Chapter 309

Megan

“What’s up?” I ask Mark as he sits down next to me.

“Why are you here with him? Is this a date?” he asks.

“Wow, straight to the point, no, it’s not a date, it’s just drinks.”

“You’re drunk,”

“No, I’m tipsy; there’s a difference,” I answer him. He looks good tonight, not as good as Logan, but good. He’s wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He looks like an ad for Ralph Lauren. “You look good, by the way,” I then look at the table he came from to see a girl watching us. “Is that your date? She’s pretty,”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” I ask.

“Why aren’t you jealous that I’m here with someone else?” he asks.

“Because I don’t own you, we’re not a couple. You’re free to screw whoever you want,” I explain.

“I don’t want to screw anyone else,”

“Ok, then,” I say and pat his leg. “Good for you,”

“You’re not listening,” he says. I frown and look at him. He then presses his lips to mine. I frown and push him away from me. “I only want you,”

“No, not going to happen,” I say, and he glares at me now.

“Let’s go back to mine,”

“No,”

“Megan,”

“I told you what this is between us. Why are you trying to make it something more? If you want more, find someone else,” I tell him, and he glares at me. “I don’t want a relationship,”

“Because of him,” he snaps. I shake my head and look down. “I know he hurt you, and that’s why you won’t let me in,” I sigh.

“I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

“Well, when? You won’t even try with me,” he states. “I get it; because of him, you think love sucks. Do you think being here with him is going to change the way he treated you?” he asks me.

“Mark, just go back to your table. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” he asks. “It’s obvious,” he then sighs and strokes his fingers through my hair and down to my neck along the scar that Jonathon left. “He did this,” he moves his hand over my shoulder to my back, “and these, didn’t he?” he asks.

“No, he didn’t,”

“You don’t need to defend him. It happens all the time with girls when they meet an older man,” he states.

“Oh, really?” Logan asks. I look at him. I’d never even seen him come back. He sits down and glares at Mark. “You don’t  know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, I do. I can see you have this hold over her,” he states, and Logan smiles, making Mark angrier.

“Do I now?” Logan asks, amusement clear in his eyes.

“Stop it, both of you,” I snap. Mark glares at Logan before looking at me. “Logan does not have some abusive hold on me. He would never hurt me; my scars aren’t from him. They’re from someone else that Logan helped me escape from. Go back to your table, Mark,” I then turn to Logan. “And you, wipe that cocky smirk off your face. You’re both acting like children. I’m not a toy,” I fume.

“Then who,” I cut Mark off.

“Go back to your table, or so help me god, I will throat punch you,” I threaten. He sighs, and he looks so defeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, well tonight,” I say, noticing that the large clock on the wall says it’s just after 1AM. “We can talk,” I add, and he nods.

“Ok,” he says and gets up to leave. I look at Logan to see him smile a little and then look at me.

“You’re going to break his heart,” he says to me once Mark is out of earshot. “He wants more than what you’re offering.”

“I know,”

“Can’t say I blame him,” he says and sips his drink. I sigh and lean back against the backrest. “Is what he said true?” Logan asks. I look at him to see he’s watching me. His blue eyes cloud in a storm of guilt. “Have you shut people out because of me?”

“I was shutting people out before you,” I say to him.

“I thought you would have fallen in love with someone else.”

“I have; Ella is my love,”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I did hurt you, you opened yourself to love me, and I took it from you.”

I smile a little and move closer to him, resting my hand on his cheek. I make him look at me.

“You did, but you gave me so much more with Ella,” I tell him. He looks down as he strokes my arm, “Logan,” I say.

“I want to kiss you, and I don’t care who sees,” he cuts in. I don’t have time to think about that as his lips press against mine. This is unlike the last kiss we shared. That one was full of lust and desperation. This is full of so much more; it’s longing, love, passion and heat.

My arms move around his neck as he pulls me closer to him. His tongue caresses over mine, and the taste of whiskey and orange fills my mouth. The butterflies are back and flying up a storm as I feel his tongue piercing glide over my tongue. I moan in the kiss as the thought of his tongue somewhere else floods my mind.

I pull back as I feel myself get more turned on at the feel of his body against mine. His hand moves down my body to my hip as his other stays in my hair.

“We should leave,” I whisper in his ear as he kisses my neck and then my ear, his hot mouth licking and biting at the sensitive part below my ear.

“I want you, Megan, I always fucking want you,” he growls in my ear, making my core clench.

“I want you too,” I admit. It’s not the right thing to do. None of this is. I should push him away, protect myself and my heart, but I can’t. I love him; as much as I don’t want to, I do after all this time.

Pulling away, he downs his drink; I finish mine off and stand up with him. Logan pulls me to him and moves his arm around my shoulders. I place my bag on my shoulder and walk with him towards the bar. The barman hands Logan a piece of paper; I watch as he signs it and then gives the other part back and pockets the other. The barman hands Logan his card, and then we walk out of the bar.

The cold spring air hits me like a ton of bricks. I shiver and curse myself for not coming out with a jacket. Even after three years of living here, I forget it’s not like California; they have very different seasons here. Logan moves his arm from around me and takes his jacket off to wrap it around me. I smile a little and move my arms into the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“We’ll get a taxi, I thought we’d walk, but I don’t want you to freeze,” he says as he moves his arm around my waist.

“No, it’s ok, we can walk; I’ll warm up,” I tell him and move my hand into his. “Unless you’re cold,”

“I’m fine,” he says with a slight smirk and pulls me close to him as we walk towards my home. “I want to ask you something,” he says.

“Go on,” I say

“Why hasn’t Ella called me dad yet?” he asks, and he looks a little uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure. We call you Daddy to her all the time; we never say your name in front of her. It has only been two weeks; give her time,” I tell him.

“Yeah, I know. Is it sad that I can’t wait to have her call me that?”

“No, I couldn’t wait for the first time she called me mom, granted she said it whenever she wanted food,” I say with a small laugh.

“Did you breastfeed?” he asks.

“Yeah, I could only do it for about eight weeks because she was in an incubator I had to express, and it got really tiring and would hurt, so I had to stop. I think the fact I was hardly sleeping didn’t help,”

“It must have been tough,” he says.

“I guess,“ I say with a shrug and then decide to lighten the mood a little. “You have a tattoo; you never told me what other ones you have,” I say to him.

“Not a lot, one on my back and my shoulder. It goes down my arm,” he says. “Do you plan to get any more?” he asks.

“I’m not sure. I think I want one on my back. Yasmin has a lion on her back, and I want a spine one; I’m just having trouble picking one,”

“Mine's a spine one,” he says. I frown and look at him. “Just the solar system, nothing amazing,” he states.

“I never thought you’d get one,” I say, and he chuckles.

“Neither did I. I woke up with one after a night out, one day, and I got it covered,” he says awkwardly. “I liked it and thought I’d get one on my back,” he smirks. “What made you get yours?”

“My mom played the violin. I have Ella’s date of birth on my arm. You’ve not seen it; it’s only small, the birdcage shows strength, and the music notes are generic. I also have a sun and moon on my ankle; Courtney and Yasmin have the same. We added stars when Yasmin joined us,” I explain.

“What do you want on your back?”

“I’m not sure I can’t decide,”

“I can design one for you if you want. I designed both of mine,” he tells me.

“Ok, I’ll have to see yours now,” I say, and he looks at me.

“Whenever you want, my body is for your inspection,” he flirts. I shake my head and push him a little.

“You’ve been hanging out with Carl too much.”

“Not true, Carl would have booked a room rather than walk you home,” he states. “If I were more like Carl, we’d be naked with my head between your legs by now,”

“So very confident of yourself,” I state as he opens the door to my building for me. Lionel, the doorman, gives me a slight nod and looks back at the computer monitor.