Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5) (28 page)

TAYLOR

Logan led me upstairs to his room a few minutes later. It was just Logan and me now. As soon as we were inside and the door closed behind us, he pulled me in for a hug. “Are you okay?”

I burrowed into him, my head resting against his chest, and I breathed in his strength. I held on to him as tightly as he held me.

I nodded, but I couldn’t talk. My throat wasn’t working.

His chest loosened suddenly, as if a ball of tension had been released. He cradled the back of my head and held me close. We just stood, relishing the feel of each other’s arms. I didn’t want to pull back, but after a few minutes, Logan slowly peeled himself away. He groaned and dipped down to press his lips to mine.

I gasped. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that touch from him. It gave me strength and assurance all at once. I pressed against him, never wanting the kiss to end.

“Fuck it,” he groaned against my lips. He grasped my waist and lifted me.

No more words were shared that night. Only touching, caressing, loving.

He carried me to his bed, and we undressed each other. As he lifted my shirt, I pulled his off. My bra unclasped at the same time I undid his jeans. I pulled them off, and he started on my pants. I was soon naked, panting, and ready for him. He paused just above me, the condom on, and looked down into me.

That moment. That look.

I knew it was coming, and my heart had clamored for it. It was the moment when I saw into him, past all his walls, shields, jokes, and the facade he wore for most people. He shed it for me, and as I closed my eyes, feeling him enter me, I knew this was the real Logan.

He was giving himself to me.

SHITSTORM

TAYLOR

“You and Logan Kade?”

I was letting myself inside my house the next morning when Jason materialized in the hallway, already inside. I looked up, my keys still in the door, and shook my head. “Like you’re one to preach.” Last night’s events came rushing back to me, and I yanked the keys out, slamming the door behind me. “That was a shitstorm, Jason.”

His scowl lessened a notch as he shoved his hands into his pockets and slouched down. “I know I’m screwed. You don’t have to remind me.”

“I told you to come here to regroup, figure out your next move. Not to think about how pissed you are at my choice of bedmate.”

“Speaking of bedmate.” He tapped his wrist where a watch would’ve been. “It’s nine in the morning. You stayed with him?”

“Yes.” I leveled him with a hard look. “And piss off again if you’re climbing on that pedestal. That ship has sailed. It’s left the dock, and anything you’re riding right now that gives you the
audacity
to lecture me, you’re flat-out wrong.”

And I was done with this conversation. Brushing past him, I went to my room. He didn’t follow, not that I expected him to. I was almost to the point where I didn’t give a crap what he did. Almost. But as I tossed my stuff on the bed, I knew that wasn’t true. I did care. I cared a lot.

When I came back from the shower, dressed for the day, Jason had made coffee. He extended a cup to me when I came into the kitchen. “Peace offering?”

I took it. “This doesn’t get you off the hook.”

“I know.”

He was less growly than before, and the knot inside of me loosened. I reached for the bread, but he waved me off. “Go sit,” he said. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You will?”

He opened the fridge and pulled out a container. Lifting the lid, he showed me a pile of eggs. “I’ll make you some of these.”

“You made me coffee, and you’re going to make me breakfast?”

“Yes, and don’t clench your butt cheeks about it. Sit. Let me do this for you, okay?”

“Because of last night?”

He turned on the stove and waved a fork at me. “Listen, I never asked you and your boyfriend to save me.”

I opened my mouth, but he lifted the fork higher and spoke over me. “But I’d probably be dead if you hadn’t, so thank you. And yes, this is because of last night. Let me appease my guilt in some way.”

I grinned, feeling more of the tension inside of me leaving. If Jason weren’t too worked up about last night, I wouldn’t be either. I needed to follow his lead.

As he made me toast, scrambled the eggs, and poured me a second cup of coffee, we relaxed enough to laugh a little. He sat across from me with his own plate filled with eggs and toast.

I pointed to it. “We need bacon.”

He closed his eyes. “That would be heavenly.” His eyes flicked open, and he pointed his knife at me. ”That’s on you. Your dad’s been slacking on the domestic duties. If you want food, you gotta do the shopping.”

I glared, but it didn’t have any heat behind it. Snatching his knife, I put it beside my plate. “That’s enough of you waving utensils at me, and I
do
do the shopping. I’ve been busy lately.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Busy getting boned by Logan Kade.”

I wanted to groan, but I held it in. Here it was. I knew he’d bring up Logan again. “Okay.” I sat back, pushed my plate away, and nodded. “Go for it. Have your say right now.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I have the floor?”

“You have the floor.” I held up a finger. “This one time.” Then it was my turn.

His lips pressed into a disapproving line before he sighed. “You’re so frustrating, you know? It’s Logan Kade, Taylor. What are you doing with him?”

“Feeling.”

Whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat. His mouth closed, and he gave me a wondering look. “What?”

I wasn’t going to bullshit this away. He deserved the truth. “I’m
feeling
with him. I’m alive again. I want to do things, like go up to the top of stupid roller coasters and look out over the city. I want to do things like that with him because they make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”

He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t care. I kept going.

“Yes, I’m having sex with him. Yes, I’m falling for him. And yes, I know he’s going to hurt me.”

But I was too far gone to care. Logan had already given me more than he could take away. A wave of thankfulness rose in me. “I lost my mom. My high school sweetheart—the guy I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life—abandoned me in the worst possible way. My dad’s body is here, but not him. He went away, too. Logan Kade’s been the first one who made me feel something other than sadness, emptiness, and loneliness no one should ever have to feel.”

“Taylor.” Jason reached over the table and rested his hand on mine. “I’m so sorry. You never said anything.”

“Because I couldn’t.” I squeezed his hand. “I didn’t have the strength to talk about it, much less let myself feel any of that.”

“I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know…” He fell silent. He looked down to his plate. “I’m so sorry.”

I felt the familiar feeling of tears coming and coughed. A person could only cry so many times. “What are you going to do now?” I asked instead. “After last night.”

Jason withdrew his hand and straightened in his seat. An expression flashed over his face, but it was gone instantly. I couldn’t place it, but it left an uneasy feeling. I pushed that aside and waited for his response.

His voice was low and wary. “I don’t know.”

“Jason.”

“Honestly.” He looked up at me, his eyes unusually focused and clear.

I swallowed. That uneasy feeling bounced inside of me again. It wasn’t going away.

“Thank you for letting me come here last night,” he said, his voice raw. “I know Logan would’ve pounded on me if I’d stuck around, and he still will.” A warning flared in his eyes. “If he finds me, he’ll threaten me to stay away from you.”

“But you’re not going to do that.”

He stared at me.

A nervous feeling fluttered in my stomach. “Right?”

“Look...” He cleared his throat. Leaning forward, his hands gripped his silverware—a knife in one hand and a fork in the other. He started talking, but I couldn’t look away from his hands. His voice drifted in from a distance. His knuckles turned white. They were the only thing I could focus on. My nerves crawled up my throat. They were going to choke me.

“...okay?”

I looked up to him, tearing my gaze away from his hands. “What?”

“I’m going to make this right. With Rankin. I will. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“I really will. I mean it.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I know you will.”

“So when your boyfriend wants to know where I am, you can tell him that: I’m going to make things right, and Rankin will never know your name. I promise.” He spoke with vehemence.

“Okay.” Jason loved me; he had since seventh grade. “You didn’t put us in that situation last night. It just happened that we were there. I know that. You’d never hurt me.”

“Never!” His hands squeezed the utensils again.

“I know.” I reached forward and eased the knife and fork out of his hands. “But these guys, I’m not so sure.” I cracked a grin. “They were my mom’s. I can’t let you harm the cutlery.”

He stared at his hands, as if he hadn’t realized he had the utensils in a death grip. A second later, he laughed. It was abrupt, as if he’d surprised himself with it, too. A second laugh, this one smoother, slid out and then a third. The last one finally sounded genuine, and some of my uneasiness uncoiled.

Good. I smiled back at him. Nothing to worry about, right? I wasn’t completely sure. I still didn’t really understand what he’d gotten mixed up in. And I didn’t want to know.

REAL VS. PUBLIC

TAYLOR

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

I was sitting in my sociology class when that question came from the aisle next to my seat. I automatically thought it was Jason, but when I saw it was Logan, my retort died in my throat. “What are you doing here?”

He smirked down at me before sinking into the chair beside me. “
Tsk tsk
, Taylor.” He waved a finger. “The real question is why did it take me so long to properly stalk you? Duh. I can’t stalk the chick I’m sleeping with if I’m in a different sociology class. That’s Creeping 101.”

I played along. “Oh, yeah. What took you so long?”

His head bobbed. “I’m not on my A game. It took me way too long to catch up.” He patted my leg. “I sincerely apologize for that.”

I laughed as his hand went quickly from patting to groping, I moved it back to his lap. “If you’re a creeper, that went into the stalker zone.”

He wagged his eyebrows at me. “I can be a stalker. Any day. Any time. Any…” His gaze fell to my lips. “…position.”

I shook my head. Last night he’d been setting cars on fire, driving like a maniac, and punching someone for me. Fast forward through an intense hour back at his house and a night of slow and delicious sex, and now he was hitting on me like nothing happened?

I pointed my pen at him. “You give me whiplash sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Last night. I mean, it was…”

His eyes darkened in a sensual way. I felt an ache between my legs as he pointed to his face. “This is Public Face Logan,” he said. “I’m all smiles, jokes, and innuendos. You saw Real Face Logan last night.”