Page 14 of My Forbidden Mountain Man

Have I been wanting to get touched by Logan the moment I fell under that heated gaze of his?Of course.Did I expect to feel anything outside of the satisfaction of release?

No way in hell.

So, why is my stomach clenching up like I ate something bad? It’s as if something is crashing around in there. I think it’s my heart that’s creating such a ruckus. My poor stomach is getting assaulted by what I can assume is butterflies.

Butterflies.

Logan gives me the space I need to figure out these new feelings. I’ve never been so jerked around by someone before. I don’t even know what to call this. There’s no way this is love. It can’t be. I barely know the guy.

It can’t be love.

I slump over the table, my sigh muffled against my palms. Today, I didn’t follow him. Didn’t let myself fall into step beside him like some lovesick shadow, even though my body ached for it—for the dizzying replay of last time.

Just the memory of his nearness is enough to send heat skittering under my skin, and God, that’s the worst part. I’m a grown woman, not some flustered kid hiding behind her hair at the mere brush of a boy’s hand. But here I am, heart thudding like a damn drumline, all because a man exists within breathing distance.

Pathetic.

I press my forehead harder into my hands, as if I could crush the longing out of my skull. It doesn’t work. Nothing does.

It’s the vibration of my phone that gives me a little relief from the complications going on in my head. That is, until I seewhymy phone has gone off.

Thanks to the signal up here, it takes some time to get messages. So, when I see Noah’s name on the screen, the butterflies fluttering suddenly feel heavy. As our manager, I should’ve expected a word from him before anyone else.

Jeremy is an idiot who does not call the shots. Please tell me you’re alright. Violet? Call me so we can get this figured out.

A row of messages all come in at once, each one making my stomach feel heavier and heavier than the last.

Candice won’t last. They’re already fighting over the spotlight. Trent wants you back, too.

While I know this is what I wanted, why am I not rushing to pump my fist in the air and ready to do a celebratory dance? This is big. I can feel the regret behind each message.

Is it because Jeremy isn’t the one asking me to come back?

Flipping the phone over, I sigh into my hands once more before standing. Slipping into my room momentarily, I grab my guitar case and make my way outside.

Needing to release some of this pent-up anxiety that’s building more and more by the second, I already start feeling better as I open up the case to reveal my acoustic guitar. It’s the OG piece I’ve refused to replace. While the strings are new, the shell of the guitar is worn down to the bare bones.

Settling on the edge of the porch, I strum my fingers against the strings. Creating a melodic tune that pushes away the thoughts in my head, relief starts to creep in.

For just a few minutes, I’d like to stop thinking about my complex feelings for Logan and the opportunity to return to my old life.

As I play one of our newest songs, I snort at the familiarity of what I’m doing.

My mother got me this guitar when I was fourteen years old. It was her way of keeping me busy with a hobby. Quickly, I learned that if I played loud enough, I could drown out everything.

Her fights with whatever male had her attention. The stress that came with puberty. All of the above, actually.

Right now, there’s nothing to drown out. The mountain is quiet, it always is.I’mthe one who is disturbing the peace. Thankfully, I don’t think Logan has any close neighbors to upset.

Right now, I really need this.

I don’t know when Logan returns, but he does. I don’t realize he’s watching me from the distance of one of the trees until I open my eyes long enough to take in my surroundings.

He’s got this weird expression on his face. One that looks oddly relieved. Once he realizes he’s been caught, he moves toward his home. Instead of sitting next to me like a part of me hopes, he takes one of the rocking chairs against the cabin.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Letting out the compliment without batting an eye, his chair creaks. “I alwayswondered how you played that thing. Self-taught, too, if I remember right.”

Heat prickles up at the back of my neck as I continue strumming. “It’s nothing crazy. It’s just…”

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