Chapter 71
But I was distracted and found myself reading the same paragraph three times before the sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence.
Logan hesitated in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should enter
“I thought you might be here,” he said. His voice was low, unreadable.
“I’m working,” I replied, not looking up.
“I can see that.” He said.
A pause stretched between us, too thin to stand on but too wide to cross.
own space.
He stepped into the room and lowered himself onto the chair across from me. No tablet. No folders. Just him.
“I wanted to talk,” he said.
I flipped a page. “We’re talking.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Not about Pack logistics
I kept my gaze on the documents. “What else is there?”
Emily.”
The way he said my name–soft, careful–was enough to split me open. But I didn’t let it show. I didn’t answer. Just turned another page.
Logan didn’t push but I felt his eyes on me, waiting for something but I didn’t what he expected.
“Did you hear what my father said?” he asked suddenly. The words were quiet, hesitant. I hadn’t known him long, bit that was unlike Logan.
I didn’t look at him, but the paper in my hands trembled slightly. “I heard enough,” I replied. “Enough to know where I stand.”
He exhaled, sharp and frustrated. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” I asked, finally meeting his gaze. “Because it sounded a lot like agreement.”
He shifted like he wanted to get closer but didn’t trust himself to move. I saw the tension in his jaw, the subtle twitch in his fingers like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for me or walk away.
“You matter more than he thinks,” he said.
“You say things like that when you’re about to walk away,” I murmured, barely above a whisper.
He stilled. “I’m not walking away.”
“You’re not staying either.”
A beat passed. He shifted closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, but he stopped short.
“I didn’t know how to defend you without making it worse,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know if you’d even want me to.‘
The worst part? I did. I wanted it more than I cared to admit. But I said nothing.
If I looked
up, if I let him see even a sliver of what I felt–disappointment, jealousy, that creeping sense of hot being enough–I didn’t know if I’d be able to hide the rest.
This relationship was supposed to be strategic. Calculated. For our mutual benefit. That had been the deal.
But it wasn’t that simple anymore.
1/2
Not when his voice got quiet. Not when I could still feel the warmth of his hand from last night when he’d offered it at the gala, or the ghost of his breath when we almost kissed.
Not when I wanted him to fight for me- not as an asset, or a placeholder–but just for me.
And maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe I was asking too much of a man who never claimed to offer anything at all.
I felt the air shift when he stood. The leather of the chair creaked against his weight. Or against the weight of everything we
hadn’t said.
“Good night,” he said quietly.
I turned another page as my answer.
Logan paused in the doorway for a second longer than he needed t. But he still left. And I didn’t ask him to stay.
Because I needed to remember that this wasn’t love. This was paperwork and politics. A contract signed in mutual need, not
affection.
I could do this. I could be smart. Controlled. And I tried to believe that it meant I didn’t really care.
If I didn’t care, I couldn’t get hurt.
Chapter 72
