Blow(17)

I busied myself by cutting my burger in half and settling my napkin on my lap, but I couldn’t escape my turn for long. I was certain of that. With each passing moment, I could feel his focus on me. I took my first bite. “Mmmm,” I moaned out loud, unintentionally.

Logan sucked in a breath.

I couldn’t look at him.

“You like it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered once I’d swallowed.

Nervous flutters, more like tremors, had taken up permanent residence in my belly. And when he reached across the table and dragged his finger slowly up my chin to my lips, I nearly jumped. My entire body felt alive and I swear I could feel my skin sear at his touch. He pulled his finger away, and I saw it had ketchup on it. I’d never even felt it dripping from my mouth. I licked my lips where his finger had just been. Again, he gave me a knowing smile, and then when he knew I was watching, he inserted his finger in his mouth and sucked it clean.

My pulse raced at the sight.

I felt like a horny teenager, and I’d never been a horny teenager.

My heart pounded in my chest and I decided talking was going to be way easier than whatever this was. “I grew up in the military. My father was a brigadier general.”

I must have surprised him, because he paused mid-bite. “You’re a military brat?”

My huff of laughter was dry. “Anything but.”

That familiar smirk was back and I was beginning to think he only used it when he didn’t believe me. But he didn’t ask me anything else about that. Instead he asked, “Where was your father stationed?”

I dipped a fry in my ketchup. “Everywhere. My sister and I were born in California. That was my father’s home base, but he preferred international posts, and always volunteered to step in when a temporary base commander was needed. I grew up a little bit everywhere—in Germany, France, England, Italy, and Singapore. There were a few other countries, but we weren’t there long enough to say we lived there.”

Compassion filled his eyes. “Fuck. You moved around a lot. It must have been hard for you with the constant changing of schools and always having to make new friends. I know I used to hate just being shuffled back and forth between New York and Boston.”

I gave him a practiced shrug. “My sister hated it. I saw what that did to her. She was older than me and I didn’t want to be like her. But after a while, it was hard not to hate it. Every base looked like the last, but it wasn’t. I never had any friends. Then, when I was a teen, I found something that I loved about the constant moving.”

Curiosity gleamed in his eyes. “Oh yeah, what?”

I took a bite of one of my fries. “Instead of worrying about trying to make friends that I knew I’d have to leave, I threw myself into the countries and studied them. Their traditions. Common phrases. What each country valued. What they produced. I immersed myself in their cultures.”

He raised a brow. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

Already more than full, I pushed my basket away. “Don’t be. It wasn’t a life I’d wish on any child. I just tried to make the best of it.”

“Your mother and father didn’t know how much you and your sister disliked it?”

I gave him another dry laugh. “I’m not sure. I doubt it would have mattered if they did. My father only cared about himself and my mother was too concerned with making sure the General was happy.”

This was more than I’d spoken about my family in years, and to be fair, my mother wanted to keep my father happy to maintain a sense of calm in our household. She was more of a victim than anything else. I felt guilty not explaining that. But that would only lead to places I didn’t want to go.

“Where are your parents now?” he asked.

The question surprised me. I hadn’t thought of my mother or my father as parents in so long. Again, the need to speak honestly overtook me. “My mother’s dead and I haven’t spoken to my father since the day I left for college. I have no idea where he is.”

Something came over me. I had to get out of here before I broke down. With trembling fingers, I picked up the bill and looked at the total.

When I reached into my purse to leave some money, Logan grabbed the check from me. “I asked you out. I got this.”

“Thank you. It was really good, but I need to get going. I’ll grab a taxi.” I suddenly felt like I should get away from him. He was making me feel things I didn’t want to be feeling. Thoughts of my parents seemed to be strangling me. I quickly jumped to my feet.

Concern glimmered in his eyes and he quickly rose and pulled out his wallet, tossing two twenties on the table. “No, I’m done. I’ll take you.”

I wanted to argue but my mind was a jumble and before I knew it he was behind me, holding my coat out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His warm breath brushed against my ear and shivers danced down my spine.

Dispelling the urge to lean into him, I pulled my hair out of the collar of my trench coat. “You didn’t. I’m fine.”

I clearly wasn’t.

I hated my past.

I hated my father.

I hated my mother for putting up with him.

I hated my sister for leaving me.

But I hated myself even more.





LOGAN


She was anything but fine.