Page 19

19

LOGAN

I felt like a garbage human. Sending Quentin back to the house had been the wrong choice, and I regretted it since he walked out.

He’d hurt my feelings, and I reacted poorly.

“Honey, let me take you home so you can rest.” My dad kept staring at me, questions on his face as I devoured my sandwich. Sometimes I made poor choices when I was hungry, and after the worry and chaos from dinner, I needed food.

“Are you two gonna stay here all night?”

“No.” My mom sighed and ran her hand over Carly Jean’s arm. “I’m staying with her because they want to do some tests. Dad is going home. You can stay with us tonight and then in the morning, we can see what the plan is.”

My throat tightened as I nodded. The adrenaline from the evening was still there, coursing through me and crashing hard. From Quentin’s clearly uncomfortable demeanor at dinner, to his mom, to Gage and Rat Queen, to my sister… I yawned and slid farther into the chair. Exhaustion hit me like a truck, and in a weird twist of events, I wanted to curl up against Quentin.

“Why did you make Quentin leave? He was kind.” My dad rubbed his jaw, studying my reaction with a careful gaze.

Shame flamed up my neck and face as I twisted my fingers together. “We’re just friends, and he said this felt intimate. It hurt my feelings, and I figured it’d be better if he left.”

“There is no way that guy sees you as just a friend, honey. He watched you the entire time and made sure you were alright.” My mom smiled. “Were you two on a date?”

Ugh. This was not ideal. I couldn’t explain to my parents that we were fake dating for a few weeks. They wouldn’t get that, and it was almost embarrassing. Instead, I shook my head. “No, we were out to dinner, but it was as friends.”

“Okay, so how did Gage come into this? You’re wearing his old shirt, which we heard all about, and he drove you. There’s a story here.”

I winced and curled up in the chair to wrap my arms around my knees. “It’s kinda long.”

“We have time. Visitors leave at nine—in an hour. So spill it. You know you can’t keep a secret to save your life, Log, and you’ll feel better if you talk it out with us.” My mom’s voice was comforting. She was also right.

My parents and I had always been close. It was just the three of us until I was sixteen, and Carly Jean changed our world. Instead of them forgetting about their oldest, they brought me closer. We talked about struggles and money and how to grow up without half-truths. Jordan’s mom avoided feelings and real topics while mine didn’t.

They knew Gage had cheated on me. They knew I’d slept with Gage and made sure I had birth control. They truly were the best, but I still hesitated before I unloaded everything (minus the whole sleeping with Quentin part).

I told them about Gage and the fake dating idea and Quentin and I hanging out and flirting more and more. That we kissed. That his mom was awful, but he felt trapped somehow.

“And tonight, before dinner, he worried that it’d change how I see him. It did a little. As his mom was rude, he didn’t say anything back. He just sat there.” I squeezed my eyes shut, his evident concern making me feel worse.

“Ugh, I need to call him.” I sniffed and found both parents smiling at me. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like when you realize when you mess up. It shows character growth.” My mom winked and elbowed my dad’s side. “Hurt people hurt people. If you trust and like Quentin, then you owe him an apology. After sitting through that dinner, then seeing our family? That might’ve upset him and made him feel insecure in some way. We don’t push others away when they are upset. We welcome them.”

“I’m worried I like him,” I whispered, staring at a stained part on the wall. “We made it clear that we were friends, nothing more. Yet I think I have feelings for him.”

My dad grunted. “Might be too soon for you after Gage.”

“I know. I totally know. Plus, we’re housemates. That just makes it weird and complicated. He also refuses to date, says he can’t love anyone.” I ran my hands through my hair, ignoring the way my heart beat twice as fast thinking about Quentin walking home alone. “I need to call him. I’ll step outside for a minute.”

“Good idea, honey. If you want to go back to the house with your friends, you can. One thing though…” she trailed off, waiting for me to look at her. “Love shows different forms. Friendship is love and can easily grow into something different. Don’t… write him off, okay?”

“She doesn’t need to date again after what that asshole did to her,” my dad replied.

“Sure, but sometimes love is sneaky and unplanned.” My mom shrugged. “Go call him. He walks with the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

I swallowed a ball of emotion and quietly headed outside the room, leaning against the wall to take a deep breath. There was a small waiting area near the elevators, and I made my way there, hoping no one else was around. I hated when others heard me talk on the phone. It weirded me out.

There was a guy in the back who seemed familiar, and as I neared, my stomach swooped. Quentin. I must’ve gasped because he glanced up at me with wide green eyes, and he jumped from his chair. He left thirty minutes ago. “What are you…”

“I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry.” He gripped the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I hurt you.”

I blinked, unable to believe he was still here. He never left. “Why?—”

“I couldn’t leave without saying sorry to you.” He swallowed and approached me slowly. He still wore his tux from dinner, the material clinging to his strong frame. The tie was undone and loose, the image ridiculously attractive. Quentin was gorgeous, head to toe.

“It’s easier to push you away.” He stopped right when our toes touched, and his voice deepened and was thicker than normal. “I can’t offer you what you deserve, and I wish I could, truly. So the thought of spending Halloween with your family made me put up walls. You’re not gonna want to hang with me then. I’ll have pissed you off or upset you.”

“You don’t know that,” I fired back, hating the certainty on his face, like this future for us was set in stone. “You can’t assume that either.”

“It’s who I am.” He shrugged, and his green eyes darkened. “You have so much joy and life to live, and I don’t want to tarnish it. And hockey will always come first for me.”

“Do you know why I came out here?” I asked, my voice raspy. A flicker of anger heated inside my chest. “To call you to apologize.”

He scoffed. “Why would you need to apologize?”

I poked him in the chest, irritated that he always wanted to be the victim. “Because I kicked you out when you were nothing but helpful. It was immature of me. You hurt my feelings, and instead of addressing it, I shoved you away. I shouldn’t have done that.”

His jaw flexed as he stared down at me. “Logan, I?—”

“No, listen to me, my dude.” I poked him again. “You warned me tonight that dinner with your mom would make me view you differently. You told me all the signs, and you’re right—you do act differently around her. You’ve been different all night. Quiet, not pushing back. It’s almost like you think you deserve what happens to you. You’re not a victim, Quentin, so stop acting like you don’t deserve happiness. Tell your mom to piss off. When she talked about Audrey like that, I expected you to storm off. The Quentin I know and care for would’ve.”

His eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. “I hate who I am around her,” he whispered.

That admission felt important, like him saying those words was really hard for him. I took his hand and kissed the back of it. “Then why do you do that to yourself?”

“Because I’m always hoping that she goes back to the mom that raised me, back to the woman who danced with me in the rain, who cheered me on at every game, the mom who drove me to practice with the windows down and music blaring. The one who held me as I cried in the hospital after losing my dad. I miss that version of her, before my dad died, but she’s been gone for years.”

“Hope is dangerous, and it’s okay to wish for that version of her.” My throat swelled with emotion, like I swallowed cotton balls. “But it’s not okay to let her treat you that way or the people you love that way.”

Quentin’s eyes sparkled before he slammed his eyelids shut and stepped back. “Fuck. This is stupid. We’re here for you not for me.”

“Hey, what the hell do you think friends are for?” I teased, hoping it would lighten the mood. “Have you had a best friend before?”

He shook his head, his haunted eyes staring at me with the same intensity I’d grown used to.

“Jordan and I bicker all the time. We annoy each other, but we’re there for each other no matter what. When Gage hurt me, I was a hot mess, and Jordan did more as a friend. But when she broke her wrist a year ago, I was her bitch, feeding her soup while she moped. Relationships are give and take. You were there for me in every possible way tonight. Every way. Carly Jean is good now. But you’re hurting.”

“I shouldn’t be though. That’s the thing.”

“Are you the freaking hurt police? Why do you get to determine what upsets you or what doesn’t?” I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. It was awkward because he was so much taller than me, but I rested my head on his chest and breathed him in. “Do you want to come back to my parents’ house with me? My room is in the basement so we’ll be alone.”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and set his chin on top of my head, his entire body melting into mine. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I don’t know what this means, but after you left, all I wanted was to curl up next to you and have you hold me. It seems you need a little holding too, so I figured we could take turns being big and little spoon tonight.”

He chuckled like I wanted him to. That deep grumbly laugh went straight to my damn heart, taking a piece of it with him. I was definitely falling for Quentin Hawthorne, even though I knew I shouldn’t.

The reasons were endless, but my mom said it perfectly. The heart wants what it wants, and mine wanted him.

“Uh, are you sure I can be in your room?” Quentin stopped at my doorframe, his attention moving from my photos on the wall to my desk. “Your parents won’t care?”

I blushed, avoiding his gaze as I went to my dresser. “They don’t, really. They are super chill about this stuff. They used to let Gage stay in here with me all the time. Plus, it’s a mini-apartment down here.”

It was awesome having my own bedroom in the unfinished basement. We didn’t have a big house at all, but this space made me feel safe and like it was mine.

A deep, unsatisfied sound came from Quentin.

I found an old pair of shorts and tossed them on the bed. “Can you help me out of this dress? Jordan zipped it for me back at the house.”

“Does this mean you’re done wearing Gage’s fucking shirt?”

Snorting, I lifted the black tee off and set it on the chair. “I like baggy shirts. They are comfortable.”

“Find a different one then.” Quentin’s eyes seemed to glow as he stared at me. “Take any of mine. I don’t care.”

“Ooo, is someone jealous of Gage?” I teased, feeling bolder than normal. “Is my fake boyfriend, roommate, buddy jealous?”

He growled before he yanked me toward him. One hand held my hair, tugging it gently so my face tilted up toward him. The other gripped my ass. “Why torture me?”

“Because it’s fun?”

His dimples popped up before he placed a gentle kiss on my mouth. “This is your only warning, Log. If I see you wearing his shirt again, I’m going to rip it.”

I giggled and moved out of his grip. “I think you’re all talk, Hawthorne.” I spun around and wiggled my ass. “Can you unzip me now?”

He sucked in a breath as he carefully grabbed the zipper at the base of my back and pulled it down. The second he spied my lacy white panties, his grip tightened on me. “Fuck, these are so sexy, Logan.”

“I wore those for you. ” I glanced over my shoulder at him, my skin heating at the way his gaze took me in. His nostrils flared, and his cheek twitched. I held the dress up against my chest and moved toward my closet, letting the material fall away, leaving me in just panties.

Quentin turned to stone, his chest heaving as he eyed me up and down. I’d never felt so wanted or so alive, and maybe it was the wildness of the night, but I wanted to toy with him. “I’m getting ready for bed. Be back in a minute.”

I grabbed the soft sleep shorts and went to the bathroom connected to my room. I quickly removed my makeup, brushed my teeth, slid the shorts on, and put on Gage’s shirt.

I used to wear this shirt all the time when Gage and I started dating. It made me feel so special to wear his stuff. He loved seeing me in it and would take his time removing it. Yet the way Quentin looked at me was different. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive, and that was a totally new feeling.

“Okay, the bathroom is all yours.” I swallowed down nerves as I walked into my bedroom. Quentin sat in a white undershirt and boxers, his gaze zeroing in on Gage’s shirt.

“What did I tell you?”

“Oh, you made it clear. I just don’t care.” I shrugged, my body already heating in anticipation.

Quentin’s bulge grew between his legs as he stood, his jaw tight as he stalked toward me and grabbed the shirt in a fist. “I have a better idea.”

“Than ripping it up?”

He nodded. “Do you trust me?”

“Without question,” I replied.

His eyes softened at my response, but then they went dark again. “Instead of destroying his shirt, I’m gonna make you come over and over in it. Then, you’re going to give it back without washing it.’

“Quentin!” I blushed hard.

“It’s either that, or I shred it. Pick one.”

I gasped as Quentin lifted me onto my dresser and turned me around so we faced my mirror. He spread my legs apart so I could see the moisture pooling through my panties, and he slid his fingers into the side, parting me. Watching him tease me in the mirror added an element of heat I wasn’t used to. “Oh my.”

“What is it gonna be, baby?” He kissed the side of my neck. “I’m partial to the second option, but it’s your call.”

“Don’t rip it,” I said in a moan.

“Why? Because he matters to you?” he sucked my earlobe as he slid two fingers inside of me. In and out, slow and steady.

I arched my back, moaning at the pleasure. He removed his fingers and pinched my clit, the sensation causing me to buck against him.

“Answer me.” He ran his very wet finger up my stomach, teasing under my breasts before he wiped them on the shirt with a glint to his eyes. “I can do this all night, baby.”

“He doesn’t matter to me.”

“Good girl. Now let’s get this shirt filthy.”