Chapter 18
It was morning, and I needed coffee.
Kat was already awake, and the scent of coffee brewing had me inhaling deep. She sat on the bar stool with her sketch pad in front of her.
“Hey, Emily, you working with Havoc today? I can put her in the round pen after I feed.”
I shook my head. “I’m going to play with her out in the field. Free-work with the other horses around. See if I can get her to join up with me while they’re distracting her.”
Silence.
“You want to take the horses out this afternoon?” Kat tapped her pencil on the edge of the counter.
“Yeah, sure.” We often took the more inexperienced horses out for a trail ride in the afternoons when Kat wasn’t busy painting or fixing things. She’d taken a mechanic’s course last year and even tuned up Matt and Deck’s cars.
“Okay.” Silence lasted all of ten seconds. Kat couldn’t keep anything in. “What’s happened between you and Sculpt?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You guys are like oil and water in a blender set on full blast.”
Yeah, they were like that. Trying to mesh, but unable to. “We’re broken, Kat. What happened ... it broke us.” My stomach turned over. I’d been a mouse in a world of snakes. “He hurt me. Even though I know now that he ... He doesn’t fit into my life anymore, Kat.”
“Do you still love him?”
Oh God. I really couldn’t answer that, because I knew a part of me always would. A part of me would always be that innocent girl who fell in love with the guy who sat in the horse fields playing his guitar. But I wasn’t innocent anymore, and he wasn’t the same guy.
She looked at me, and I looked away for fear that I’d start balling. “I love you. More than anything, and if you choose to keep kicking Sculpt to the curb, I’ll support you. I just want you to think about it before you do.”
I looked down at my coffee and slowly turned the mug in circles. I kept remembering him standing there and watching me being dragged away, the sound of Logan’s feet in the gravel as he walked away when his father held a gun to my head. I felt so betrayed and ... God, where was my hero? I wanted Logan to be my hero, damn it. Why hadn’t he fought for me? I wanted him to shout and scream and move heaven and earth ... I wanted him to kill his own father.
And yet, that wasn’t fair. I knew it. He did fight for me, but it was in another way. He fought for me more than I ever could’ve imagined. Maybe it was partly guilt that kept me pushing him away, because I had no right to hate him, and I had. I’d said some horrible things to him, and now knowing the truth, the words had to have hurt him. Maybe in his own right, he’d suffered more than I had. He’d grown up in that place, and still, he managed to be strong and determined and fight for what he wanted in life.
Kat put her hand on top of mine. “I saw the way he looked at you at Avalanche.” She leaned back on the stool. “He loves you. I don’t think he’s ever stopped.” The corners of her lips lifted. “We only have one life and ... well you never know when it will end. So, I’m thinking you should just f**k him and see what happens.”
I spit up my coffee, spraying it onto the countertop.
She laughed and shrugged. “Just kidding—kind of. Okay, not really. Emily, I’m here for you and will be behind you one hundred percent. I’m also your bestie and will tell you what I think whether you want to hear it or not. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, just means I care. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t say shit. Okay?”
My phone vibrated on the counter between us.
Kat peered at the screen. “Sculpt. Huh. He got your cell number?”
I titled my head and gave her a so what look. I picked it up, plugged in my password, and read the text.
You sleep okay Mouse? xxx
“What did he say?” Kat asked.
“He asked if I slept okay.”
“Are you going to reply?”
Was I? It was no big deal really. Texting was impersonal. But somehow it felt real personal. Logan made it feel that way. Even via text I felt the protectiveness about him that I craved. Was I pathetic because I desired that? But when I went to type a message back, my hand was trembling.
Fine thanks. You?
As soon as I hit send I knew it was stupid, and I couldn’t take it back. Of course he didn’t sleep well. He had a flight yesterday to Chicago then had a gig and was probably up all night.
Slept on the plane. Call you later. Miss you Eme.
How could I not melt after reading that? I closed my eyes imagining his deep voice whispering those words in my ear, and shivers sprinkled like rain drops across my skin. God, he was hundreds of miles away, and I still felt him.
I texted back.
Okay.
No x’s and o’s. No emotions. Simple. Why did it feel anything but simple?
The day was therapeutic, and I nearly forgot all about Logan. Nearly. He only popped into my head, oh, about a thousand times. Havoc felt my tension on the trail ride, prancing, spooking at everything and anything.
The entire day was exhausting mentally, and when I finally crashed in bed it was with my phone sitting in my hand.
I jolted awake to my hand vibrating. Without opening my eyes, I answered my phone.
“Hello?”
“Mouse.”
“Logan?” I sat upright, suddenly wide awake. Then I realized I just called him Logan, not Sculpt, and wanted to kick my own ass to the curb. “What time is it?” I fell back against the pillows, looked at my phone’s time—one in the morning. I sighed putting the phone back to my ear. “I should hang up on you.”