Page 30 of One More Chance
Charlotte turned and met the eyes of her first love as they bored straight into her soul.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?” Charlotte didn’t know what the hell he was asking. SHE was the one with the questions. Why did he stand her up? Why didn’t he apologize? Why did she never hear from him again?
“Your name. Why did you change it? I liked Billie Jo.”
Logan’s hand started to feel like a vice around hers, she balled her hand into a fist, flexing the hockey player’s grip from her arm. “Well, I didn’t like it. And I don’t owe you an explanation at all.”
Logan took a deep breath and held his hands up in front of him. “You kinda do owe me an explanation though.”
Charlotte’s mouth gaped open. “That’s rich.” Her stomach knotted and she pursed her lips tightly to hold in the angry scream that was waiting behind them. However, instead of blowing up at Logan in front of the whole town, she did what she did best—ran. She turned on her heel and marched out the door of the tavern and down the street.
She heard Logan’s footsteps crunch on the icy sidewalk as he trailed behind her. “Wait, Billie Jo, wait...”
“It’s Charlotte,” she turned and screamed. “Billie Jo is gone. You made damn sure of that when you and your friends made your bet.”
“Bet?” Logan stopped dead in his tracks. “What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” Goosebumps prickled on her arms and she crossed them tightly across her chest as she hurried away from him. She cringed at the crunch of the sidewalk salt under her feet as she walked but would happily sacrifice her boots if it meant she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze again.
“Bill—Charlotte, STOP.” She kept going. She’d be damned if she was going to turn around on command. No one, especially Logan Brush, was going to order her around. She picked up her pace and hurdled the snowbank. Her hair flew behind her as she broke into a run to clear the snowbank on the opposite side of the street. As she pushed into her leap across the snowbank her leather sole hit a patch of black ice. The streetlamp shone directly into her eyes as her feet flew up over her head, then she heard a crunching sound as her elbow broke her fall. She rolled onto her side as fiery pain seared through her arm.
In seconds, Logan was kneeling beside her on the dirty street. “Are you okay?”
Charlotte tried to push him away but yelped and gripped at her elbow. “Get out of here, Logan,” she seethed, holding in the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks.
“You’re bleeding.” He touched the back of her arm gently. “You need to get off the street.” He moved so he was crouched over her crumpled body. “Let me help you,” he said as he tried to pick her up by her good arm. Charlotte gasped as the pain from her elbow was surpassed by the new throbbing in her tailbone.
“I’m fine. Just leave me alone, Logan. You’re good at that.”
Logan’s grip on her arm loosened and he hung his head. “You need to get off the street. Let me help you and then you never have to talk to me again. I promise.”
“You promise?” she grimaced as she brought herself to a seated position. Her ass was starting to melt the ice on the street, soaking her through to her underwear.
“Promise.” Logan scooped her up in his arms and cleared the snowbank in one easy step. Charlotte gripped the back of his muscular neck and his wavy hair tickled the back of her good hand. She held her breath in an effort to avoid his scent, a heady combination of musk and cedar.
“I’m going to set you down now,” he whispered in her ear. Over his shoulder, small flakes of snow danced in the streetlamp.
Her boots brushed the sidewalk as he set her down gently. His strong arms felt supportive like steel under her knees and back.
“Can you stand?”
Charlotte winced as she pushed onto her feet but was able to bring her body to a standing position. As the adrenaline began to fade, she started to shake, her stoic attempt to stand was undermined by her body and she crumpled. Logan’s fingers responded and pressed into her ribcage as he held her upright. Her arm was draped over his wide shoulder, her fingers digging into the expanse of his neck. She wanted to rip her hand away and continue her I am woman, hear me roar, walk away from him, but knew that without this support of his body, she wouldn’t make it to the end of the block.
“Just give me a second,” she said quietly.
“Take all the time you need.” Logan’s exhale warmed her cheek, and she realized that he had been holding his breath too. They stood in silence as Charlotte tried to will some strength into her body. The microscopic snowflakes had grown to pellets, common for spring, and both started to accumulate crowns of white. Logan brushed the snow from Charlotte’s hair and when she started to shiver, he pulled her in tighter.
Charlotte tensed but gave in to the warmth and comfort of his body. She rested her head on his chest and allowed her body to become soft against his. Logan rubbed her uninjured arm with his hand. “You’re freezing.”
The familiarity of his arms and the fact that after all these years he still smelled the same brought Charlotte back to a time when all she wanted was to be held by Logan. Now years later, his arms were bigger and stronger, but his body still felt like home. She inhaled the memories, but with the good, came the bad, and she pushed away from him, wincing as she stood on her own two feet.
“You’re still bleeding.”
“I’ll be fine, Logan,” she said and took a step back, steam from her breath filling the gap between them. “It’s just a scratch,” she said through chattering teeth.
Logan pulled his hockey sweater over his head and before she could protest, he pulled the sweater over her head, engulfing her in its warmth. “No,” she squirmed. “I’m bleeding.”
