Neat (Becker Brothers, #2)(71)

I gaped at him, because of course that was exactly what I was going to say. But when those words rolled from his lips, shame shaded my cheeks, because he knew as well as I did that somewhere, in the back of my mind, I suspected this might happen.

He suspected it, too.

And I did nothing to stop it.

“Do you know how long I’ve fought for that job, Mallory? How many hours I’ve put in, how many years of my life I’ve dedicated to this company, just trying to keep my own family’s legacy alive, trying to fight for my father — who has no voice to fight for himself anymore?”

“Of course, I do,” I said, reaching for him, but he pulled away like I was poison. I swallowed, letting my hands fall limp at my sides. “Logan, of course I know that. I know so much about you, and I want to know everything. I’m falling in lo—”

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a thunderous growl. “Don’t you dare say that to me — not right now. Not when you just ripped my fucking heart out on that stage in front of everyone in this goddamn town.”

My throat closed in, emotion strangling me from the inside.

“I trusted you,” he breathed. “I let you in like I’ve never let another woman in before. I told you things about myself that not even my family knows. And you know what?” He laughed, fist hitting his chest hard. “It’s me I’m pissed at the most. It’s me who was the fucking idiot, trusting a Scooter, giving myself to a woman who has showed this whole town time and time again that the only thing she cares about is herself.”

I gasped. “Logan… you don’t mean that.”

“You’re going to tell me you had no idea that this was coming?” he asked, stepping into my space. I took a step back. “You’re going to look me in the eyes and say your father never hinted at this, that you never thought to talk to him about it, or to talk to me about it — especially after everything that’s happened between us?”

I swallowed, body trembling as more snow fell down around us. Little flakes caught on his lashes, in his hair, and he looked so devastatingly beautiful in that moment that I had to cross my arms to keep from reaching out for him.

I wanted to pull him into me, comfort him, tell him I would never hurt him…

But he was right.

There was a part of me that suspected my father had this in his plan. I wondered why the timing was the way it was, why he wanted me in the tour department out of all the departments there were at the distillery. I was an art major — I should have been in marketing with my brother.

The truth was — I knew.

Deep down, I knew.

And I’d been too chicken shit to do anything about it.

“I can fix it,” I breathed, sniffing against the cold. “Please, just give me a chance to fix it.”

“You can’t,” he said, stepping into me again. This time, I didn’t move away. I looked him right in the eyes as he gave me the lashing I deserved. “Your dad just announced that you’re the new manager in front of everyone. You can’t convince him to go back on that, and you can’t do anything without him taking the studio away from you. Admit it, he played you, and a part of you knew it would end up like this.” Logan shook his head. “It’s actually kind of perfect, isn’t it? Playing with me the way you have been the past month. Was it one last dig at your father? One last way to piss him off before he locked you into a life you never wanted?”

I choked on a sob that had no tears to back it, a result of years of me training myself not to feel. I would have given anything to cry in that moment, to throw myself into Logan’s arms and beg for his forgiveness.

But I didn’t deserve it.

“I was just another way to rebel, wasn’t I? When everything else was out of your control, when you knew you had to play by his rules, I was the only way you could get your hits in, huh?”

I shook my head, bottom lip quivering, but I had no words to fight back. I had nothing but my bleeding heart in my hands — a heart I knew Logan wouldn’t take. Not now. Not ever again.

I didn’t deserve Logan Becker, because I was exactly the piece of shit he was describing me to be.

And the best thing I could do for him was let him go.

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he let his hand fall to his side. His eyes searched mine, and they welled with tears the longer he stared. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then his head fell as he shook it. When he looked at me again, it was with a single tear slipping down his cheek.

“I was so blinded by you that I couldn’t see,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “All I wanted was to love you. Nothing else mattered. And now…” he swallowed. “Now, I’ve lost everything. Including you — and I never even had you at all, did I?”

My face twisted, again, all the signs of crying without the actual tears making themselves known. My heart ached so violently inside my chest I thought it would revolt and tear itself out of my body just to escape the pain.

He was everything to me.

But how could he ever believe me if I told him that, after everything that had happened?

When I didn’t answer, Logan shook his head, putting his hands up as if it was his final surrender. Then, he turned, storming the rest of the way to his truck. He climbed inside, slammed the door, roared the engine to life, and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving me damp and cold in the falling snow.