Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(73)

Logan’s attention drifted to her trembling hands, and he cursed under his breath. “What am I doing?” he muttered and pushed back to his feet to run his hands through his hair. “I came here to make sure you were okay, not talk about…about that.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, wondering how many times it’d take her to repeat the sentiment until she began to believe it.

When he stalked across the carpet and back, she gave a small smile. Her floor had definitely seen its fair share of pacing tonight. But she liked watching Logan pace. The way he looked so concerned and agitated all on her account made her feel…loved. With Mariah’s irritated mumblings as she’d paced, Paige had just wanted to be alone. But with Logan here…

“Will you keep me company for a little bit?” Her chin trembled when she realized she’d probably burst out crying if he said no. “I don’t want to be alone.”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything, only nodded and gingerly settled himself on the floor across the room from her.

Unable to take her eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear if she looked away, she rubbed her hands up and down the sides of her arms, keeping them crossed defensively over her chest, but she still felt chilled through two layers of clothes.

Silently, Logan leaned back against a bare patch of wall next to the bathroom. With his hands stuffed deep in the front pocket of his hoodie, he looked like he was as drawn into himself as she was with her arms fastened securely over her chest.

What a pair they made.

He turned his attention to her television and stared vacantly at the commercial playing. She studied it too. It didn’t even occur to her to turn up the volume. As they watched in silence, she felt safe with him keeping a quiet vigil over her. She didn’t think anyone else could’ve made her feel any safer.

“How far did he get?” he finally asked.

Paige closed her eyes and tried not to remember, but it kept rolling through her head like an awful horror movie stuck on replay.

“Right…right after…” She wasn’t sure if she could say it aloud. But when she opened her eyes, Logan was watching her with an intent expression, letting her know he wouldn’t leave it alone until she told him everything.

Gulping, she tried again. “Right after I heard him unzip, he pulled my skirt up. He was…he was trying to remove my underwear when you arrived.”

“He’d already unzipped?” His voice cracked as he spoke, the muscles in his upper arms occasionally twitching under his long sleeves.

Paige glanced away. “Didn’t you notice his fly hanging open while he was slumped on the ground?”

“No.” He looked stupefied. “Thank God. I probably would’ve killed him.” As soon as the words cleared his throat, he winced and thumped his head back against the wall. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

She knew he hadn’t. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but his gaze traveled to the picture sitting on her desk of her and her brother.

“I never should’ve hit Trace.” His face filled with hot color. “I never should have messed with his girlfriend. I never should’ve…God.” He bowed his head nearly between his bent knees. “He could still be here today. He could’ve been at that party and been the one to save you, but…I took that away from you, and I don’t know how to bring him back.”

When he looked at her, tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t know how to undo this,” he confessed on a harsh whisper. “I try. I try so hard to be good, to work hard at my job, to study all my assignments. But none of it matters, not how many cancer clinics I volunteer at or bloody fingers I patch up. He’ll still be gone. And he should be here, right now, instead of me. He could go to you and put his arms around you and just…hug you. I know that’s what you need. You need someone to hold you.”

“Logan.”

She said his name because she didn’t think she could listen to any more of his gut-wrenching words. Her heart broke. For him. For herself. For their situation.

But when she slid from her bed to approach him, he surged off the floor, shaking his head as if he couldn’t bear her kindness.

“I should go.” He turned toward the door without a farewell.

She held herself tight, standing lonely in the middle of her dorm room. He reached for the doorknob and even wrapped his hand around it. But he didn’t turn the handle, and he didn’t leave.

Instead, he swerved slowly back around, looking apologetic and defeated. “I can’t go,” he confessed, his red-rimmed eyes lost and tormented. “I’m just going to hold you, okay? You need some comfort. So, just…pretend I’m someone else. All right?”

But she didn’t want anyone else. She only wanted him. “All right.”

When he caught her shoulders and nudged her gently against his chest, she closed her eyes and sank home. Solid and real, he closed his arms around her and tucked his face close to her hers, kissing her hair. “You’re going to be okay.”

She breathed in the scent of his hoodie, and listened to the steady thud of his heart through his chest. It was delicious and warm and just what she needed. He felt so different from the bulkier Dorian Wade, and that difference mattered.

Logan was safe.

Yet his steady, supporting, sheltering presence made a dam burst inside her, splintering apart all the emotions she’d been holding back since her last sob fest.