Page 53 of Life After You

I let out a frustrated sigh, the frustration gnawing at me from the inside out. So much to say, that I could say… but fucking nope.

It’s fine. It’s probably for the best, right?

Maybe we could hang out after the tour. It’ll be stress-free. Right? Just... us.

But no. No, it doesn’t work that way.

Maybe I should go to him. Go up to him and tell him everything I’ve been holding in. Tell him how I feel about him. How I’ve always felt about him. Maybe I should talk to the guys, see what they think?

I want to shout. I want to scream until my throat is raw, stamp my feet, just release it all. I want to cry into the darkness, let it all slip away.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

Whatever.

Whatever, Mac. Get a fucking grip.

Logan’s probably already gone to bed anyway.

And then I see him.

Logan.

He’s standing by the stairs, his back to me, one hand gripping the banister like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, a heavy rhythm I feel in my chest, like his every exhale is somehow tethered to me.

I don’t say a word.

I don’t have to.

Slowly—so fucking slowly—he turns his head, just enough for me to catch the sharp line of his jaw, the faintest flicker of something dark in his eyes that feels like a warning.

My stomach drops.

Every part of me knows.

Knows what’s about to happen.

His tongue drags out, slow and deliberate, over his bottom lip, and my body reacts before my mind can keep up.

"Fuck it."

My breath catches.

He moves toward me, each step unhurried, like he’s in no rush to get where we both know we’re going. And yet, each step feelslike it’s stretching the seconds between us, thick and weighted with everything we’ve been too scared to say.

Everything we’ve never forgotten.

Everything that’s been burning between us.

And then his hands are on me.

A firm grip on my waist. A rough slide up my back. A fist tangling in my hair. I barely have time to gasp before my back is pressed against the door, the wood cool against my overheated skin.

And then Logan’s mouth crashes onto mine.

It’s not soft.

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