Page 80 of It Had To Be Us

“You’re right, I’m not. And it’s a shame we didn’t think of it earlier because it would have been fun.”

“Look at you…the little bird is ready to fly.”

Huffing out a laugh, I shake my head in protest. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m not about to suggest paint play to the next guy that comes along, but I feel comfortable with you, more confident to try new things.” I internally cringe at my own words but keep my feelings to myself.

Logan’s face scrunches briefly before he recovers and pats me on the back. “Lucky I’m here to help.”

When we’ve tidied up the room and reset the easel, Logan walks me to my car, his mood returning to the playful one I know and love as he hip checks me before wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“So, that was a first for me too. Looks like we’re both stepping out of our comfort zones,” he says, causing me to laugh.

“What part specifically? Sex in an art room? Or on campus?”

“If the dorms count asoncampus,then we both know that’s happened before. It’s how we met.”

“Ooh, yes, totally counts,” I laugh. Who knew back then that I’d one day get to see him naked again…for me.

“Speaking ofcampus,” Logan says slowly. “Why were you here so late, and alone?”

Dammit.

“I help organize the Thursday night art functions, so I have a key to the space.”

Logan’s lips pull into an impressed smile, but then he shakes his head. “That didn’t answer my question.”

Nope, it did not.

“Ugh. This is not something I wanted to share with you.”

Stopping suddenly, Logan drops his arm from around me, and when I look his way, he’s staring at me with a furrowed brow and the hint of a frown. “Sure, okay. Sorry,” he says, shaking off his expression. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

My heart races as I go into panic mode. That’s not what I meant; he’s clearly offended but…shit.

Reaching out, I grab his hand but can’t look him directly in the eyes. “No, I didn’t mean that I didn’twantto share with you in general. I meant that it feels stupid sharingthiswith you,” I rush out. “I’ve been struggling since the funeral. Watching Liam,and you,go through that was hard on me emotionally. It brought back a lot of memories, and it hurt my heart.A lot.”And there's the custody situation to think about…

I finally look up at his face and see so much emotion staring back at me that my breath hitches. I’m not prepared for that look, and it’s making my heart ache even more. “I know this is so much worse for you,” I continue, trying to remain calm. “And I’m sorry to dump—”

He cuts me off by engulfing me in his arms, squeezing me tightly, and when I feel his lips on my head, I want to scream out.No, no, no, you can’t do that. You can’t make me feel things when this isn’t real. It can’t be real. Not right now. Please.

“My hurt doesn’t diminish yours,” he rasps, his mouth now close to my ear. “Everyone feels things differently, and it doesn’t mean that what I’m going through lessens your pain.”

My entire body tenses; it still doesn’t feel right. “Logan, your dad died. I just went to the funeral.”

Pulling back, Logan frames my face in his hands and stares directly into my eyes, his gaze hitting me in my soul. “Don’t ever be afraid to tell me how you feel. Because you may not have realized this yet, but I want to know. Everything. I will always want the chance to make it better. To make the hurt go away.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes as I officially lose control of my emotions. I was in a relationship for years, and he never once looked at me like Logan is now. Like he would die on his sword for me. But that’s not the scariest part. The scariest part is that I believe him. In this moment, I believe that he’d take a bullet for me. That he really would do anything to heal my pain. And that makes no sense.

Have I been wrong about him all this time?

“Logan, I—”

“It’s been a hell of a week, hasn’t it?” He cuts me off, and it’s not the first time he’s done that after our conversation starts getting too deep. I always thought it was because he felt bad for me, but now I have to wonder if it’s because he’s nervous about how I’ll react and isn’t ready for my rejection. Whatever it is, I need to find out.

“Logan—”

“Can we go somewhere? Listen to music, watch a movie. Or…” He trails off, convincing me that I might be right about the latter. And I’m not ready for this night to end either, but it’s late.

“The originalTop Gunis playing at the old town theater tomorrow night. I thought of you when I saw it advertised. We could meet there and see it.”

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