“Listen,” Logan said, shoving his pockets in his pocket. “About last night…I shouldn’t have let my baser instincts take control like that. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I blinked at him. “Do you regret it?” I asked in a small voice.
I felt something inside me break in two. No. This couldn’t be happening. Son had let me down and now his father was throwing me away too.
“No!” Logan said, eyes flashing wide. He took a few steps forward. “No, I …I enjoyed myself. Very much. I mean, you saw me. I was like an animal.” He looked embarrassed. “But it was a bad idea. You’re twenty four years younger than me, Willow.”
I did the maths in my head. That made him forty-three.
“And you’re my son’s ex-girlfriend,” he continued. “It’s not right. I’m… I’m a sick person for doing what I did.”
“I liked it,” I whispered. “It’s… it’s never been like that before.”
I was telling the truth. Sure, I’d slept with Tim but it had never been that good. Probably because he was more preoccupied with getting himself off than giving me pleasure. Which, now that I thought about it, was just another reason he was a massive dickhead.
Last night…it was like something inside of me had been unlocked. Or like two puzzle pieces had come together, fitting perfectly.
Blushing, I thought of what I’d called him.Daddy. And even now, in the daylight…it felt right.
“Yeah?” Logan said, looking almost hopeful.
I nodded, and for a second, I thought he’d walk over and kiss me. But instead his expression shuttered.
“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, partly to me and partly to himself. “You’re going home today. We probably…we probably won’t see each other again.”
My gut felt like it was a heavy stone. Because he was right. My college was hours away, and now I wasn’t dating Tim, there was no reason for us to ever run into each other.
“Come into the kitchen when you’re ready,” he said, turning to leave. “I’ll make us breakfast.”
When I walked into the kitchen, fifteen minutes later, Logan was at the stove, cooking pancakes as he hummed to himself. Pancakes was unexpected. I thought we’d have toast or cereal.
I whipped out my phone and searched up the bus timetable, not looking forward to sitting in a cramped vehicle with strangers and crying babies. Maybe I’d be able to sleep through the whole trip.
The bus website loaded.Bus services cancelled, read a notice at the top of the site. Frowning, I clicked on it.
“Shit,” I said as I read the whole notice.
“What is it?” Logan asked, turning around and handing me a plate topped with a stack of pancakes.
“My bus has been cancelled. Apparently there’s a strike or something. Services won’t be running for the whole weekend.”
I showed him my phone and he took it from me, mouth moving as he read the announcement. He passed the phone backto me. “I can drive you back. It’s no trouble. I have the whole weekend.”
I shook my head. “I can’t let you do that.” Besides, the idea of being stuck in a car with Logan for four hours…that would be excruciating. “I’ll figure out another way,” I said.
“Alright. But enjoy your pancakes first. You want blueberries?”
I nodded.
He grinned and pulled a carton from the fridge and placed it in front of me. A minute later, he brought his own plate of pancakes over, and sat next to me. I drizzled maple syrup over my breakfast, sprinkled on some berries, then cut into it.
“Mm!” I said as I took a bite. “These are really good.”
He chuckled as he spread some butter over one of his. “You sound so surprised. Should I feel offended?”
“No!” I said. “Okay, maybe I am a bit surprised. I feel like you’re good at everything. Building homes. Reading.” I thought of last night, his head between my legs as his tongue swirled and flicked. My cheeks heated. Yeah, I couldn’t say that part aloud.
From the look on Logan’s face, it was clear he knew what I was thinking about. He cleared his throat. “You’re good at things too.”
