Page 89 of Logan
But God help me, standing here in front of him, close enough to catch the familiar notes of his spicy cologne, all I can think about is the slide of his sweat-slicked skin against mine.
The broken, reverent way he breathed my name against the hollow of my throat as he moved inside me, worshipping me with lips and teeth and tongue.
The tender almost-kisses he pressed to my hairline as he gathered me close in the hazy afterglow, stroking my spine as if I was infinitely precious.
Something to be cherished.
But the remote, untouchable look on his face tells me it’s all over.
Well, message received, loud and clear.
I clear my throat, straighten my spine, and reshape my lips into a bland, professional smile. “Goodbye, Mr. Valeur. I’ll see you at the presentation tomorrow.”
I stumble up the stairs to my apartment, each step feeling like I’m wading through molasses. Thoughts and memories of London continue to assault me, playing on an endless loop in my mind. Emery was right all along. I never should have slept with him. It was a mistake. A huge, colossal mistake.
How am I supposed to keep pretending that nothing happened? How am I supposed to withstand those piercing gazes after I’ve seen those icy eyes burn with desire for me?
Fuck.
As I round the corner to my floor, I jerk to an abrupt halt, my heart leaping into my throat. Because there, leaning against my door with a bouquet of roses in hand is the last person I expected to see.
“What are you doing here?” I press a hand to my racing heart, trying to calm its frantic gallop.
“I brought you flowers.” Johnny holds up the bouquet like a peace offering, a hopeful smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Why would I want flowers from you?” I snap, abandoning the search for my keys and crossing my arms over my chest.
“You haven’t been answering my texts, and I needed to talk to you. You know how much I’ve regretted that moment.” He extends the bouquet toward me, but I make no move to take it.
“I don’t want anything from you.” I eye the flowers like they might bite me.
“Sloane, I’m sorry. How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry? What else can I do to make you forgive me? It’s been a year already.” He sounds exasperated, and a petty part of me relishes it.
“Yes, it has. And do you remember why we broke up? Because I remember. I remember all too well, Johnny.” I can hear the venom dripping from my words, but I’m too tired and heartsore to rein it in.
“I made a mistake. You were always the one. I even bought you a gift.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box.
“Give it to Kelly.” I spit her name like it’s something rancid on my tongue.
“I’m not with Kelly. That was a one-time mistake. I want you back.” He takes a step toward me, but I hold up a hand, halting him in his tracks.
“Not going to happen. Not only did you cheat on me, butyou just had to do it with someone I knew. Someone from work. And everyone knew about it!” My voice rises with each word until I’m practically shouting. “How long was it going on? How many times did you fuck her behind my back? Did you ever consider how embarrassing that would be for me?”
“I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?” He holds the roses up like an offering to an angry goddess. “It was only one time, one mistake. You’re worth so much more than her. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it then, but I do now. You’re the woman of my life. Please, Sloane.”
I press my fingers to my throbbing temples, feeling a headache building behind my eyes. “I just want you to leave.”
I turn my back on him and shove my key into the lock with more force than necessary. The door swings open, and I step inside, fully intending to slam it in his face, but he lunges forward and catches it before I can.
“Let me take you out to dinner. Just a meal, to talk. I want to show you how much I’ve changed, how much I’ve grown up in this past year. You’ll see that I’m a different man now.” His eyes are wide and pleading, and I hate myself for the tiny part of me that wants to believe him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I try to push the door closed, but he wedges his foot in the gap.
“Please. For old times’ sake. Give me a chance to explain, to talk. Just one chance.”
I heave a sigh, feeling my resistance crumbling in the face of his persistence. “Let me think about it.”
He nods, a grin splitting his face. “That’s all I’m asking. Just think about it. I’ll text you later, and we can set something up.”
