Page 134 of Frozen Hearts
Logan lifts me into his arms and carries me up the stairs. All the while, I cling to his T-shirt, unable to stop the flow of tears. I’m not even entirely surewhyI’m crying. It’s all just been too much. The secrets and lies. The hatred. The mind games and constant pushing and prodding at my partially closed wounds. I’m coming apart at the seams, and I don’t know how to stop the unraveling.
With every curled lip and haughty remark, Grayson tugs on another thread. Picking and picking until loose strands poke out everywhere, the frayed ends like exposed nerves threatening to undo me with every raw touch.
“I’m going to run you a bath, okay?” Logan murmurs gently as he carries me into the bathroom and sets me on the counter. “Girls like that sort of thing, right?”
I nod, wiping under my eyes as he moves to run the water and fill the tub.
“Then we can get into bed and watch a movie or just go to sleep. Whatever you want.”
“You want me to sleep in your bed again?” I ask. I hadn’t given it much thought since this morning. Sure, sleeping in a proper bed for a change was nice, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up that it was anything more than a one-off.
Leaving the water to run, he stalks back toward me, cupping my chin with his hand. “You’re welcome in my bed for as long as you want, Shortcake.”
“What about Grayson?”
He scoffs. “After what he just did, he can eat a dick.” I chuckle weakly. “I don’t care what he says, you’re not sleeping on that floor any longer.”
I smile wearily at him, and he softly strokes my cheek before moving back to check the temperature of the water.
“Uhh, I don’t have any bubble bath. Shower gel will suffice, won’t it?”
“Shower gel is fine,” I assure him, watching with a strange sort of detachment as he pours half the bottle into the tub until a thin layer of bubbles forms.
Once he’s done that, he turns awkwardly in the small space, clearly having no idea what to do. It’s sweet and endearing, even in my numb state. “Erm, should I leave you alone?”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to. The company would be nice if you don’t mind staying.”
“If you want me here, I want to be here, Shortcake.”
Giving him a small smile, I twirl my finger in a signal for him to turn around, and when his back is to me, I slide off the bathroom counter and shimmy out of my clothes before getting into the tub.
“You can turn around now,” I tell him when I’m submerged up to my shoulders.
Leaning my head against the edge, I sigh as I stare up at the ceiling while Logan gets himself comfortable on the floor facing me.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks after several drawn-out moments of silence.
My head falls to the side as I shift my focus to him. “I had the biggest crush on Grayson when we first moved in with him and his dad,” I tell him. “He was older, popular, and he always acknowledged me if we crossed paths at school, and talked to me when we were at home.”
There was a soft smile on my face as I recall how Grayson looked and behaved back then, but it instantly falls as my memories start to shift.
“That first night, my stupid, naive heart thought it was him coming into my room. I remember being so nervous as I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. I was certain he’d hear my heart smashing against my ribs. It took everything in me to stay still when the bed dipped. And when he brushed my hair back from my face, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. But then it washisvoice I heard and the fantasy shattered like broken glass.”
If Logan is uneasy by my topic choice, he doesn’t show it while holding my gaze as I flay myself open for him to see every withered, scarred, rotten piece of my soul.
I chuckle, the sound arctic and foreign. “If you’d told fifteen-year-old me that when she finally got to be with her crush, it would be a hate-fuck in a field, she’d be mortified.”
“You fucked him?” Logan blurts, and I don’t miss the flare of hurt in his eyes.
“Yup,” I say, popping the ‘p’. “You can go back to hating me now.”
Unable to look at him, I turn my head away to stare at the wall instead.
“I don’t hate you, Riley,” Logan whispers after a long moment. I keep my focus firmly fixed on the wall. “You and Grayson… it’s complicated between you.”
Complicated… that’s a nice way of putting it.
Fucked up. Ill-fated.
