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He finally breaks the silence, his voice low but gruff. “Beth, look at me.”
His eyes, always heated and understanding, warm the chill that has seeped into my bones. It’s in his gaze, he holds me captive.
“You didn’t fail her. You did everything you could to protect her, and you still do. Don’t ever doubt that.”
His words chip away at the icy fortress of guilt I’ve built around myself, warming the numb parts of my soul.
“You’re doing good.”
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. A silent acknowledgement of the painful yet necessary truth he’s making me face. A meek smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, the first one since Hannah’s nightmare.
Thirty-Four
Ihad a dream about Logan.
In the dream, Logan was seated on his porch. His inked arms rested on either side of the chair, his confident posture drawing me in like a moth to a flame.
I boldly strode over, dream-me untethered by real-life inhibitions. His penetrating gaze traced my every move, the intensity of it setting my skin aflame. I slid onto the seat beside him, our bodies only inches apart.
He reached out, his large hand swallowing my smaller one. His touch was a lit match, igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume me whole. His scent, a heady mixture of musk and outdoors, invaded my senses, leaving me dizzy.
Suddenly, he was pulling me closer. His warm breath fanned across my face, his eyes locked onto mine with a look of raw desire that mirrored my own. His free hand traced the line of my jaw, his fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me in.
The kiss was seismic. It was heat and want, passion and intensity. His lips moved over mine, tasting of temptation and unspoken promises. He explored my mouth, each stroke of his tongue eliciting a moan from me.
In the dream, his hands roamed freely, touching places that had been starved of affection for far too long. His hands slipped under my shirt, his touch branding my skin as he traced my ribs, then lower, till his fingers rested at the hem of my jeans.
The dream Logan was a man unleashed. His eyes were dark as he whispered my name, his voice husky and laced with an insatiable need.
But then, the dream shifted. The warmth of Logan's touch disappeared, replaced by the cold reality of my loneliness. The remnants of the dream, the fiery memory of his touch and taste, lingered in my senses, reminding me of what I was desperately yearning for. It was a harsh awakening from the intense connection, leaving me wanting, craving for a reality where that connection was more than just in my head.
It’s been a week, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
A week of obsessing about my neighbor.
A man asked me out today. The first man in ten years, and I’ve hardly thought about it because my mind is flooded with Logan’s calloused hand on my inner thigh. A touch that never even happened.
I knew it. The second I woke in a cold sweat, I knew I was done for.
I haven’t felt anything for a man, in well, a really long time. It’s pathetic. I haven’t even been able to touch myself, but there was no ignoring the distinctive throb between my legs after I woke.
I’m not dead inside after all.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been reading nothing but the smuttiest books since then. I’m going through them like I can rip the answers from the pages, but all they leave me with it is a wetness between my legs and more dreams of a tattooed neighbor hovering over me.
I glance at the bookmarked page on the table. “You’re not helping,” I mutter to the book like it can answer me back.
I’m losing it.
A simple dream and all those feelings I thought were gone erupted in me until I could hardly catch my breath.
“Walls, Beth,” I whisper to myself, dicing carrots smaller than I need them.
I’m an expert at building walls. I swore off men. I’m good at shutting things down. I did it just today when Ace asked me out on a date again during my shift at the café.
I did it while trying not to stutter and burning up from the inside out. I’m not denying it felt good to be wanted by someone, but it hit me with the force of an arctic truck—I wanted that someone to be Logan.
Ace was a sweetheart about it.
