Page 66 of Chase
Julian’s pissed.
When we found out that Logan was coming back, Julian started acting this way. I appreciate his love, but my brother doesn’t run my life.
I do what I want.
I know I’m not going to backslide into a toxic, unhealthy obsession and start blasting myself with substances just because Logan is in town again, but I know it’s going to take some convincing for Jules to believe that.
He just needs time.
He splits off toward the bar and I head into the dessert kitchen. The day feels like it passes as slowly as molasses. I get started prepping fresh cut strawberries, creme brulee, andchantilly cream. We go through our early evening rush, then our busiest time of night, and as the hours whittle by, Julian stops into the kitchen and tells me there’s been no sign of Logan all night.
Finally, it’s time to close.
I clean up the kitchen with our manager and the dishwasher.
When I shut off the lights and head toward the door, I’m rationalizing all of the reasons why Logan might not have come.
But none of that feels like the truth.
You know what he said.
You remember it clear as day.
He told you that you had the potential to ruin his life. Why would he ever want to see you again?
My stomach feels like a pit. The thoughts are circling my mind like hungry vultures, ready to feast on every shred of self-doubt that I’ve been working so hard to avoid. I shut the bar door behind me and lock it, walking out into the hall that leads to the main lobby of the Bellwood.
I pause at the elevator bay.
The elevators areright there.Golden doors, waiting to be opened.
I could go up to the top floor and knock on the door of the penthouse suite anytime I wanted. But instead I head out the front of the building and walk all the way home with an empty feeling in my chest.
The next day, my shift feels like a cut-and-paste repeat of yesterday's.
Another day has passed with no sign from Logan, and I’m realizing that Julian might be right.
At the end of the night, I’m the last person out of the kitchen again. When I walk out alone, there’s a figure standing in the hall.
And my heart skips a beat.
It’s actually him.
Logan is there, down by the bar, leaning on the wall, and his gentle eyes land right on mine.
He almost looks like a mirage, like something I must be dreaming up.
My heart twists in my chest.
I act unaffected as my blood runs hot.
I walk over slowly, giving him a little nod. “Took you long enough.”
One corner of his mouth comes up like he’s about to smile, but it never spreads wider. He’s wearing a cream-colored silk button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and a few of the buttons at the top are undone. His skin is tanned, like LA has been treating him very well.
His hair is sun-kissed, too. Blonder highlights run throughout his deep gold waves.
“I was going to come see you yesterday,” he says. “Was very busy, though. You weren’t in the bar tonight?”
