Page 69 of Puck Drop
He becomes aware of his weight on me and moves to the side, with both of us hissing in protest when he slips out of me. I force myself to let go of the bars on the headboard, my arms tingling now that I am becoming aware of my surroundings once again. We both turn on our sides to face each other, and I smile when I see the worried look on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, the worry in his voice obvious.
I give him a coy, albeit tired, smile. “If I was any better, I would pass out.”
He runs a gentle finger over my hair before pushing it behind my ear. “We don’t want that.”
His dimple makes an appearance when he lets out a little smirk, and my eyes focus on it until that is the only thing I see. It’s mostly because I need to distract myself with something. Tonight was a complete disaster.
“We should probably talk about what happened earlier with your father,” Logan suggests. It’s like he can see the wheels turning in my head, and he knows exactly the thoughts they stir inside.
I let out a shuddering breath. “It felt strange seeing him after so long,” I say.
I don’t add the fact that it made me miss my father tremendously, more so than before. The reminder that our relationship is broken hurts my heart. We used to be so close, which is why I was shocked by the way he reacted to Logan when he found out about us. I never expected that. In fact, I thought he’d get over it within a day, then we’d all be happy doing our respective things. I didn’t think he would get as far as terminating Logan’s contract just to make sure he stayed away from me.
It appears that I surprised him as well. He never imagined that I would just leave and follow Logan all the way to Texas. I never saw myself as that type of person either until I was in the situation.
“He is still angry about the whole thing.”
Logan sounds slightly concerned when he says that, making me frown.
“He can’t do anything to us, Lo.” My voice comes out stronger than I feel. “And he especially can’t do anything to you,”I make sure to say. “If he does, I swear I will go to the press. If nothing else, it’ll cause a big scandal, and he hates that kind of stuff.”
Logan rolls his eyes at me as he fights the beginning of a smile. “I’m not worried about me, you little nut,” he says. “I just don’t want his words to get into your head.”
I sigh at that. It’s too late because they already have. I was feeling insecure to begin with, given me losing my job and now having to depend on Logan for a lot of things, and most of all for emotional support. My father made it sound like I would never be able to stand on my own two feet. What if he is right?
“I need to focus more on my work,” I say, seemingly out of nowhere. “The one gallery in Austin seemed more interested than the other. They might be able to help me.”
I am wide awake, focused on what I need to do. In fact, I should write it all down.
With sudden moves, I roll over and throw the sheets off me. I rush to the bathroom where I grab a robe off the hook on the back of the door. I should take a shower, too, but I don’t want to forget what I’m thinking right now.
“Elizabeth?” Logan calls out after me. “What are you doing?”
I walk back into the bedroom only to find him in a sitting position in bed, surrounded by the rumpled bedding.
Instead of responding to him, I power walk out of the room and straight for where my makeshift studio is. The tile flooring is cool under my feet, a welcome feeling as I am overheated after our earlier exertions.
I pull the lid off a box, digging in there for a new large drawing pad I just purchased. Bringing it out, I place it on the easel in the corner and flip it to the first page.
There’s shuffling behind me. “Lizzie?” Logan speaks right next to me, making me jump. He is standing here naked and unbothered by the fact.
“I need something to write with,” I tell him.
The confusion on his face is epic. He just stares and doesn’t move an inch.
“It’s almost midnight,” he finally says. “Can’t you write whatever you need to write tomorrow?”
I shake my head at him. “No. It needs to be right now while it’s still fresh in my head.”
Scratching at his head, he leaves the room, presumably in search of a pen. While he does that, I try to keep my mental list refreshed, scared that the few precious minutes it’ll take me to write it all down will be enough for everything to be erased from my brain.
“I got a Sharpie…”
“Perfect!” I snatch it from his hand before he has time to say more. Running to the easel where my drawing pad is set up, I pull the cap off but then pause just as the tip is about to touch the paper.
“Not gonna lie, babe,” Logan mumbles from behind me. “You’re scaring me a little right now.”
