It felt like she had been able to finally let out a breath that she had been holding for three years. She had to tiptoe around the truth of it, even in her own mind.
She had complicated feelings for him. Well. They weren’t that complicated. He was sexy. And she was…attracted to him. For the last three years, she let herself think he was attractive, but not that she was attracted to him. So, she could admit it now. She was attracted to him. But being attracted to someone wasn’t the same as acting on it. What she’d said about temptation was true. Being tempted wasn’t the same as doing. She had honored her marriage vows, thank you very much.
She would continue to.
But if Will could be honest about his desire to sleep with other people, then she could be honest about that.
It had kind of started when Will said that he wanted the open relationship. That honesty. She had been aggressively honest with him in that moment. Maybe this was the thing she’d been missing.
Because she could keep a whole lot of baggage at Will’s door, but the dishonesty, that belonged to her. She needed to start telling herself the truth. About everything.
Logan was right. There was no point meeting Will back in the same place, if they were in the same place. She had to figure out what was wrong with her. Not what had made him want other women—she didn’t blame herself for that. But what had been missing when she’d nearly kissed another man.
She needed answers. She was only going to get them with honesty.
SIXTEEN
She woke up the next morning with what felt like a hangover. Or maybe she was punch-drunk from the bull riding.
It was hard to say.
Perhaps it was the altercation and surprisinglygentleaftermath that had occurred in the parking lot.
She pondered it over coffee and biscuits and gravy at a greasy spoon on their way to the highway that would take them to Oklahoma. By design they were taking this part of the trip a little bit quicker, and she could honestly say that she was grateful for that.
It had been good. She had decided that. It had been good to have the exchange with Logan that she had. But now she wanted a little bit of time away, a little bit of time to herself to reflect on it.
Or hide. In a burrow of blankets. With slippers and a fluffy robe. One or the other. She didn’t think that she could be too strongly judged for that.
“You’re quiet,” Logan said, leaning back on the red vinyl bench, lifting his coffee cup to his lips.
“I haven’t had enough caffeine,” she said.
“Right.”
“Also, you’ve given me too much think about.”
“Not a frequent accusation that I get.”
“Somehow I don’t believe that. You are…you’re not what you appear to be.”
“And what do I appear to be, Sam?”
She was suddenly exhausted, because she realized how much time they spent talking about her. She was grateful for the opportunity to talk about him.
“Well. You are a grease monkey. A car guy.Andyou were a jock. Way too good-looking for your own good. You created waves of teenage longing throughout the high school.”
He looked too satisfied by that. “Did I?”
“Logan. You were a one-man wrecking crew for a good quarter of the hearts at our school. And I think you know that.”
“Nice to hear either way.”
“And,” she continued, “you never seemed to care all that much. You had that rebel life. You could have been the all-American. That kind of jock. But you weren’t. It was like you were getting aggression out on the field or something, not looking for glory.”
“Are you a psychiatrist?” he asked, echoing the question she asked him last night.
“No. But I spent a lot of time thinking about people.”Otherpeople.And making up stories about myself.