A bubble of laughter crawls up my throat and she visibly relaxes at the sound. “It’s okay. I have a sister. A nosy-ass sister. I understand.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she says, once again catching me off guard. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been. I won’t pretend to understand what it felt like, because I’ve never been in love. But I do know what it’s like to come second to someone else.”
She’s offering me an olive branch. I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I take it. “You do?”
“Unfortunately.” Logan wraps a strand of hair around her fingers, twirling it. “My dad chose his girlfriend over me. It’s not something I like to think about, but I want you to know that I understand and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone,” she says, looking up at me. “Did Connor tell you how we met?” she asks.
“Foster care.”
“Yup. My dad neglected me and I was eventually taken away from him. I bounced around several horrible foster homes, but the day of my last move was the luckiest day of my life.”
“It was?” I ask, curious. Why on earth would moving into a new foster home be the best day of someone’s life?
“It was. Because that’s the day I met my brother.” I didn’t miss that Logan emphasized the word brother. “Connor and I might not share the same blood, but he is my family in every sense of the word. Do I love Connor? Yes, but not the way you’re afraid of. And trust me, I understand why you’d be afraid.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I don’t necessarily agree with it—which is why I’m here—but I understand. Putting yourself out there like that, in the same situation you were in before? That would be terrifying. I’m not sure I could do it, so I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“But you just said you don’t agree with me,” I say, my brows dipping low.
“Yeah, well, that’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. Coming in second sucks. I don’t want to go through something like that again, just like you don’t want to. But I’d gladly come in second to you.”
“What?” I drop down onto the couch.
“I love Connor,” she states firmly. “Nothing and no one is ever going to change that—not even you. But I’m not in love with him. Never have been, never will be. And the thing is, I realize Connor isn’t my dad. He may put you first, which he should, but he wouldn’t forget about me. He won’t treat me the way my dad did. And he wouldn’t treat you the way Tyson did.”
My lips press together in a frown. “I don’t know, Logan.” Bringing my hand to my mouth, I pull at my lip, my mind digesting everything she just said.
“Do you want to know why I’d gladly take second place to you?” she asks hopefully. I nod. “Because you make him happy. You’re so different than any girl he’s been with, and trust me, I’ve been there for all of them. He smiles every time he says your name, even after you left him.”
My eyes burn, tears pushing against the confines of my lashes. Logan didn’t have to come over here and tell me all of this, but she did because she wants her best friend to be happy. And apparently, she realizes the person who makes him happy is me. The old Brit would’ve likely found a way to discredit everything she’s saying, but the new Brit wants desperately to believe it. Because the new Brit can’t say Connor’s name without smiling, too.
A small grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. Maybe my heart was right to take a chance on Connor. Maybe it learned its lesson the first time and recognizes Connor for who he is—the type of man to love me the way I deserve to be loved.
“I hope that smile means something good,” Logan says, her eyes bright with hope.
Regret quickly overshadows my moment of happiness as I recall the way I so easily dismissed Connor. What if doesn’t forgive me? What if he thinks I’m batshit crazy? What if I threw away my one chance at real happiness?
“No,” Logan snaps, catching my attention. “Your smile is fading. Why in the world is your smile fading?”
“What if I already ruined everything? It wasn’t like we were together long. What if he’s decided I’m a flight risk?”
“Girl…” Logan clucks her tongue. She stands up and I follow suit. “We’re all flight risks. It’s what makes us human. And guess what?”
“What?”
“Humans make mistakes, and the really awesome humans—like Connor—forgive those mistakes.”
“Did he tell you he’d forgive me?”
“Hell no,” she scoffs. “And trust me, I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but all I’ve gotten are grunts and nods. You know, the typical male bullshit. That’s the other reason I knew you were in his life for good.” I cock a brow, urging her to continue, and she rolls her eyes. “Connor tells me everything about everything…except when it comes to you.”
Wow. That’s surprising, especially if they’re best friends. Tyson used to tell Harley everything. It was one of the things that pissed me off the most. Maybe appearances aren’t the only way that Connor and Tyson are different.
“I’ve spent the last three days begging him to give me the nitty-gritty details, but the brute won’t budge. His lips are sealed because you’re important to him. And if you’re important to him, you’re important to me.”
Logan barely gets the last word out before I yank her into my arms. At first she doesn’t hug me back, but that’s okay; I don’t take offense to it. I just keep squeezing until she finally does. It starts with a pat on my back and then her grip on me tightens.
“Maybe we can both come first,” I say, wanting so badly to be Logan’s friend.
“Nah,” she says. “You should come first. That’s how it should be. Plus, I’m moving to Tennessee.”
Gripping her shoulders, I pull back until we’re eye to eye. “You’re moving to Tennessee?”
“Yep. Connor didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head. “But I didn’t exactly give him the chance.”
“Well, I am, and I need someone here to look after my brother. I need to know he’s taken care of. And I could really use someone that’s willing to help me out when I bring a cowboy back home with me.”
Furrowing my brows, I try to picture Connor meeting Logan’s cowboy boyfriend. Connor in his Chucks, long hair, beard, and colorful tattoos, versus a Stetson-wearing cowboy. That could be really interesting. “I promise to run interference,” I say.
“See?” she says, nudging my shoulder. “This is going to work out perfectly.” Logan’s eyes soften. “Who knows, maybe I’ll get a sister out of it.” She tried to sound flippant, but I could see past her façade.
“I think that sounds fantastic.”
Logan’s face lights up, and for several seconds we both just stare at each other.
“Well, I better get going,” she says, nodding toward the door.
“Are you going to Connor’s?” I ask.
“No,” she says, winking at me. “You are.”
It’s been three days since Brittany walked out of my house. I shouldn’t care, considering I’d only known her for a hot second, but boy was it a hot second. The best damn hot second of my life.
And that right there is exactly why I can’t let her go.
I can’t…and won’t.
She stunned the hell outta me with the story about her fiancé. As much as I hated to hear what happened to her, it explains her reaction to Logan being a female. I can’t say I blame her for being upset. If the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve lost my shit, too.
My heart broke for her, and by the time I came up with something to say, she was already gone. I pounded on her front door for nearly an hour, begging her to talk to me. It wasn’t until Logan grabbed my arm and physically pulled me back to my house that I finally gave up. But even then I didn’t really give up, because I can’t stop thinking about her and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been plotting ways to get her back.
I’ve been with my fair share of women, but not one has affected me the way Brittany has. Her big blue
eyes peeking up at me under thick, dark lashes made my heart flip over in my chest. The dimples in her cheeks, winking at me every time she laughed, caused me to lose my breath. But what affected me the most was feeling her body shudder under the touch of my hand. That feeling made me want to stand on a mountain and pound my chest, claiming her as mine.
So right now I’m doing the only thing I can do. I’m holding on to those moments while I give her time. Unfortunately for her, the more time I spend thinking, the more pissed off I get.
What Tyson did was shitty, but I’m not Tyson.
Clenching my jaw, I stand up. What the hell am I supposed to do? How do I handle this? A part of me thinks I need to sit back and just give her time to miss me; that she’ll realize what a terrible mistake she made. The other part of me wants to tear into her for screwing with my feelings the way she has. I let her into my life, I bent my rules, and this is the shit she pulls?
Fuck.
She’s got me so fucking tied up in knots it isn’t even funny. It’s infuriating, actually.
My frustration is at an all-time high. I pace the living room several times before deciding that giving her space is the wrong choice. I’m not sure giving her a piece of my mind is the right way to go, but it’s what I’m going to do, and damn it, she’s going to listen.
Leaving the house, I stomp toward Brittany’s side of the duplex. Before I make it to her porch, the front door flies open, revealing what appears to be a deliriously happy Brittany and a smiling Logan.
What. The. Hell.
Brittany’s gaze lands on me. Her smile falters just a fraction, the happiness seemingly replaced with uncertainty. There’s no room for uncertainty now, sweetheart. You said your piece, and now it’s time I said mine.
She takes a step toward me. Straightening my back, I square my shoulders and stalk toward her. Something in my approach must confuse her because she stops and flicks her eyes to Logan before bringing them back to me.
“Goodbye, Logan,” I say without sparing her a glance. Logan snickers, but out of the corner of my eye I see her scurry toward her car. I walk straight over to Brittany, not stopping until we’re toe to toe. The air around us crackles. It’s something I’d gotten used to, something I’m going to miss if I can’t get her to see she’s making a huge fucking mistake. Something I’m afraid I’ll never feel again with anyone else.
Chin held high, I glare at Brittany. Gorgeous blue eyes are watching me carefully, sparkling with what looks a whole hell of a lot like hope. Her hair is pulled up in a bun on top of her head, loose strands floating around her face, and her shirt is a rumpled mess. She looks so different like this; not at all like the put-together doctor she is. I like this side of her. I like every side of her.
I’ve never wanted so badly to both kiss a woman and physically shake her as I do in this moment.
“I’m so fucking pissed at you right now,” I say, grinding the words out. Brittany scrunches her nose at the tone of my voice. She’s so damn adorable when she does that. My body deflates, my frustration waning.
Oh hell no, Connor, I think to myself, you will not get distracted. You came here because you have something to say, and—damn it—you’re going to say it.
“We need to talk, and by that I mean I’m going to do the talking and you’re going to listen.”
Brittany’s brows are now nearly touching her hairline. She plants a fist on her hip. “Well, I have a few things to say, too,” she says with just as much bite.
“You’ve already talked and now it’s my turn.” My eyes lock on her plump lower lip as she sucks it into her mouth. Even though it’s only been a few days, I already recognize this as a nervous habit.
Pulling my eyes to hers, I swear I see a hint of amusement flash across her face. “Cut the bullshit,” I snap, watching her face fall. “This isn’t funny. You’re blaming me for the mistakes of that prick who broke your heart.” Nothing like throwing it all out there, and there’s no stopping now. “I’m nothing like him. I would never hurt you because I care about you, and hurting you would hurt me. But you don’t feel the same way, do you?” I ask, not really looking for an answer.
“That’s not—”
“Because if you felt the same way,” I say, interrupting her, “then you wouldn’t have walked away so easily. Did you even try giving us a chance, or were you so scared of getting hurt again that you looked for an out any place you could find it?” She opens her mouth, but I’m not done. “And I handed it to you on a silver fucking platter, didn’t I? I gave you the one reason to bail that everyone would understand.”
“Connor—”
“This is pointless,” I say, gripping the back of my neck. “You’ve already put me in the same category as him. There’s no sense trying to defend myself. But you know what? I shouldn’t have to defend myself, because I deserve better than that. I’m a good guy who would give every single part of myself, and I deserve that in return.” Brittany’s eyes glisten under the dull light of the falling sun. Her tears rip through my heart, the sharp pain radiating to my soul. I can tell my words hit their mark.
I hurt her.
I just said I would never hurt her, yet I did it anyway.
I’m no better than she is. Maybe we’re better off not together after all.
Taking a deep breath, I find my resolve. “I can’t do this.” I glance at my house. Maybe it’s time to make my exit.
“Are you done spewing all of that bullshit?”
My head snaps back, her words a slap in the face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I came out here to tell you I’m sorry,” she says, the expression on her face much softer than her voice.
“You did?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” Grabbing her chin, I demand her attention. “Tell me,” I plead. The energy that was coursing through my body is quickly transforming from frustration to hope.
“I’m sorry—”
My arms wrap around her before she even finishes apologizing. Pulling her body flush against mine, I hold her close…and this time I’m not letting her go. Relief washes through me, because being without her was going to hurt like a bitch.
Brittany laughs, her face squished against my chest. “You don’t even know what I was going to say,” she mumbles against my shirt.
Chills race down my spine, unease settling in my gut. Pulling back, I narrow my eyes.
“No,” Brittany says quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I do apologize, but I want to finish apologizing.”
Lips parting, I sigh in relief. “Does your apology end with us being together?”
“Yes, but I don’t want you to let me off that easily,” she says, her eyes brimming with more tears.
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Shush.” Brittany presses a finger against my lips. “It does matter.” I shake my head, but it doesn’t deter her. “You were right. I was blaming you for someone else’s mistakes, and that wasn’t fair to you or to Logan—whom I’m very fond of, by the way. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry if I broke your trust.” I shake my head again, and this time she lowers her hand. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you. Just…” Her voice trembles. Grabbing her hand, I lace our fingers together, silently urging her to continue. Her fingers tighten around mine. “Be gentle with me, okay? Because I’m going to fall for you, and I’ve already had my heart stomped on. I’m not sure how much more abuse it can take.”
Bringing my free hand to her face, I cup her jaw. “Well, that’s good to hear because I’m already falling for you.” Brittany’s face lights up, the dimples in her cheeks popping out. Warmth radiates through my chest, slowly seeping outward. “I’m not sure what life has in store for us, but I can promise that you won’t regret this. You won’t regret us, and you won’t regret me.”
Closing her eyes, she nuzzles her cheek in the palm of my hand. “Just promise me one thing,” she says, her lids fluttering open.
“What’s that?”
“If at any point you’re not happy or you have feelings for someone else, just tell me. Please don’t stay with me out of obligation or fear. Just be honest. That’s all I need.”
“I can do that,” I whisper. “As long as you’ll promise to do the same.”
She pulls her hand out of mine and then slowly slides both of them up my chest. “I promise.” Gripping the material of my shirt, she crashes her lips against mine. My lips part as she devours me, and there really is nothing else I can do other than go with it because I need her so much right now.
Planting my hands on her ass, I hoist her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, the warmth of her body pressing against my cock. My chest rumbles and I rip my mouth from hers. “Is this the point where we get to have crazy hot make-up sex?”
Her swollen lips part. “Yes,” she says, breathless. “Make-up sex. Great idea. What the hell are you waiting for?” Running her fingers along my scruffy jaw, she pushes her hands into my hair and fists it. Her hot mouth attacks my neck, and what little control I had left snaps.
I have no idea what I did to deserve this little spitfire, but no way in hell am I letting her go again.
Several months later
“Are you sure about this?” Connor asks, prepping the underside of my left forearm.
Leaning forward, I kiss the top of his head. “Of course I’m sure about this. I trust you.”
His beautiful blue eyes peek up at me. “I know you do, baby. All right, here we go. It shouldn’t take long at all.”
Sitting back in the chair, I close my eyes. The tattoo gun buzzes to life, and I flinch when it first touches my skin. Connor said this would be a sensitive spot, and it definitely is, but the pain seems to be dulling with each pass.
I knew it was time for my next tattoo. My previous two are linked to not-so-great memories. They’re there to remind me about my past and what I’ve overcome. This time, however, I wanted the tattoo to reflect a really great memory. Last week, Connor told me he loved me for the first time. I felt those three words deep down in my soul, and of course I returned them.
Live Without Regret (A Touch of Fate) Page 10