I Love You, I Hate You Part 2 A second Chance Romance (Broken Love Book 3)

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I Love You, I Hate You Part 2 A second Chance Romance (Broken Love Book 3) Page 5

by Bailey B


  He shakes his head, avoiding eye contact. “Nope. I’m good.”

  “I thought you would be traveling or something,” Logan adds. “Walter would periodically say ‘who knows where she is these days’ so I assumed you were.”

  I force a chuckle, hoping it sounds playful because I want my next question to come out light but I’m dying to know the answer. “How often did you ask about me?”

  “All the fucking time,” Piper guffaws.

  I turn to Logan, who shrugs and brings his water to his lips, but his cheeks are red. I stare at him, dumbfounded. He asked about me? I knew he would at first, but I expected Logan to move on and forget about me. Is this why Piper said sleeping with Logan would be easy?

  “Did you ever ask about me?” he wonders aloud.

  A noose tightens around my throat. Did I ever ask about Logan? No, because I knew if I did I wouldn’t move on. Not that I did a great job of moving on to begin with. My dating life is non-existent and I’m straddling the stalker line when it comes to Piper's social media, searching for any picture of Logan. But if I admit that I never asked, it’ll hurt Logan’s feelings. “Every now and then.”

  Awkward silence falls across the table, the weight of Logan’s disappointment heavy like a wet blanket over all of us. After a few seconds that feel like hours, Rex breaks the tension. “How much longer do you have, Cooper?”

  “On leave?”

  Rex shakes his head. “Of your enlistment. After the incident in Toronto, I’ve been talking to Piper about hiring a bodyguard. She hates the idea but I might have better luck of it if you’re the guy we hire.”

  “What happened in Toronto?” Logan asks at the same time Piper says, “I’m right here. I can hear you.”

  “Another year and a half.” A waiter takes Cooper’s salad from in front of him. Once all of our plates are cleared, he continues, “I don’t know what I’m going to do after that, though.”

  “I’m telling you,” Rex pauses to thank the waiter as a new plate with the main course is set in front of him. When the guy has passed, he adds, “You’re fucking huge. When you’re ready, hit me up. I know plenty of people that would pay to have you in their corner.”

  “Is no one going to tell me what happened to Piper last week?” Logan asks again.

  Piper rolls her eyes. “It was nothing. Just some drunk fan on the wrong side of the arena who wanted to talk shit.”

  “And he pushed you!” Rex exclaims. “I almost got benched because of that fucker.”

  Piper’s jaw drops. “No. You almost got benched because you tried to jump the plexiglass. Again.”

  “That fucker needed to know not to touch my woman,” Rex growls. “I mean, really. Who pushes a pregnant chick?”

  Piper shakes her head, leans over and pats Rex's cheek. “You’re such a caveman.”

  “But I’m your caveman.” Rex turns, planting a wet kiss on Piper’s lips.

  “And my appetite is gone.” Logan stands, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and extends his hand, palm up. “Dance with me.”

  Like a reflex, I place my hand in Logan’s. My head fogs, memories swirling. “I thought your dance skills were reserved for moonlight serenades?”

  His lip lifts into a sad smile as he tugs me to my feet. “What can I say? I adjusted my dancing requirements.” His words shoot straight to my heart. There’s a flicker of pain that crosses his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. His lips stretch wider, into an exaggerated smile. “Come one, Dani. It’s one dance.”

  I let him guide us around tables to the empty dance floor. I’m pretty sure no one is supposed to be dancing right now, but at this point I don’t care. “Last time we did this, everything changed between us.”

  Logan spins me once, then pulls me tight against his body. He brushes the tip of his nose across my cheek, sending a shiver through me. “I don’t think I’ll be so lucky this time.”

  I turn my head, resting my ear against Logan’s shoulder. His heart is racing, probably because of all the alcohol he’s drunk, but I’d like to think he’s excited to hold me again. I close my eyes, knowing people are watching but not giving a damn. The song ends too quickly and we stop moving. I forgot how right it felt to be in his arms. How the world and all of my worries and doubts fade away until there’s nothing but us.

  I look up into Logan’s eyes, hoping he’ll kiss me. I’m still on the fence about this whole sleep-together-to-get-over-him idea, but maybe if he still sends that earth shattering jolt of lust through me with his kiss, I can do it. Logan’s head dips a fraction of an inch. He exhales a strained breath then takes a step back, still holding my hand. “I promised you one dance.”

  “I don’t mind another.” I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this, putting myself out there. This whole time I thought I hated Logan, and maybe I do, but I think I finally understand that saying about how there’s a fine line between love and hate. I don’t love Logan, at least not like I used to, but I’m not sure I hate him, either. I think I’m standing on that line, where nothing and everything makes sense at the same time.

  “We should probably go back to the table.” Logan looks over my shoulder. “Piper and Rex have already sat back down and Mom is giving us the stink eye.”

  I was so lost in Logan's arms, I didn’t realize that they’d gotten up and danced with us too. There’s enough space to fit two people between us now and I feel surprisingly cold without Logan’s body against mine. I want to feel him again. All of him. Tiny tremors vibrate through me. I’m really going to do this, sleep with Logan tonight. Oh, God. I think I need a drink.

  12

  Danika

  “There’s my baby girl!” Dad exclaims, waltzing over with his new bride at his side. He throws his arms out, pulling me into a hug, rocking me side to side. Outside of our weekly FaceTime calls—and obviously this weekend—I haven’t seen him since I left. He refuses to come to Georgia, saying it’s too hard, and up until now, I’ve refused to come to Florida—citing his same excuse.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  He pulls back from the embrace, hands on my biceps and grins. After a moment, his hands drop and side steps, making room for Mama T, I mean Tessa, to lean in. My stomach churns as soon as she touches me. I keep my arms at my sides, making this the most uncomfortable hug of all time. Tessa gives up on the embrace and glances at my father. “Hun, do you think I could have a few moments alone with Danika?”

  “Of course.” Dad kisses the side of Tessa’s head then squeezes my shoulder. I’ve never expressed my dislike for Tessa to him. Anything he may have picked up on was straight from the horse herself.

  “I think we should talk,” Tessa says as soon as Dad is out of earshot. She sidesteps to the corner of the room, expecting me to follow. When I don’t, she sighs and comes back to where I’m standing. “I think we got off on the wrong foot all those years ago.”

  I cross my arms and narrow my eyes on her. I’ve had nightmares about this woman. Legit nightmares about Logan when he was a kid and how she sat back and let his abuse happen. Tessa is a coward for not stopping her husband’s beatings. An idiot for not believing him when he told her about Dr. Shaffer’s molestation. But it’s her heartlessness, her ability to chalk Logan’s distress up as nothing more than dramatics, that makes me physically sick.

  And angry.

  So.

  So.

  Angry.

  I take a step forward, making both of us uncomfortable by how little personal space we have. “No. I got to see the real you. The one who picked favorites and put herself before her hurting son. You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and I can’t for the life of me find the redeeming qualities that my father sees in you.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” Tessa sniffs back fake tears, expecting my sympathy, but I have nothing for her but disdain. “You’re not a mother. You don't know what it’s like to give every bit of yourself to someone else. I had three someone elses to take care of. I could only do so much.”


  Don’t I though? Don’t I know what it’s like to give everything you have to a child who constantly needs more?

  I can’t fault Tessa for not knowing about Molly. She’s my beautiful secret I plan to keep as far from this evil woman as possible. Tessa would probably kill Molly, not on purpose, but because she’s so damn ignorant. “That’s not an excuse.”

  Tessa presses her lips into a tight line and exhales through her nose. I can see her losing her patience with me and this conversation because I’m not buying her bullshit excuse. “Look, Danika, you don’t have to like me but you have to respect me. Logan has moved past what’s happened to him. He’s doing better and has forgiven me.”

  Logan does look better, but Ryan says he’s a mess, and I’m more inclined to believe him than this pathetic excuse of a woman. I smile sarcastically and tilt my head to the right. “I’m so glad Logan has moved on from his neglect.”

  Tessa’s neck and ears turn a shade of red that makes me oddly happy. I don’t care that this is her special day. She should be embarrassed about her parenting skills. “I get it. You hate me, but after today we are family.”

  “No.” I hold up my finger silencing her. We are more related than she realizes. Her blood, her stupid, selfish, ignorant blood, runs through my daughter, but even that doesn’t make Tessa family in my book. “Just because you’re marrying my dad and changing your last name doesn't change anything to me. If I knew of a word stronger than hate, I’d use it, but I don’t. Make no mistake, Tessa. I hate you. You aren’t my step mother.” Even if she is evil. “You’re just the bitch who lured my dad into her bed and conned him into giving her a ring.”

  13

  Logan

  “Let’s play a game,” Danika says a little too enthusiastically. She holds her hand up, signaling one of the waiters who swiftly crosses the room to us. “I need…” She whisper-counts how many people are at the table then says, “Twelve. No. Wait, ten. Never mind, make it twelve shots, please.”

  “Shots of what?” the waiter asks.

  “Don’t care. Just shots.”

  I drape my arm on the back of Danika’s chair and lean closer. It’s been hard keeping my hands to myself since dancing with her a few hours ago. Having her in my arms awoke something I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  Longing.

  This almost painful feeling that’s only satisfied when my skin touches hers. Only, Danika is like heroin, each touch makes me crave the next and always leaves me wanting more. I carried her in my arms last night and was fine, but swaying to the music, her body pressed against mine, her heart or perhaps mine thundering against my chest, changed everything. The more I think about my plan of fucking her into next Tuesday and walking away, the more flawed I realize it is.

  Sure, she may end up thinking about me after this weekend and if I’m lucky I’ll make a lasting impression. But I can already tell, I’m going to be the one fucked over again.

  It’s inevitable.

  I won’t be able to let her go.

  I’m still going to do it.

  However, I can’t bring myself to sleep with Danika if she’s shit faced. From the way she handled her liquor last night and her horrible plan to play a drinking game, tonight may already be a lost cause.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “Trust me,” she giggles, her brown eyes bright and heavy all at once.

  “Hun,” Piper says with a motherly-smile, the kind that’s going to rock her kid’s world because it says I-love-you-but you’re-an-idiot at the same time. “I’m not in the mood for shots.”

  The waiter sets a tray of what looks like clear vodka in front of Danika. He doesn’t bother to remove the shot glasses and set them on the table. He just leaves them on the white platter and walks away.

  Danika hands each of us two, bypassing Piper, and keeps the extras near the center of the table. “I wasn’t planning on giving you any.” She shakes her head, giggling again, and I have a feeling these shots are going to send her over the edge.

  “Never have I ever slept with someone and regretted it.” Danika looks around the table, waiting for someone to pick up their tiny glass. When no one makes a move, she arches her brows expectantly at Sarah.

  “Oh, fine.” Sarah tosses her shot back grimaces. “That tastes like hell.”

  Cooper drinks his shot and so Piper doesn’t start naming off people I should regret sleeping with, I drink mine, too.

  “Never have I ever kept a secret others should know,” Sarah says then silently curses and takes her other shot. “Shit. I’m out.”

  I take my last one too because I should have spoken up sooner about what happened with Dr. Shaffer, although I don't think anyone is shocked to see me drink. I am surprised to see Danika take her shot. “Care to enlighten us on what your big secret is?”

  Danika shakes her head. “No, sir-E, Bob. My lips are sealed.”

  I chuckle and slide her last shot towards the center of the table. Sex is probably out of the cards tonight but maybe I can keep her from puking. “Let’s call it a night, beautiful. You’re wasted.”

  “Am not,” Danika pouts. “But I am a little wobbly. Walk me to my room?”

  “Sure.” I stand and pull back her chair. She attempts to rise to her feet and loses her balance almost immediately. I grasp onto her waist, steadying her as she reaches for the table. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I will be.” Danika bends over and reaches down to her foot. “As soon as I get these wretched heels off.”

  14

  Danika

  I’m not drunk. Okay. That might be a lie, but I’m not wasted. I know what I’m doing. I think.

  Logan pushes the elevator button, the tiny circle lights up red as we wait. Each second that ticks by is a lifetime. My heart thuds in my ears, drowning out my ragged breaths.

  “Did you know the Horizon Hotel has a glass elevator?”

  I shake my head. I’ve never been in a glass elevator. I bet the Horizon people built it to overlook the ocean as it goes up to some ungodly expensive penthouse no one but the Pope can afford. “Really? Where?”

  Silver-plated double doors slide open. “It’s on the other side of the hotel. You should ask Piper to take you for a ride before checkout tomorrow. The view is beautiful.”

  We step inside and nineties-contemporary music steals the conversation. My skin crawls, the silence allowing my brain to micro analyze what we’re (hopefully) about to do. I can't let my mind talk me out of this. It’s today or never. “The ceremony downstairs was nice.”

  “I guess.”

  My gaze follows Logan’s hands as they settle in his pockets, and then it lingers on his zipper. The elevator buzzes once, letting us know we’ve passed the first floor. I snap my eyes up, cheeks burning hotter than the sun.

  “I can tell you renting the ballroom the past two nights cost Walter over ten grand and that’s before food.”

  “Holy crap that’s expensive!” I can’t imagine spending so much money on a venue and that might not include the ceremony rentals. “If I ever get married, I’m going to the courthouse.”

  “Oh yeah,” Logan guffaws. “I never pegged you for a justice of peace kinda girl.”

  “Weddings are stupid expensive. If we—” Shit! Hopefully he didn’t catch that. “I ever got married, it would be a tiny ceremony with like five people. Then I’d spend that money on the honeymoon of all honeymoons, traveling the world for two or so weeks. Afterwards, I’d have a celebrational cookout and that would be that.”

  Our elevator buzzes again., the doors opening. Hard to believe we’re on our floor already. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”

  Only because I spent too many nights wondering what could have been. I thought I had all of the what-if’s out of my system, but then that damned wedding invitation came. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about what I would have done had this been our wedding or what our life could be. “This is me.”

  Logan lo
oks at my door, brows drawn together. “So it is.”

  We stand in the hallway, awkward tension growing between us with each passing second. I’ve never had a one night stand and while Logan and I have history, that’s essentially what this is. I don’t know how to do it.

  “You’ve got an ocean view room?” he asks.

  “Yeah!” That came out louder than I’d hoped. Logan chuckles and I fight the urge to hide my face in my hands. I can save this. “Want to see it?”

  “Sure.” He doesn’t seem excited. Why isn’t he excited to come into my room? Doesn’t he know “look at the view” is code for sleeping with me? Breathe, Danika.

  I pull my room key from between my tits and wipe the boob sweat on the side of my dress. I smile, hoping Logan didn’t notice and swipe it through the card reader. I hold the door open for him to walk in first. The curtains are drawn so he has to go all the way into the room to see the view. I close the door, silently cursing this stoneage hotel for not having locks on their doors.

  “Do you mind?” I walk to the center of the room and turn my back to Logan. “This dress is itchy.”

  “Sure.” Logan’s voice cracks, which has to be the hottest thing he’s done this weekend. I still make him nervous. He sets one hand on my hip. The other grasps onto my zipper. He slides it down my back, painfully slow. Every inch of my satin corset is exposed. Logan grunts, letting his hands fall from my body and takes a step back. “Done.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be just a minute.” My heart could burst from my chest. It's beating so hard. I need this minute, not to change but to take a deep breath. “Don’t leave.”

  I close the door and drop my dress to the floor. Stepping in front of the mirror, I look at myself. My tits are overflowing out of the strapless bustier Sarah tied me into. It’s not hard to get out of, a few clasps and ties in the back, but hopefully it’s too complicated for Logan’s one track mind. I’d rather him not see my stomach and start asking questions.

 

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