maybe Logan is something more. My imagination is pretty damn active, and I can conjure up plenty of ideas even though I know I’m probably way off base but…something about him pulls me in as if there’s a greater force at work here. Something other .
The sun is shining when I awake, and Logan is draped over me possessively, his arm around my waist, leg thrown over mine, and his other arm beneath my pillow. I turn and face him. He looks younger when he’s asleep. More vulnerable.
He’s such a puzzle to me. I feel as if I’ve found all the pieces. Now the hard part is putting them together and learning what makes him tick. Am I going to get the chance? I cringe at the thought. After reading his email I’m more torn than I have ever been in my life about what to do. He’s leaving soon. And he lives so far away. Will I ever see him again? There’s so much to consider with Logan. But I want him. Oh God, do I want him. My heart speeds at the thought.
I want to learn everything about him. I want to know him better than anyone ever has. I want a chance with him. That’s all. Just one chance to fall in love with him. I feel the beginnings of it. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been before, and I want it with every fiber of my being. But can I love a man who hides his true self from me? Can I honestly let myself fall for someone who, in all likelihood, has betrayed me?
My vision blurs, causing me to blink rapidly to hold the tears back, but one leaks onto my cheek and weaves a wet trail to my chin, where it dangles and falls onto Logan’s waiting finger. His eyes are open, and he’s staring back at me.
He shifts toward me, removing all distance between us, and kisses each cheek and the tip of my nose before sliding down to my lips, where he brushes his over mine. His kiss is tender and reassuring. He lingers afterward and then kisses me again. His tongue brushes up against mine, and I dissolve into his strong arms.
“Don’t cry, mo mhuirnín . This is only the beginning. Not the end.” He leans down and plants tiny kisses all over my face.
“How did you know?” My voice is scratchy as I fight to hold my tears back. I’m trying so hard not to let my emotions take over. I take a deep breath, and when I release it, I feel more in control. More myself. He looks me in the eye and nods.
“I can see it in your eyes. Just enjoy yourself. Quit worrying, yeah?” His thumb is stroking my cheek, and I lean my face into his hand. “Okay,” I reply.
I look up into his warm eyes, “You’ve said that before. Mo mhuirnín. What language is it? And what does it mean?” I sigh as my body further melts into his relaxing touch.
“It’s a Gaelic endearment.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of how to word his response. I feel his shoulders shrug, and then he answers, “Roughly translated, it means ‘my darling,’ or ‘dear one’.”
We spend the rest of the day hiking on some local trails and conversing about anything and everything regarding our lives, family, and friends. This trip has really brought us closer to one another, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness as the day fades into night and I know I’m going to have to confront him about what I read on his computer.
We’re going home tomorrow…and to be honest, I don’t know what that means for our relationship, but I know I have to talk to him on the way home. I deserve the truth, and for once, he’s going to give it to me.
Logan finishes loading up our suitcases and then takes his place in the driver’s seat. He’s been quiet all morning. My thoughts are a little jumbled, and I can’t find the courage to ask him about the emails. I stretch and pull out a book to read during the trip home to avoid any awkward silence. My attention is pulled between enjoying my time with Logan and worrying about the lack of it in the future. I try to let it all go and escape into my book, but it’s not working, and I’m getting
The sun is shining when I awake, and Logan is draped over me possessively, his arm around my waist, leg thrown over mine, and his other arm beneath my pillow. I turn and face him. He looks younger when he’s asleep. More vulnerable.
He’s such a puzzle to me. I feel as if I’ve found all the pieces. Now the hard part is putting them together and learning what makes him tick. Am I going to get the chance? I cringe at the thought. After reading his email I’m more torn than I have ever been in my life about what to do. He’s leaving soon. And he lives so far away. Will I ever see him again? There’s so much to consider with Logan. But I want him. Oh God, do I want him. My heart speeds at the thought.
I want to learn everything about him. I want to know him better than anyone ever has. I want a chance with him. That’s all. Just one chance to fall in love with him. I feel the beginnings of it. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been before, and I want it with every fiber of my being. But can I love a man who hides his true self from me? Can I honestly let myself fall for someone who, in all likelihood, has betrayed me?
My vision blurs, causing me to blink rapidly to hold the tears back, but one leaks onto my cheek and weaves a wet trail to my chin, where it dangles and falls onto Logan’s waiting finger. His eyes are open, and he’s staring back at me.
He shifts toward me, removing all distance between us, and kisses each cheek and the tip of my nose before sliding down to my lips, where he brushes his over mine. His kiss is tender and reassuring. He lingers afterward and then kisses me again. His tongue brushes up against mine, and I dissolve into his strong arms.
“Don’t cry, mo mhuirnín . This is only the beginning. Not the end.” He leans down and plants tiny kisses all over my face.
“How did you know?” My voice is scratchy as I fight to hold my tears back. I’m trying so hard not to let my emotions take over. I take a deep breath, and when I release it, I feel more in control. More myself. He looks me in the eye and nods.
“I can see it in your eyes. Just enjoy yourself. Quit worrying, yeah?” His thumb is stroking my cheek, and I lean my face into his hand. “Okay,” I reply.
I look up into his warm eyes, “You’ve said that before. Mo mhuirnín. What language is it? And what does it mean?” I sigh as my body further melts into his relaxing touch.
“It’s a Gaelic endearment.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of how to word his response. I feel his shoulders shrug, and then he answers, “Roughly translated, it means ‘my darling,’ or ‘dear one’.”
We spend the rest of the day hiking on some local trails and conversing about anything and everything regarding our lives, family, and friends. This trip has really brought us closer to one another, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness as the day fades into night and I know I’m going to have to confront him about what I read on his computer.
We’re going home tomorrow…and to be honest, I don’t know what that means for our relationship, but I know I have to talk to him on the way home. I deserve the truth, and for once, he’s going to give it to me.
Logan finishes loading up our suitcases and then takes his place in the driver’s seat. He’s been quiet all morning. My thoughts are a little jumbled, and I can’t find the courage to ask him about the emails. I stretch and pull out a book to read during the trip home to avoid any awkward silence. My attention is pulled between enjoying my time with Logan and worrying about the lack of it in the future. I try to let it all go and escape into my book, but it’s not working, and I’m getting
Similar Books
