Page 68 of Chase
You knew who I was, even if you never showed me all of yourself.
I’m just going to be me.
I let my eyes flutter open again, and when I look at him, I feel like I’m stepping back into myself.
“You look better than I remember,” I tell him, because that’s the fucking truth.
It’s like a miraculous bolt of sunshine when Logan’s mouth actually comes up into a smile, like he can’t even pretend not to like what I just said. He smiles fully this time.
“Are you saying I looked bad last year?”
I shake my head. “Not even close. But you looked sadder last year, and now you look… you look fucking great, Logan.”
“I was a lot sadder back then. I had no idea how to handle this career, that’s for damn sure.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching my face. “Please tell me you’re doing better, too?”
I’m silent for a beat.
I want to shout about everything in my life. There’s something about being with Logan that makes me want to express every stupid thought in my head, and it’s all bursting to come out, like all of that neon blue and pink and purple waiting to get splashed across an open canvas.
“I want to answer that. But can I hug you first?”
As soon as he utters the wordyes, I step forward and wrap my arms around Logan and hug him as tightly as I can.
I pull the bulk of his body against mine, and he’s so warm, so tall, soreal.
He hums in my arms and I feel the gentle vibration of it.
Nothing close to what you feel like in my dreams.
In my mind, I’d remembered fragments of him. But as I grip my arms around his back and breathe him in, it’sallhere again. The pain. The desire.
And my goddamn inability to let go.
CHAPTER 11
LOGAN
“Chase,” I say softly as he clutches against me, attaching himself to me like a six-foot barnacle.
“Just let me hug you,” he says into the crook of my neck. “Please?”
Overwhelmingdoesn’t even begin to describe it.
I swear I could have stood there for an hour, just burying my face in his dark hair. It’s a tiny bit longer now, still beautiful in a slightly messed-up, tousled way.
I keep my composure as I relax in his arms, holding him close. It’s just a hug. I know that, logically.
“It really is good to see you,” I tell him.
His body is so warm against mine, and he doesn’t seem to have any intention of releasing me.
“Sorry,” he murmurs against me. “I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you.”
I hum. “Nothing wrong with hugging a friend.”
I know damn well that we were never “friends” to begin with, but if I’m going to be spending months here at the Bellwood again, that’s how it will have to be.
“I have to stop hugging you now,” he says quietly.
