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I groan. “Why? I’m gonna need one of those flashy things from Men in Black after that question,” I argue.
Her full-belly laughter makes me smile. “Just teasing you. Anyway, I hope you really consider telling him how you feel. I think you’d be surprised by his response.”
I nod, choking back another wave of emotion. “I try not to compare them,” I start, shaking my head.
“Good, because they’re not the same. Curtis was a decent guy, but not the one for you. His priority was work, and for some, that’s fine. If he would have chosen work over your plans with him every now and again, that was one thing. But he did it all the time. You were constantly disappointed because you were second to him, and you deserve someone who puts you first.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, fingering the pink nightgown as it hangs on the rack. “I sometimes, you know, wonder if it was me. Am I high maintenance?”
Blair snorts. “Are you kidding me? Shay Johnson is high maintenance. You are far from it.” She gives me her complete attention. “Listen, I know I’ve said this before, but what happened with Curtis wasn’t your fault. You wanted different things. Your brother is an example of a man who knows how to commit to his work but can still put me first. Yes, he has to leave at times for patients, but he always makes me feel loved and cherished the moment he’s back, and I do the same.
“Now, Logan? From what I can tell, he’s a Gabe. When you’re around, you’re all he sees. Did he make you feel cherished when you were together?”
I don’t have to think back over the last few months. I already know the answers. “Yes.”
“There you go.” She pulls a bra and panty set off a rack.
Looking at our time together, he just felt…different. But, if I’m being honest, he’s always been different. Even when we were just friends—or friends who bickered and tried not to kill each other every time we were together. The truth is, a big part of our relationship was built on friendship, and while I’m afraid to lose that, I know Blair is right. If I don’t take the risk and tell Logan how I really feel, I’ll always wonder what could have been.
And I’ve never been one to back down, so why start now?
With a smile, I feel a wave of anticipation sweep through me. I don’t know when I’m going to talk to him, but it’ll be soon. Maybe I can invite him over for dinner soon and tell him then.
When Rose returns to see if we need any more assistance, I pull the nightgown off the rack once more and hand it over. “I’ll take this.”
She smiles widely and nods. “Excellent choice.”
The decision to buy the nightgown was for myself more than it was for Logan. I don’t know how things will play out for us, but I know if I don’t risk anything, I’ll risk losing everything.
And something tells me, what I could have with Logan will be just that.
Everything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Logan
I’m so fucking miserable.
She’s been gone a single night, and I’m in agony. My heart just fucking hurts.
That’s my fault too. I was too chickenshit to tell her how I feel, but she threw me off when she told me she was leaving and already had her bags packed. I wasn’t expecting that to be her surprise. Then she said it was the right decision for her, and there was no way I could tell her then and ask her to stay.
Even if I really wanted to.
Last night, I slept for shit. My bed, while comfortable, was anything but when it came down to sleeping alone. I’ve gotten used to having Hallie there, in my arms, and my God, do I miss that. So much so the thought of crawling into that bed again tonight brings a sense of dread.
Maybe I’ll just crash on the couch.
The sun has long set, the only light on in the house is in the kitchen. Hell, even the TV isn’t on. Usually, I can find a basketball or football game for background noise, but tonight, even that doesn’t sound appealing. It’s as if I’m destined to be surrounded by solitude and silence.
A loud knock hits the back door just as it’s pressed open. “Knock, knock,” TD hollers as he steps inside.
“Hey.” Pulling two beers from my fridge, I ignore the fact the beer is about the only thing left in there and hand one over to him.
“Jesus, what’s that smell?” he asks, making a face.
I shrug, opening my beer and taking a long pull. “No clue.”
