Page 156 of Keeping Kasey
I take the bags and storm to the door separating my room from Logan’s. When I open it, I raise my hand to knock on his, but there’s no need.
It’s already open.
Logan sits in an uncomfortable-looking chair with his laptop balanced on his legs.
“What is this?” I ask, tossing the bags carelessly onto the floor.
He doesn’t look up from his screen. “You had coffee today. You only drink coffee when you don’t sleep, so I arranged to have a few things brought to your room.”
Logan’s tone is matter-of-fact, lacking any snark or emotion.
He sounds tired.
I take a second to study him—reallystudy him.
He’s still wearing his slacks, but his jacket is thrown across the bed, and his white button-up is wrinkled. His hair is mussed like last night—like he’s been pulling at it.
“I don’t want them.”
“Then don’t use them.”
“And stay out of my room. You have no right going in there.”
When he looks up, there are dark circles beneath his eyes.
How did I not notice those before?
He looks exhausted.
“It won’t happen again.”
It’s the same answer he gave when I snapped at him this morning.
I’d expected a fight then—I’d expected a fightnow—but nothing about Logan’s countenance is aggressive.
Just tired.
The strangest mix of emotions twists my gut, emotions I’ve suppressed for months.
Logan hasn’t been passive a day in his life. He’s a wrecking ball—a larger-than-life force of mass destruction. He takes what he wants without hesitation and revels in the ruin left in his wake.
The old Logan would’ve told me he paid for the room, and he can walk in whenever he damn well pleases. He would’ve made a point of getting me to admit I’d rather have tea and energy drinks than coffee. He would’ve never sat by and assured meit won’t happen again.
But that’s a good thing.
He’s put me through hell, and he deserves to feel as alone as I did. He isn’t pushing me around and treating me as a hostage anymore.
It’s exactly what I want.
So why does it feel like I’ve broken something I can’t put back together?
I never should’ve come into his room. I should’ve ignored the stupid bags and gone to bed.
This was a huge mistake.
But it’s too late now, and since I can’t bring myself to go back into my room, I try another approach.
“I’m hungry.”
