by Hart, Hanna
Hadn't Paris been amazing? Wasn't it the start of their relationship? Now he was acting aloof and cold, like he wanted to go back on the whole things. And if that was the case, as much as she wouldn't like it, shouldn't he tell her as much?
‘Oops, sorry, we made a mistake.’
How hard would that be to say to her?
She began her slow walk back up the beach toward his condo. Once she reached the back door, she hesitated. She knew she was going to confront him, but his answer scared her so much she felt frozen. So instead of walking through the doors, she climbed back up to the upstairs patio and let her legs hang through the bars of the railing.
After some time of sitting there, a familiar voice shouted up, "Riley?"
She leaned toward the bars and saw Logan's friend Timothy, who she'd met at the wedding and during several late-night outings. "Hey," she said, hoping her small voice could cut through the rain.
"Wh-what are you doing out here?" he said, making his way toward the staircase. When he reached her, he crouched next to her, hovering a large umbrella over the two of them. He looked over her soaked clothes and then back toward Logan's patio door. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," she said in a friendly, but dismissive tone. "It's fine. I just, like the rain. Apparently, that's really hard to believe."
"You sure?" he asked with a laugh, narrowing his brows. "You sure you guys didn't get in some huge fight, and now you're locked out?"
Her eyes went wide at the comment, and before she could stutter out some defense, he nudged her arm and said, "I'm kidding."
"Oh," she mustered up a polite laugh. "And what are you doing out here?"
"Believe it or not, I like the rain," he smirked.
"So good to run into another daredevil," she teased.
"Actually, I was just coming back from a buddy's house, and I had walked there earlier so," he shrugged. "Decided to stop and enjoy it. Which I guess is good, 'cause it doesn't seem like it's going anywhere anytime soon."
She smiled again and stared out over the dark beach ahead of them. After some silence, Timothy asked, "You sure everything's okay here?"
Riley let out a sigh, feeling chilled to the bone now. "I don't know," she shrugged with a tired, sad laugh.
Timothy thinned his lips and took a long pause. Then he said, "You wanna come over?"
Riley's pulse quickened, and her eyes drew circles around the man's face. He seemed kind and friendly enough, not like someone who might overstep. Besides, as far as he knew, Riley was married to his friend.
"Just to get out of the rain, I mean," he offered. "Or go for a walk or something?"
She thought about that for a long moment and bit her lip. She turned back to Logan’s door; all the lights were off in the house. Then agreed to go with Timothy.
"Logan's... a hard guy to figure out," Timothy offered as they walked the beach back to his condo, which wasn't far.
"That he certainly is," she said, almost bitterly. Inside, she could feel a spike of irritation that not only was Logan not speaking to her, but now she was so hard-up for someone to talk to that she was alone with one of his closest friends. Even though it was her decision to go with him, part of her resented Logan for it.
"He's freezing you out?"
"Yeah," Riley said with a sigh as they reached his front door. She followed in behind him and waited by the door as he instructed. Timothy emerged just a few minutes later in clean, dry clothes, holding out a men's flannel pajama set and a robe. "Thanks," she said quickly, receiving the items from him. He showed her to the bathroom, and she quickly changed, feeling strange in another person's clothes, especially given how oversized they were. But, she was grateful for the warmth.
She slung her bikini and her wet clothes over the shower curtain and slipped a towel underneath them to catch any drips.
"And I don't know why," she continued as she emerged from the bathroom. "And it's more than that. He's not just freezing me out, he's... he's the whole damn arctic."
Timothy laughed and brushed his arms by his fireplace, which was now roaring with flames. "Yep. That's Logan."
"I know he has some baggage..." she admitted, walking toward the fire and plopping down in front of it so that the heat radiated against her face.
"Yeah, but, we all do," Timothy said. "I'm sure you do."
Riley widened her eyes almost comically and looked up at the redhead, who laughed at the expression. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Let's see, I have an ex-husband who's getting married to his pregnant girlfriend he left me for, and Logan, who despite..." she bit her tongue, the truth nearly spilling out, "everything we've been through, can't seem to communicate well enough to tell me what's wrong. All I'm getting is 'work' and other monosyllabic grunts."
"Ah, that's men for ya," he said and wandered briefly into the kitchen.
Timothy's home was set up much differently than Logan's, despite them being on the same stretch of beach. Timothy's condo looked more like a cabin. A multi-floored, million-dollar cabin. It had cozy furniture and wooden walls, maple built-in bookcases, and a large, stereotypical bear throw rug that she hoped was fake.
Timothy came up beside her and set down a piping mug of tea; something with ginger in it, from what she could smell.
"To warm up," he said as he set a shot glass of amber colored liquor next to the mug.
"Which one?" she laughed.
"Ah," he swatted his hand and sat down on the sofa near the fireplace. "Pick your poison."
She smiled at his kindness and raised the shot glass and downed the... yep, that was whiskey.
"Salud!" he said and downed a shot of his own. "So, you were married before?"
"Ugh," she mumbled, rubbing the palm of her hand along her makeup-less face. "I'd say don't remind me, but I'm reminded every day."
"Didn't end well?"
She scoffed. "Does it ever?"
Sitting in front of the coffee table, she pushed her shot glass across the surface toward Timothy and eyed the bottle of whiskey he'd brought out. He filled the tiny glass and shooed it back over to her.
"I guess not," Timothy shrugged and shook his head. "Breakups, man," he continued while pouring himself another drink. "They'll mess you right up."
Riley blew out a breath and for a moment, she contemplated telling this near complete stranger about her daughter. She felt like the truth of it all was bubbling up inside her and it was getting harder not to say anything.
And now she was supposed to spend the next six months pretending the most important part of her life didn't exist? She knew Logan didn't want to hear about Josh; she didn't want to hear about Stephania, either. But having Zoe meant always having Josh in her life on some level. And that was something Logan would never be able to understand if she wasn't able to tell him the truth.
"So how long's he been giving you the cold shoulder?"
"Three," she shrugged, "four days?"
"And you guys didn't fight or anything?"
"No," she laughed bitterly. "If we did, I sure didn't know about it."
"You think the wedding just freaked him out?" Timothy asked and then mused, "Wouldn't be surprised. He's had a rough year."
"I really don't know," she said, unable to tell the man that really, she hardly knew Logan at all. "But it sucks."
"Hey, uh..."
Riley's eyes shot up. She may not know Timothy, but she knew that tone. That tone that said he knew something that she didn't.
"What?" she asked, trying not to sound desperate.
"You don't think it has anything to do with Stephania?"
Riley nearly rolled her eyes. She was getting so sick of hearing that name.
"Why would it?"
"Oh, nothin', I just heard she was asking around about him. At least, I think she was.”
Is that all? She thought bitterly to herself and suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Had he gone to see her? Was this why he was being so distant?
She had sudden flashbac
ks of Joshua: the secrecy, the sudden change in demeanor. Was Logan messing around with her just the same? She couldn't take the silence anymore. Did he still love Stephania?
“I’m sorry,” she breathed and shook her head; forced a smile. “We’re just talking about me and I haven’t even asked a thing about you.”
She desperately wanted to change the subject, the mix of alcohol and the sudden panic over losing Logan making her feel sick.
“I’m just here, ranting to a stranger about my wedding woes.” She took another drink. “Not exactly a charming impression I’m making.”
“What? You’re crazy!” he said playfully, waving her off. “You’re my best friend’s badass wife who swims with sharks and goes out in a monsoon just for kicks. And after all that, she still kicks back to have a hard drink. What’s not to love?”
She exhaled an amused breath and stared down into her tea.
Riley Armstrong, making a good impression.
Imagine that, she thought.
The only problem was, she was impressing the wrong person.
Chapter Fourteen
Logan
The phone lit up on its base, waking Logan out of a hardly sound sleep. His ears perked up as he listened to the ringing chime. The name on the phone lit up 'TIM D' and he ignored it, waiting for it to silence.
As the room went quiet, Logan closed his eyes again. All he could hear now was the rush of rain beyond his windows.
He wondered if Riley had come back yet. He hadn't heard the doors open but figured she must have been off at Gabriella's or maybe back with her daughter.
He’d found out about the child, Zoe, about a week ago and had been having trouble keeping his anger to himself.
Riley had been strangely preoccupied in the last couple of days, so Logan was relieved to have her for an entire day. They met at the docks and Riley seemed to be in good spirits. He greeted her with a kiss: a hungry, passionate kiss that he hoped would leave her floating.
"I've missed you," he said in a whisper, pulling her even closer.
"I can see that," she winked flirtatiously. "I've missed you right back."
Since their honeymoon, things had been amazing. He could legitimately feel himself falling in love with her. Riley had an endless energy about her. She was never too tired to have an adventure, never so self-involved that she couldn't give advice.
They'd spent the entire day on the boat with Timothy and some of his other close friends, conquering their mutual fear of swimming with sharks by signing up for an experience.
Despite their amazing day together, Riley insisted on a girls’ night with Gabriella. Fine, he thought. She wants to bond with my sister. So, let her.
He made a pit-stop at his father's offices and replied to some e-mails before he began to feel anxious, wanting to get back to Riley as soon as possible. He knew she was set on her girls’ night with Gabriella, but there was a pull in him that needed to be with her.
"Hey, is Riley still there?"
"This is adorable," Gabriella said with a laugh. "You MISS her!"
"I didn't call to be mocked; I called to speak to my wife."
"No can do, bro. She's sleepin'."
"Ah," he said and glanced at the clock. Eleven-twenty-four. It was fair enough, but he couldn't help feeling like he needed just one last kiss from her to make it through the night. "You feel like having some company?"
Gabriella laughed, and he could nearly feel her shaking her head. "You're not coming over, buddy. She's conked out. Just wait 'til the morning!"
"Yeah, yeah," he said with a laugh. But when he drove home that night, he stopped at Gabriella's anyway. The lights were all out, but he used his key to get in. All he wanted was to sneak in one kiss.
Then he saw them there: Riley curled up on the couch with a little girl wrapped in her arms. The resembled was so striking he felt immediately sick.
He watched her for a minute before making himself scarce. Since then, all it took was a simple search to find the girl's birth record.
And so, it became official. Riley had a daughter.
She'd been lying to him for months.
Freezing her out hadn't been a plan or anything he enjoyed, but he still hadn't figured out what he wanted to say to her—or Gabriella, for that matter. They had both lied to him, and as far as he was concerned, that was it. Once you break trust, it's nearly impossible to get back.
He wasn't an idiot. If he were only paying her, hiring her for a job, then he could understand her hesitation to be forthcoming, considering what his ad said about children. But the moment things became real between them, she should have told him the truth. She should have given him the option to fall for her knowing everything there was to know.
And what kind of mother would hide her daughter, anyway? If the girl was that important to her, why wouldn't she want to share that part of her life with him?
At best, he could guess the answer was two-fold.
First, she wanted the money.
Second, she didn't want him to be involved with her daughter. Maybe she didn't think he was worthy of it. Or maybe she was still waiting for her ex to come back around and Logan had just been someone to pass the time with until she got what she actually wanted. Maybe she had even used Logan to make her ex jealous: told him she was now living on the island with a billionaire.
He felt a pang of jealousy wash through him and he grit his teeth as his phone lit up. It was Tim, again. He grabbed his phone off the charging base and pulled it close to his face.
Three-oh-five in the morning.
He swallowed, hard, and answered the phone in a panic.
"Hello?"
"Hey, man, sorry it's so late," Tim said nearly whispering.
"No problem," Logan rushed, "Everything okay?"
"Uh..."
Logan sat up, a list of potential problems running wildly through his head.
Tim was hurt?
Something happened to Logan's mother or Gabriella?
Logan's house was on fire?
He could remember a similar call in the night when he found out his father had died. It was part of the reason he'd been so sleepless since his passing: the trigger of sleep reminded him that at any time, something terrible could happen. The tone of Tim's voice jarred him completely awake, and he urged him, "Tim? You alright?"
"Uh, yeah," Tim said. "Look uh, Riley's here."
His heart sank.
"She is?" he asked lowly. "Why?"
"Ah, we bumped into each other out on the beach," he said, and Logan could tell he was drunk. He set his jaw, and his friend continued, "Long story."
Logan thought on that statement, grinding his teeth slowly, absent-mindedly, and waiting for Timothy to elaborate: needing him to.
Tim was his good friend, but he wasn't exactly in a committed relationship, and Riley was so enticing. The thought that they'd been drinking together didn't exactly fill Logan with comfort.
"I was going to just bring her by in the morning but I figured I should let you know so you're not worried."
"I'm not her parent, Tim," Logan snapped.
"No," Tim said, his tone genuine as he continued, "you're her husband."
Logan thought about that. He WAS her husband, but he wasn't her keeper. But if he really believed that, then why did he feel so guilty right now?
"I just thought since, you know, she was out in the water. I mean," he stuttered, and Logan cursed his friend's inability to stay sober on a Friday night. "And I found her locked out on the porch, just sitting in the rain, man."
"She wasn't locked out," he snipped. "What do you mean she was out in the water?"
"Just swimming," was all Tim relayed. "In the rain," he then enunciated. "It was weird, man."
Tim wasn't the brightest, Logan thought to himself, but he was right. The waters were choppy and rough out here during a storm. Riley could have drowned.
“Is she okay?” he asked.
“She was crying earlier,” Tim said, his
tone the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
“What did she say?”
“Ah, I don’t know man. She said you guys were fighting, but she didn’t know what about. Said you were being a dick.”
“And I’m sure those are the exact words she used,” Logan scoffed.
The line went quiet for a minute and then Tim piped up, “Nah. But, I know you well enough to read between the lines. She thinks you’ve got something going on with Stephania.”
“With…” Logan drew his brows together in a furious scowl, utterly puzzled as he repeated, “With Stephania? Why would I have anything to do with her?”
“I may have told her Stephania’s back on the island,” he said, sounding soberer now: clearer.
“I didn’t know that,” Logan said with irritation.
“Ah, well, she thinks you do.”
“Thanks,” Logan snapped. "Is she awake?"
"Nah," Tim whispered. "No. She's on my couch."
"Then..." Logan paused. "Then let her sleep, and I'll get her in the morning."
"Okay, man," Tim said sloppily. "Night."
Logan hung up the phone and felt anger and anxiety bubble up in his core. He lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, unsure how to proceed. He looked over at the clock.
Three-oh-nine.
He could technically sleep another four or five hours and then go pick her up at a more reasonable hour. That was what he planned to do... but the longer he lay there, the more annoyed he became.
Logan sat up and whipped his pajamas onto the ground, throwing on an old band t-shirt and a pair of tight jeans. He let out a long sigh and threw on a hoodie, pulling up the hood to protect himself from the still immense rain as he walked down the cold beach toward his friend’s house.
It was pointless to drive over considering the distance.
Never in all of his life had he ever chased a girl down, especially not one that he was furious with.
He reached Timothy's door and could see the fireplace was still on through the four-square window. He slipped in the back door, commonly left unlocked, which led right into open concept kitchen and living room. He saw Riley on the couch with a wooly blanket draped over her and felt even angrier when he saw the bottle of whiskey and shot glasses on the table in front of her.