Page 93 of Wicked Minds
“I do. Not that I get much of a chance to.”
“What sort of books do you read?” He lifts a book off the shelf, studying the back of it before flipping through a few pages.
“Fiction. Fantasy mostly. I love the break it gives me from reality, the escape into another world that’s so vastly differentfrom the one we live in. Where the main female characters dance on the edge of despair yet emerge as warriors in their own right.”
Taking his hand, I pull him deeper into the bookstore, scanning the shelves until I find the one I’m looking for, then search the titles on the spines of each book until I find one I’ve read. “Take her, for example,” I say, pulling one out from the shelf and showing him the cover with a fierce, sword-wielding woman on it. “She’s faced with the unimaginable—betrayal, loss, monsters that haunt both the world and her soul. Yet, she doesn’t crumble. Characters like her… they don’t just survive; they thrive in adversity. They teach me that strength isn’t the absence of pain, but the ability to wield it. They dance through the darkness with grace, confronting nightmares with swords drawn and hearts unyielding.”
I pause, my eyes meeting his as I search his chestnut hues for understanding. “They’re my heroes. My inspiration. They face demons with a courage that defies the odds. They’re not devoid of fear; they just don’t let it control them. Their bravery keeps me going when life gets hard and feels pointless.”
Sliding the book back onto the shelf, I explain, “Reading their stories, it’s not about denying reality. It’s about finding the strength to face it.”
When I look up at Logan, he surges forward, hands on my hips, tugging me closer as his supple lips meet mine in a tender yet passionate kiss.
“The women in these books may be your heroines, but, baby, you’re mine. What you’ve survived… the grace with which you face your trauma every single day astounds me. The fact you can still be so compassionate, loving, and caring after having experienced the worst of humanity… that right there is pure magic. Your strength knows no bounds, and if these books have helped you become the incredible woman before me, then Iguess I better give one a read.” He plucks the book I’d just returned from the shelf, scanning the blurb on the back.
“Logan,” I rasp, gaining his attention. “Kiss me again.”
A thud echoes in the aisle, my bag and the book hitting the floor as Logan’s arms band around me, his lips sealing over mine as he fills my soul with the same strength I gain from reading my books.
Bodies flush, and the feel of his hard muscles flexing beneath me sends shivers coursing through my body as my lips part and our kiss deepens.
“We better stop before we get asked to leave,” Logan reluctantly says, his voice a full octave deeper than usual.
“We wouldn’t want that,” I tease, leaning into him and soaking up his strength.
“Not before I buy this.” He bends down to retrieve the paperback.
“You don’t have to buy that, Logan.”
“Try stopping me. If these characters have lent my girl strength when she needed it, then they’re characters I have to meet.”
“Do you even like fantasy books?” I ask, ignoring the flipping of my heart at his sentiment.
He shrugs. “No idea. We’ll find out.”
Taking my hand in his, he pulls me to the front of the store, where the shopkeeper is sitting on a stool behind the register.
“I’ll take a copy of the book in your window, too,” Logan tells the man, who goes to retrieve it.
“Lo-” His hand claps over my mouth.
“Shush, woman. Let me treat you.” He’s grinning like a loon. When he removes his hand, he smacks a quick kiss on my lips before turning to the register as the shopkeeper returns, paying for our orders before we leave.
“Have you heard anything from your mom this week?” Logan asks as we enter my apartment building. We went for dinner after leaving the bookstore, and I had the best day ever with him.
“Ha. Nope.”
“What do you wanna do? The offer to drive you to see her still stands.”
I shake my head. “She’ll call me this week. It’s her usual MO.”
He makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.
“I wanna talk to my family’s lawyers about your situation—get their opinion. Would you be okay with that?”
I chew on my bottom lip as we climb the stairs. “You don’t have to do that, Logan...”
“Riley,” he says seriously, “Iwantto help. There’s no reason for you to wait another four years until you can afford a decent lawyer, especially when my family has one on retainer. They’re not family lawyers, so they might not be of any use, but I can at least see what they have to say.”
