Irreplaceable (14 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Birthday Ultimatums

Ringing shook through my head. I
swatted my arm at nothing and rolled my head to the other side, but it didn’t
stop. Instead, it seemed to only grow louder and clearer as my eyes flickered open,
adjusting to the darkness. The only light was from the glow illuminating my
nightstand. The ringing stopped and I closed my eyes again, relaxing back into
the mattress, when the annoying chirping started again.

“Hello?” I croaked, pressing the phone to my ear, still
in a sleepy daze.

“About time!”

“Hilary?” My voice cracked, riddled with exhaustion.
“What time is it?”

“Nine thirty. Did I wake you?”

I swallowed, clearing the dryness in my throat. “Mm-hmm.”
My hand wiped away the sleep in my eyes.

“The fact that you’re sleeping at this hour on a Saturday
night is another issue we need to discuss, but right now you need to come down
to Haven.”

The nerves in her voice crawled under my skin. I made a
face, pulling myself up and resting against the headboard. “Why, is everything
all right?”

“No, now hurry up and get down here!”

The line went dead, and I knew if I didn’t get dressed
and drag myself down there, she’d only keep calling.

“This better be important!” I
complained the moment I stepped inside the bustling restaurant, with Hilary
waiting at the door.

She looked nervous.

“I didn’t know who else to call, and Caleb agreed you
were the best person.”

Best person for what?
I gave her a pointed look.

“Don’t be mad, please.” She stepped aside with a tense shrug,
revealing the view of the bar and the back of a hard body I recognized
instantly.

Logan.

This had to be a joke. Was it some ridiculous attempt to
lure me out on a Saturday night? The fact that it was his birthday, as well,
didn’t go unnoticed. Whatever he was playing at tonight wasn’t working.

“You have thirty seconds to explain why you called me.”

“He’s been drinking, and…” Hilary sighed, her hopeful
eyes imploring me to care. “And he needs a friend.”

“Great, glad Caleb’s here.” I turned on my heel to leave.

Hilary grabbed my arm. “What am I supposed to do? He
won’t talk to Caleb or me. He’s just been sitting there knocking back drinks,
looking miserable with a busted hand.”

“Busted hand?”

“Yeah, I gave him a clean rag, but he wouldn’t let me
near it. Said he deserved worse.”

Deserved worse?
For crying out loud, it was his
birthday. Why the hell was he down at the bar drinking himself into a
self-deprecating hangover?

“Fine, but next time, call Julia or Jax.”

“I did. Julia told me to call you.”

I huffed out a half chuckle, half sigh. Of course she
did. When was that girl going to realize I wasn’t dating her brother, and
therefore wasn’t responsible for him?

The moment I slipped off my coat, Hilary relaxed. I
handed it to her, straightening my shoulders as I headed over.

“What are you up to, birthday boy?” I asked with sarcasm
heavy in my tone, slinging my leg over the stool beside him.

He didn’t bother to spare me a glance. “Having a drink.
What about you?”

I noticed his hand resting on the bar, knuckles
splintered and raw, dried blood covering the wounds.

“Well, I
was
enjoying a pleasant night’s rest till
I was called down here to talk you out of drinking yourself into a stupor. Come
on, I’ll drive you home.”

“You shouldn’t be here, driving at this hour with the
weather outside. It was a waste of your time, and you could have gotten
hurt...again. Go home. I’ll have someone escort you to make sure you make it
there safely.”

“I don’t need an
escort
anywhere!” I snapped.

Still looking ahead, he sighed. “Good night, Cassandra.
Go back to your warm bed.”

Logan lifted his finger to the bartender for another
drink, but the moment the old man set down the filled shot glass, I shook my
head slowly, spelling it out with my menacing scowl that Logan would be having
no more. He took the hint, backing up with a single nod.

“I’m cutting you off and taking you home.”

The deep, throaty chuckle he let out washed over me,
further alerting me to what I was dealing with—especially when he angled his
dropped head just enough to catch my gaze.

After a long pause, he spoke. “You look stunning
tonight…but then again, you always do.”

I rolled my eyes. The oversized pale pink button-down I
wore had been my pajamas for the night, and was matched with a pair of jeans I
tugged out of my dresser drawer in the dark and hopped into. Nothing stunning
about it.

Before I could scoff in his face, his body leaned into
mine, nose nuzzling my hair.

“And you smell so…sweet.”

My breath caught. I was going to need a drink. I threw up
my hand to the bartender and when he looked my way, I called out, “I’ll have
what he had.”

The bartender nodded, and I looked back at Logan.

“Not exactly sure you can handle that, sweetheart.”

“You have no idea what I can handle.”

His gaze bore into mine, searching the double meaning in
my words. I was the first to break the stare, reaching out and grabbing his
bloodied hand.

“What happened?”

“Life happened. My life,” he answered, staring down at
the wound cradled in my palm.

“You might need stitches.”

“I won’t. It’s not that deep.”

“You should at least clean it up. A few bandages will
help.”

He pulled his hand away, irritation heavy in his posture.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the rag sitting on the other side of him. It
must’ve been the one Hilary brought. I pushed off the stool and stretched over
the bar in front of him. His breath tickled my ear as I snatched the towel
quickly and fell back in my seat.

“We need to at least clean the blood off.”

The bartender set down a shot glass and filled it with an
amber liquid. “A water too—no ice,” I said, examining Logan’s busted knuckles.

I picked up the glass with my free hand and tipped it
back. My tongue shot out as the liquor burned its way down my throat and warmed
my stomach. My face pinched, and I tried to shake it off.

“I warned you. Not your type of drink.” Logan chuckled.

My mouth was still complaining when Logan took the shot
glass and downed the remainder of the liquor. With a smug grin, he set it back
down. The bartender interrupted our challenging stare when he set a mug filled
with tap water in front of me.

I didn’t say a word, and instead dunked a side of the
towel into it and let the water drip over Logan’s wounds before carefully
wiping away the traces of his obviously unpleasant night. He sat there watching
me, with eyes I couldn’t look up at as I tended to his care.

“So, seriously, what happened?” I prompted, finding the
knuckles nearly shredded. “It’s your birthday. You were supposed to be
celebrating.”

“Why didn’t you come? Julia told me she invited you.”

“Answer my question first.” I peered up for just a moment
and watched his frown deepen.

“Oliver wanted Natasha to come, and I didn’t want to
disappoint him.” He stopped, gazing down at the bar.

“And…”

“And she came. Oliver was happy, hooked onto her every word,
following her around the entire time. She even read him a story and tucked him
into bed.”

Wow, not how I pictured Natasha at all. Maybe I really
did misjudge her.

“So what’s the problem?”

“She then made her way into my bedroom, undressed, and
climbed into bed.”

I blanched, gripping his hand more tightly than I
realized, gaping at him.

“O-oh,” I mumbled. Why was I suddenly feeling
shell-shocked?

The wince on his face caught my attention, and I released
his hand from my death grip. “Shit, sorry.”

He chuckled to himself. “You know, I think that’s the
first swear word I’ve heard slip from your lovely mouth.”

Flushed, I focused back on his hand attentively, wiping
the cloth over it one final time.

“All cleaned up. You sure you don’t want me to ask Caleb
for the first-aid kit? It’s not a problem, and you really need to keep the
cuts—”

His pointer finger shot out and landed on my lips,
silencing me.

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

I nodded, unable to speak over the jealous wave crushing
my chest. His finger trailed over my bottom lip until it reached the corner of
my mouth and dropped away.

“I came in, found her there, and demanded that she get
out. Unfortunately, she refused, and then informed me that she was moving in.
Explained how she already told Oliver the wonderful news, and unless I wanted
him to hate me for kicking her out on the streets, I had to give her a chance
and come to bed.” His words turned into an angry hiss, his back teeth grinding
together.

Wow, Natasha had some gall. He slowly craned his neck
back to face me.

“I don’t respond well to threats, and I especially don’t
allow someone I despise to tell me what to do,” he continued, jaw clenched.
“The moment my fist went through the wall, Natasha was out of bed and already
threatening to yell for Oliver, so I left. Called Julia to come stay the night
there and came down here for a drink.”

Holy hell, the woman was crazy.

“So what now? She’s really moving in?”

I thought about Natasha living in the same house as
Logan, using Oliver.
But for what? What was she up to?

“Let’s not talk about her again. Not tonight,” he said.

I was staring down at his hand in thought when he
interrupted my troubled mind.

“I think a kiss will help more than a bandage.”

“You wish!” I laughed and slapped his forearm playfully, earning
me a wry chuckle and lightening the direction the mood was heading in. I
propped my elbow on top of the bar, resting my cheek on my hand.

I was no longer his friend, and even though I felt for
his situation and for Oliver, it wasn’t any of my business. As a friendly
neighbor, I didn’t owe him anything except perhaps one more offer to drive him
home, and then I’d be gone.

“I thought a good nurse was eager to please her patient,”
he teased.

I scoffed and glanced down at the bar before looking back
up seconds later.

“Seriously, do you want a ride home or not? You’re drunk,
and I’m not really in the mood for games.”

“Games,” he mimicked with a thick, disheartening snicker.
Something in his mood shifted back to that dark place I’d walked in on
originally as he repeated the word again to himself. “Games. I’ve always loved
a good game.” His head dipped to the side, tired, hooded eyes locking with
mine. “You were the best and worst game I ever played.”

My heart pounded against my chest; the pain was unbearable.
Finally, he could admit it. I was nothing but a game. A challenge.

He looked straight ahead again, staring blankly at the
rows of bottles perched on the wall ahead of us. His voice came out a rough
murmur.

“But then I lost. Not the first time I’ve lost something,
but you…” He looked back at me, voice growing, eyes searching mine. “You took
more than anyone before. You took a piece of me I can’t get back—I don’t want
back. I only want you, and you…you can hardly even look at me anymore.”

What could I say to that? I couldn’t find the words, and
it took all my strength to break our shared gaze.

He chuckled again. “I’m not drunk, Cassandra. There’s not
enough alcohol in the world to get me drunk enough to forget what I had with
you. What we almost had together.” His lips molded into an angry frown. I
watched as he spoke, heat rising through me as he laid his deepest fears on the
table.

“I almost killed you. I let that bitch get in my head,
and it was you who suffered for it. I’m such a piece of shit—an unworthy
bastard—and yet I still tried to win you back, wanting to convince you that I
could be better, be what you need. But I can’t. I’m no good for anyone, and
especially not you. You’re an angel, and you deserve so much more.”

Logan gripped the shot glass that sat untouched in front
of him and tipped it back, closing his eyes as the liquid worked its way into
his system, then slammed it back down.

“Logan, you’re a good guy. I never would have gotten
close to you to begin with if you weren’t. I wish things had been different
between us, I’m not going to lie—you know what you meant to me, you had to have
seen how much I wanted you—but I can’t forget what happened. The way you made
me feel in that alley...I’ve never felt so cheap.” I sighed, twisting my palm
over my chin to rub my tired eyes. “Maybe this is for the best. You would have
grown bored with me and eventually wanted to move back to the city once Julia
graduated. We never would have lasted.”

His jaw clenched. “You really believe that?”