Wrecked Book 4 by Rachel Hanna Page B

completely ignored his words. Eventually, he would have to let these things go. He ’ d have to accept that I was walking away from him.
    For good, I silently promised myself.
    I noticed silence as the footstep echoing stopped. “ You can ’ t just run away from this, Addy! ” Logan called after me, but his voice was already getting fainter. My pace was quick, and I was determined to make sure I drove my position home.
    Can ’ t run from this? I thought to myself. Watch me.
     
    I walked home in a state of numb exhaustion mixed in with a little bit of panic and shock. Addy, I love you . What was he thinking? Did he honestly believe that we could be in love? No, this was clearly some sort of emotional bond developed because of sex … At least, that was what it was for me. It was my first time and it was chemical, for me. I wanted to be around him all of the time, because he was my first and I felt a need to be close to the man I felt for enough to be with.
    But chemical reactions didn ’ t make things like love between two people. It was about time and bonding and finding common ground. None of which we ’ d really done, right? The moments we ’ d had together were fleeting, passing. We spent more of the time knowing each other pitted against each other, deliberately attempting to be apart or … well, at least I spent most of my time knowing him trying to stay the hell away from him.
    And for him? It wasn ’ t love, it was probably some sort of game to him. He thought it was funny that I tried so hard to stay away from him — and continuously failed, I admitted to myself miserably — which made him feel compelled to keep trying.
    That was it. No love. No deep, meaningful, spend the rest of our lives together feelings. Just a mixture of biology and physical attraction.
    All of this sounded very reasonable in my head as I walked determinedly down the sidewalk towards home. I didn ’ t look back, keeping my gaze forward.
    The problem was, I wasn ’ t feeling reasonable, even if I was thinking along those lines. Inside, I felt like a hot mess. My heart was beating erratically, begging me to go back and tell him that it was all a big mistake. Really, I did want him and need him and I was stupid for constantly being so dead set on pushing him as far away from me as possible.
    And while I knew that I couldn ’ t give into these things, I really, really wanted to. It was all I wanted to do — except for get home and even that would be better with Logan next to me. I wanted him in my room and in my bed. I wanted to repeat our night of passion and wrap myself up in him until I had no room left to think.
    Which was exactly why I wasn ’ t letting my feet slow down, nor could I afford even the briefest lapse of looking back.
    It was too risky.
    So I walked along the sidewalk, my shoes make a soft echoing sound against the uneven pavement. Above me, an archway of trees followed me creating a canopy that was toned in dark oranges and brush strokes of red. Fall was hitting us hard, so close that I could smell pumpkin spice and apple cider in the air. Soon, Halloween would hit us and parties would abound. We ’ d be in November before any of us even had a chance to blink, and I ’ d be awash with midterms.
    A welcome distraction at this point.
    I wondered how Miranda was doing with her transition, her transferring mid-term, and all the catch up it had to entail. My gut churned with the memory of that moment I saw her standing there with Lexie, walking and talking as though they were the best of friends.
    Oh, what a mess that was going to be.
    Once, I ’ d been courteous enough to consider Lexie a friend, or at least a likable acquaintance that I was more than happy to have included in our circle of friends. But the more I learned of her, the less I liked her.
    I always knew she was a bit of a party girl — though I had a feeling that I had no idea just how much of a party girl she was — and I knew that she was a