With a huff, I gripped the covers that were half covering my face, resisting the urge to peer over at him. “I’m not a child!”

“Considering your actions last night, I may beg to differ.”

That was it. I wanted him out. I didn’t care that his mere presence left me strangely aroused, or that despite everything, I still longed to be in his arms. He needed to get out.

I tore the blanket off my body—which was covered only in pink lace panties—and climbed out of bed. Swallowing down the nausea the fast movement brought up and with one hand covering my breasts, I pointed to my bedroom door with the other.

“Get the hell out of my house, Logan!”

He stood, eyes on mine and not once straying down my body. He must’ve had a good-enough look while undressing me already.

“No. Now lie back down before you hurt yourself.”

I only saw red. “What is your problem? Why are you still here? Take a hint already!” I balled my free hand into a fist, calming myself. “You know what? Ah! Never mind. I already know why you’re here.” I tilted my head to the side. “It’s called guilt. Well, don’t sweat it—I survived.”

He stalked toward me, standing a few feet directly in front of me with a tight jaw and hard eyes.

“I fucked up with you. It’s the biggest regret I’ve ever had, and I endure it every second of every damn day. But I will not stand by and watch you act out like you did last night, getting drunk and nearly passing out in the shitty ten-degree weather. No, that’s not happening, because whether you want to believe it or not, I care about you. I have ever since that damned carnival, and I’m not going to let you hurt yourself because you can’t deal with how you feel about me.”

“Feel about you?” I hissed. “You are such an egotistical ass! I thought you were done—walking away for good!”

“Turns out no matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out of my head. That leaves only one choice: you will get over yourself and let me in!”

“Let you in?” I barked, laughing manically. “I did, and you treated me like dirt the moment it got rough!”

“Fuck!” he roared. “You will forgive me, God damn it! You can’t stay mad at me forever. I won’t allow it.”

“And I won’t let you make a fool of me twice!”

“I won’t! Don’t you get it!? I can’t get you out of my head, Cassandra. Just give me a chance. Tell me you’re mine.”

I inhaled through my nostrils, wanting him to see, to understand.

“Listen to yourself. Two weeks! It’s been two weeks. So you tell me—is that all you think it takes to earn my forgiveness, my trust, and my love? I was with Mark for five years, loyal to a fault, and yet I’m unable to forgive him, so why should I forgive you?”

His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out, palm cradling my cheek. “Because unlike Mark, I know how precious you are.”

“Yet you walked away this morning,” I interrupted.

His shoulders fell, hand dropping away. “Today I…”

His expression was pained, his words hesitant. “I came back. That’s what matters.” Everything in him shifted back to the confident man I knew as he continued.

“No! You still walked away because I’m not ready. And I’ll never be ready. I know I’ve been hard on you, doing everything I can to force you to see that I’m nothing special, not worth your time. But it’s because I can’t go back to where we were that night. It should never have happened. We should have stayed friends and never tried—”

“No! I’ll regret that night for the rest of my life, but not us taking a chance. That was the best thing we did. I want to know everything about you, hear your voice every morning and every night. I will never risk losing you again. I can’t sleep thinking of you alone in this house, so close yet so far away. I know you’re scared, and I know it’s only been a couple weeks. I don’t expect you to crawl into bed with me and let me claim you as mine. I’m only asking that you stop pushing me away.”

My eyes closed. “Logan, I don’t know who I am right now,” I managed, my breath ragged. “My head’s all screwed up, and I don’t want to hurt you, but seeing you tears me up. I don’t know what I feel for you anymore, or if I even feel anything at all.”

“Don’t lie to me. It’s easy to see the effect I have on you.”

I attempted to push back, furious at myself that he was right, that I was so weak. But he grabbed my forearms and ran his hands back up my cheeks, cradling my face in his hands again.

“As well as the incredible effect you have on me. I can’t even describe it, the way you make me feel…so alive…so hungry for life, for you, for love. It’s all so new to me, but I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you. It fucking kills me every night, thinking about what I said to you.”

Logan dropped his hands away and stepped back, standing in silence for a long moment, his brows drawn low in thought. I didn’t speak either as I watched him, my rage dying down as my heart broke all over again. We were shattered—both of us.

With soft eyes and a strained hoarse voice, he continued. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you.” His voice was lost in his throat. He swallowed, his face torn, and placed his hands on my forearms, which I took comfort in against all rational thought. “Cassandra, I want a chance to make this right. Not because of guilt, but because I lo—”

“Don’t.” I spoke quickly, surprising myself, but I couldn’t hear it. “Don’t you dare say those words to me.” I sat back on my bed with a slow grace.

Logan dipped down in front of my knees and pulled the blanket up from behind me. Tiny goose bumps flared over my body. His thumb caressed my bare back for the briefest moment when he pulled it over my shoulders, and I leaned into it. It felt so good, but the pain associated with his touch seared my heart. Tears sprung from my eyes, and I dropped my head into my hands.

“Shhh, please…don’t cry, sweetheart.”

I sobbed harder. His arm wrapped around me, the bed shifting with his weight beside me. I didn’t fight him when he pulled me to his chest. I couldn’t fight it, and in that moment, I didn’t want to.

The world around me faded away, leaving me with only my tears and his closeness.

I didn’t know how much time passed—seconds, minutes, perhaps hours—before my tears slowed and my breathing finally came easier. His hand ran through my hair, providing comfort only he could offer. His sweet voice soothed me, assuring me that I’d be all right—that we’d be all right.

I lay there numb in his arms, snuggling in his lap, my head tucked into the nape of his neck. His skin was so warm and inviting, I couldn’t resist inhaling his intoxicating masculinity. Before I could tell myself to stop and that it was dangerous to go there, my lips were on him. Defenseless to his body speaking to mine, they brushed lightly across his neck and back again, where I placed a small lingering kiss under his chin.

He didn’t move or say a word, but from the way his hand stilled mid-caress on my back, I knew he felt it—felt the hope I held onto that one day I could forgive him, that there might still be a possibility for us to share a love so powerful it could erase my pain, insecurities, and distrust; a love that could wipe away the past. But for now, it wasn’t there. A shred of hope was all I had to give.