him—it was him in nothing but a pair of briefs, his muscular form captured in excruciating detail. The pose was heroic, his chin tilted up as if he were surveying his kingdom, but the whole thing was so ridiculous that I couldn’t hold it in.

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped, doubling over in laughter. “Is that…is that you?”

Logan groaned, running a hand over his face. “Can we just?—”

“Isn’t it fabulous?” Geraldine interrupted, her voice dripping with smug amusement as she pointed at the sculpture with an exaggerated flourish. “It captures him perfectly. Even my Harold would have thought so,” she said, pointing to the man featured in her nude collection.

“That’s her late husband,” Logan murmured in my ear, still sounding completely mortified.

“How did you manage to make the list for her…art?” I whispered back.

The doorbell sounded, and Geraldine began to walk back to the front door. “Go in and make yourselves comfortable, darlings. I’m sure that’s the others.”

“Kill me now,” Logan said as we walked into the living room. “I’m never going to be able to live this down.”

The sound of laughter erupted from behind us, and the rest of the crew walked in. Camden was hunched over, looking like he was about to fall to the ground, Ari was clutching his stomach, and Lincoln—who I’d never seen look anything other than composed—was leaning against the entryway like he’d lost the ability to walk. Walker and Olivia were staring at everything with their jaws wide open, and the rest of the girls were giggling.

“I can’t believe it,” Camden choked out between laughs.

“Your clothes were on when we walked in that night,” Ari said, wiping a tear from his eye. “You left out some pretty big details, Rookie.”

“Shut up,” Logan grumbled, his ears turning red. “You have no idea what that night was like. It was the purple drink. I blame it completely.”

“It’s so nice that we can gather together like this,” Geraldine said, clapping her hands as she walked up from behind the group.

Ari suddenly put his hand over Blake’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” she squealed, trying to bat him away.

“Geraldine? Those proportions are exaggerated, right?” Ari asked, his gaze dipping to the…ginormous bulge in Logan’s briefs on the statue.

“No,” she chortled delightedly. “Everything is completely accurate.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Lincoln began pushing Monroe toward the other side of the room. “Appetizers are in the dining room, Geraldine?” he called behind him as he made sure that Monroe was faced away from the statue.

“Oh, well, I was thinking we could enjoy hors d’oeuvres and drinks in here but…” Geraldine began.

“Dining room sounds great,” Camden said, gliding Anastasia toward the archway that Lincoln and Monroe had just disappeared through.

“I could pose for you,” Ari suddenly offered, his hands going to his waist like he was going to start undressing right here.

“That’s all right, dear,” Geraldine said, almost dismissively as she swept dramatically toward the dining room. “I think my collection is complete.”

Ari’s jaw dropped.

“How is she not noticing how hot I am?” he complained.

Blake patted him on the chest, a wide grin on her face. “You’re hot to me, Lancaster,” she cooed reassuringly.

Ari’s eyes grew hooded, and he smirked at her, pulling her into his chest. “Good, because you’re stuck with me, angel face,” he said, and I looked away, because it was suddenly getting very hot in here.

Geraldine stopped Walker before he and Olivia had made it to the dining room. “You know… you would make an excellent addition to my collection, Walker dear. I could make an exception for you.”

Walker was turned away from me, but I could see the tips of his ears turning red, even from where I was standing.

Logan was cracking up next to me, burying his face in my neck.

Ari stiffened and pointed a finger in the air as he kept Blake plastered against him with his other arm. “This is an outrage ,” he hissed.

Blake started giggling.

“This is not funny.”

“Sorry,” she said, her giggles turning into hysterical laughter. “But it kind of is.”

“Traitor,” he grumbled, letting her go and hustling after the eccentric woman. “Geraldine, have you been watching my thirst traps lately?”

She ignored him as she disappeared from the room, but it took Logan a second before his laughter calmed and he could hold himself upright.

We passed his sculpture, and I stopped in front of it. “You know, I don’t think it’s quite as big as you are,” I commented.

“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Red,” Logan said before he pulled me into a deep kiss. I was breathless when he released me, my body ready to desert this dinner party and head home for another round in bed.

“Soon,” he commented, his eyes growing hooded and his dick stiffening as he pulled me close.

“Logan, darling. Are you two joining us?” Geraldine asked, popping her head out. “I want to talk about your tattoos.”

“Coming,” Logan answered in a choked voice, looking very afraid all of a sudden.

“Pssh. You talk a big game, Logan York, but I think you actually like how Geraldine fawns over you.”

His cheeks flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I leaned in close as we started to walk. “After we’re done talking about your tattoos…I think I want to hear about what happened that night.”

Logan gulped and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

Dinner was as extravagant as you’d expect—long table, crystal chandeliers, more silverware than was necessary—and the chaos didn’t stop once we sat down.

Ari, clearly desperate for Geraldine’s attention, kept trying to chime in with witty comments, only to be ignored as she focused on Logan or Walker. Every time Ari opened his mouth, Geraldine waved him off like an annoying fly.

“Geraldine,” Ari said finally, his voice taking on an exaggeratedly dignified tone. “If you don’t acknowledge my brilliance soon, I may take my talents elsewhere.”

Geraldine didn’t even look at him. “Yes, dear, you do that.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Ari threw up his hands in exasperation. “You’re all dead to me.”

“You’ll survive,” Lincoln said dryly, raising his glass in a mock toast.

As the night went on, the banter flowed as freely as the non-alcoholic wine, and I couldn’t help but notice Logan relaxing beside me, his earlier tension melting away. At some point, Geraldine leaned over to me, her sharp eyes twinkling.

“He’s different with you,” she said quietly, nodding toward Logan.

I glanced at him, my chest tightening at the softness in his expression as he laughed at something Camden had said. “Different how?”

Geraldine smiled knowingly. “Happy.”

For a moment, I couldn’t find a response. Instead, I just squeezed Logan’s hand under the table, feeling a warmth I hadn’t expected. Maybe Geraldine was right. Maybe he was different.

And maybe, just maybe, so was I.