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“Logan.” I rush toward him, then stop short.
The dark circles and dullness of his skin make my heart heavy. He’s under so much stress. I want to reach for him. But I can’t move.
His eyes roam over my face before he smiles softly. “You look beautiful.”
“It’s not… We’re—”
“You don’t have to explain, Mads. I get it.” His tired eyes crease at the corners.
“Oh.”
My throat burns. Does the idea of me being on a date with Nate not bother him? I search his green eyes for answers, but the swell of emotion in my chest that looking into them evokes becomes overwhelming, and I drop my gaze to his tie instead. He’s wearing a light gray suit and silver tie tonight. It doesn’t matter what color it is; he always looks good. Confident and in control. Ready to take on the world. Even if his eyes tell a different story tonight. One of late meetings, lack of sleep, and immense pressure at trying to save something so dear to him and his family.
“Who are you here with?”
“My parents, and Gabrielle and her father.”
“Oh.”
“Are you happy?” He steps closer and my lips part as heat flares across the back of my neck.
“What do you mean?”
His eyes darken as his voice lowers. “Do you feel like you can’t breathe when you look at him?”
“W-what?”
“Does he make you smile? In here?” He brushes the warm pads of his fingers over my bare skin, above the low neckline of my dress, directly above my heart.
I shiver.
“That’s what you do to me.” His gaze intensifies until it’s blinding, pinning me in place.
“Logan—”
“No, Mads. Let me say it.” He steps closer, lifting his hand to my chin and tilting it up between his thumb and forefinger until our lips are inches apart. His breath dusts mine as he parts his lips. “You need to fucking hear it,” he whispers.
“I can’t,” I choke.
I haven’t seen him in days, and it’s done nothing to lessen my pull to him. But what good will giving in do? I was never meant to be with him, and he was never meant to be with me. It’s not our path. Recent events have proved that. We were doomed before we began.
He searches my eyes for something. Something I can’t give him. So I fight to keep it locked away inside. Where it can’t cause harm.
He slides his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes tracking its movement, and I suck in a sharp breath, goosebumps scattering up my spine. It would be so easy to sink into him. To be selfish.
“I—”
“Tell me about work,” I say, using all my strength to step back, breaking contact with him.
Tell me you’ve found a way. Tell me it’s all going to be okay.
Something flashes in his eyes, making my gut churn in regret. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.
“I’m working on Spencer.” He runs a hand down his chin, his shoulders dropping.
It tells me all I need to know.He’s getting nowhere.
I swallow the aching lump in my throat as he continues.
