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Sailor
Isway to the music, the stranger’s strong arms holding me tightly against his body. I push away that nagging voice in my head that keeps telling me Logan has an explanation. That keeps telling me I’m making a huge mistake being here.
That voice can shut the fuck up.
Logan Decker is still married. Married. And I was sleeping with him. I had fallen for him again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? Well, you know how the saying goes.
“You want to get out of here?” my dance partner asks.
I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had since I arrived at Phoebe’s, but I’ve had enough to convince myself this is a good idea. That leaving with this guy will help me get over Logan. Help me forget all about him and the way he made me feel.
“Absolutely.”
“Let me pay my tab, and I’ll be right back.”
His stubble is rough against my cheek as he gives me a quick kiss. I stumble back a bit but manage to make my way off the dance floor to wait for him by the bar.
“I thought I might find you here. Can we talk?”
I look over my shoulder and see Logan standing there. I turn around on the barstool and cross my arms over my chest.
“What’s to talk about? Your wife is in town.”
“I thought everything was final. That it had been taken care of.”
I laugh. “And I’m supposed to believe that? You chose her before.”
He comes to me, placing his hands on my thighs. “I am not choosing her this time, Sailor. I choose you. I swear it, we are getting divorced.”
“You are a liar, Logan. You always have been,” I say, pushing off the stool and brushing past him. “Go home to your wife and son.”
The stranger I plan to spend the night with throws his arm over my shoulder, and together, we walk out. I don’t look back to see if Logan is chasing after me. He won’t do that. He’ll let me go because that’s what he does.
“Tell you what,” I say, slipping out from beneath the guy’s arm. “Let’s do this another time.”
The guy frowns, ready to protest, but then shrugs and heads back inside to no doubt find another willing woman to share his bed tonight. I contemplate whether I made the right decision as I go to my vehicle. I fumble with my keys, trying to unlock my door when they’re snatched from my grasp.
“What the ?”
“You are not driving in your condition,” Logan says firmly, grabbing me by the arm.
I fight against him as he pulls me toward his truck until he finally throws me over his damn shoulder like a caveman. Is it awful that I’m turned on? Damn him.
“Screw you!” I scream, flailing my arms and legs to no avail.
He tosses me down onto his passenger seat and slams the door. When he gets in, his jaw is clenched tight, anger radiating off of him.
“I can get myself home.”
“Can you? With who, Sailor? That scumbag you just met?”
“You do not get to judge me! You are a married man!”
“And you’re scared!” he yells back, stunning me into silence. “You are so fucking scared of being with me that you’re using that as a damn excuse! You’re looking for a reason to end things!”
“I’m not scared!” I argue, although I know it’s true.
I am terrified of what’s happening between us. This connection we have is more than what we had before. Stronger. Different. I told myself I could handle it, give it a shot, but I can’t. I’ve been pushing this fear aside, convincing myself that there’s nothing to be afraid of, but this shadow of a doubt is always there. When Jolene showed up tonight, that shadow engulfed me.
“Then, why can’t you tell me you love me?” he asks, pulling up at my place.
Logan told me he loved me the night we were in his truck. Those three words were on my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them out loud. Couldn’t seem to admit that I feel the same way.
“Because I knew you would destroy me,” I answer as I get out of his truck. “Again.”
