When I look up at Logan, he’s sitting back on his heels, assessing my movements. “You really need to eat.”
I make a gut decision. “Do you like tequila?”
He smiles. “Only in large quantities.”
I laugh and the effort doesn’t feel nearly as forced as it does when I’m with Corbin—or anyone else for that matter. “I know a great place that has the best tacos and tequila. If you’re not busy.”
He stands and gestures to the door. “Lead the way. But I’m driving.”
Considering how wobbly my knees are, I don’t try to protest. Despite the dizziness, I feel more like myself than I have in days as we drive the short distance to the Mexican restaurant.
For now, at least, Corbin’s anger, the wolves, Estelle’s ghostly visits—all of it fades away. There is only me and my new friend. Logan. The fact that he makes my heart race when he looks at me isn’t important, I tell myself. It’s probably just the low blood sugar anyway.
Twenty minutes later, we sit across from each other in a corner booth. Around us, the restaurant is crowded and noisy. It settles me. Being here, in public, but it hasn’t dimmed the attraction.
Normal, I tell myself.
He’s handsome. And mysterious.
But I’m engaged.
And having a simple meal with a friend. Nothing more.
“How long have you lived in the city?” he asks while we wait for the waitress.
“My whole life,” I tell him, and while the words are true, they feel wrong coming out of my mouth.
“Do you have family here?” he asks.
“My sister, Estelle,” I tell him. “But she’s in a coma. Has been for years..”
“Do you see her often?”
“I try to get over there once a week.”
“And your parents?”
I know he’s trying to be friendly, but the personal questions make me uncomfortable. I glance away, searching for the waitress, and shake my head.
“I’m sorry.” His hand covers mine and my skin sparks with an electric jolt that has me snatching my fingers away.
We stare at each other as a waitress delivers complimentary chips and salsa. Neither of us look up at her. I can’t seem to tear my eyes from his no matter how much my pulse races. Whatever this connection is between us, it’s getting stronger.
More dangerous.
I feel in my blood that if I keep walking this path, it will uproot my life, but I can’t seem to bring myself to change direction.
The waitress asks if we’re ready to order, but I don’t answer. I can’t. Logan shakes his head without taking his eyes from mine. She mutters something about giving us another minute and then walks off.
“That was . . . interesting,” Logan murmurs and looks down at his menu.
With the spell broken, I exhale and blink, trying to get my bearings. It takes several deep breaths and a dozen tortilla chips before the mood feels casual again.
We manage to place our order and chat about his career as a therapist but through it all, my pulse thrums faster than normal and butterflies bat at my stomach. I try to remember the last time I felt like this with Corbin.
Never.
But that can’t be right. We’re in love. Or so my memories tell me. My heart says something else.
“You seem to really enjoy helping people with their problems,” I say.
“Humanity’s greatest asset is our ability to feel,” he says. “It’s also our biggest obstacle at times.”
Something about the way he says the words makes me pause. “And what about you? Are your feelings an asset or an obstacle?”
He starts to speak but then stops, tilting his head to study me. “I’m not yet sure,” he says finally and the connection between us hums steadily.
I concentrate on my food after that.
When we’re finished, Logan drives me back to his office where I left my car. The parking lot is mostly empty now, and I wonder what sort of therapist keeps such late hours. Then again, this is LA.
“This was fun, thank you,” I say as he walks me to my car.
The night air is crisper than it was earlier and I draw my jacket more tightly around my shoulders.
Logan turns to face me, the yellow street lamps reflecting eerily against his emerald eyes. “The pleasure was all mine. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yes, I’ll have to pay better attention,” I say.
The pause between us becomes weighted.
I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder and move to step around him, but his hand on my arm stops me. “About what happened earlier—”
“I really need to get going,” I say, ducking my head to avoid his piercing gaze.
“Celeste, when I’m with you, I feel something I’ve never—”
“Good night, Logan.” I push past him and pull my car door open, my skin tingling where I touched his chest. He calls my name as I climb into my car and shut the door. Without looking up again, I start the engine and drive off. When I stop at the edge of the lot, my neck prickles with the awareness that he’s watching me go.
A quick glance in my mirror confirms it.
My chest tightens at the sight of him, broad shoulders stiff and hands stuffed into his pockets as he stares at me in the darkness. As if he can see me crystal clear even from a distance.
My hands tighten on the wheel and I make the turn, giving it gas as I head for home. Tears burn my eyes. I’m desperate to get away and heartbroken at the loss I feel over leaving. It’s ridiculous, the attachment I feel for a man I’ve just met. But like every other feeling that’s come over me in the last couple of days, it’s absolute.
An unexplainable truth that I can’t deny no matter how strange or suddenly it’s appeared. With reckless abandon I exit the highway at the first off ramp and turn back towards Logan’s office.
I need to know what’s happening, and I feel in my gut he has the answers.
Though I haven’t been gone long, the office building looks empty. But Logan’s car is still in the parking lot.
I rush through the front door and head straight to his office. He looks up in surprise when I barge in. “Celeste.”
My name on his lips makes my knees weak. “What is this?” I ask, knowing he knows what I mean.
I can see it in his eyes. Feel it in the weight of the words left unspoken between us.
I sink into the loveseat and he stands and takes the chair in front of me. He doesn’t speak. I think neither of us has the words to define what we’re feeling.
The strange sort of hunger in his eyes is back, and he’s staring at my throat.
Desire hits me so hard it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.
My lips part and Logan’s gaze flicks from my throat to my mouth. Warmth pools low in my belly. It’s crazy, this kind of lust. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. About anyone.
It’s also a betrayal considering the fact that I’m engaged to someone else, but I can’t seem to get my body to agree.
“Logan,” I say, breathless and not even sure what I mean to say next.
But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t give me the chance.
At the sound of his name, Logan slides from his chair and drops to his knees on the rug in front of me. In a lightning fast move, he has my legs parted and is pressed close between my open thighs.