Chapter 9
-Hailey-
By the time we got back upstairs, I had eight more missed calls from Matt.
I turned my phone off.
“Got a smoke?” I asked, the words slipping out before I knew I was talking.
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Logan glanced at me, his green eyes narrowing. He didn’t say anything, just reached into his cut and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, shaking one loose. He handed it to me, then grabbed another for himself.
I stared at the cigarette in my hand, feeling the weight of it. I hadn’t smoked sober in years. Not since college. But my nerves were frayed, and my thoughts were tangled. I needed something, and booze didn’t feel appropriate at 9am… though I doubted anyone here would bat an eye.
He jerked his chin toward the window. “Fire escape.”
I nodded, following him out. The metal groaned under our weight, the chilly morning air biting at my face. I tucked myself into the corner, pulling up my hood.
He lit his first, the flame of his Zippo flickering against the wind, then he cupped his hand around mine to shield it as he lit it. The first drag hit my lungs hard, but it felt good. I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl and disappear into the gray sky.
“I thought you were kidding last night,” he said, his voice low. “Didn’t know you smoked.”
“I was… I don’t,” I admitted, taking another drag. “Not anymore. But…” I trailed off, shrugging. “Stress.”
He nodded, his jaw flexing. He didn’t press, just stood there quietly, leaning against the railing.
My mind raced, thoughts crashing into each other like bumper cars. Matt’s texts, Logan’s easy protectiveness, the way last night had shifted something between us. I didn’t know what to do with any of it.
I stretched, reaching my arms above my head. Every inch of me ached, reminding me of Logan’s hands, his teeth, the way he’d pinned me to the bed last night. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.
“So,” I started, my voice casual despite the heat creeping up my neck, “do you always fuck like that? Because, damn, I can see why girls might catch feelings.”
He froze mid–drag, the cigarette hanging from his mouth. For a second he just stared at me, his green eyes wide. Then he choked on the smoke, coughing into his fist as a deep chuckle rumbled out of him.
“Jesus, Hailey,” he muttered, shaking his head. He took a long drag, exhaling slowly, like he was buying himself time to figure out what to say.
I smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m just saying. If you’re gonna wreck me like that, I deserve to know if it’s a regular thing or not. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be walking funny for a week.”
He glanced at me, and his expression looked… pained? I thought I might’ve overstepped.
Finally he spoke, flicking ash over the railing. “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me.”
“You keep saying that… and yet, here you are,” I said, leaning into the railing, the cold metal biting through the hoodie. “Still sticking around.”
His eyes met mine, and I thought he might actually let me in on whatever he was holding back. But he just looked away,
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taking another drag. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “Here I am.
“You’re not like most guys,” I said after a beat, my voice softer.
He snorted, shaking his head. “You don’t know that.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted, stubbing out my cigarette. “But I’m starting to. And I think you’re not as tough as you want everyone to believe.”
His jaw flexed, and he looked at me, incredulous. The same look he gave me when I chose to take Matt home on the day we met. “Careful,” he said, his voice low. “Keep pushin‘ buttons like that, you’re gonna find out.”
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Promises, promises.”
He laughed then, a real laugh, deep and rumbling. “You’re somethin‘ else,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I’ve been told,” I replied, grinning.
Logan finished his smoke and flicked the butt into the alley below. He turned to me, staring, like he was trying to figure me out. “You really gonna stick around here?” he asked, his tone more serious now.
I hesitated, my fingers playing with the edge of my sleeve. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. And… I don’t want to go back to him.”
His eyes darkened at the mention of Matt. “You’re not gonna,” he said firmly.
My chest tightened at the intensity in his voice. “Why do you care so much?” I asked, the words slipping out. “You made it clear you don’t *do* relationships, so why are you sticking your neck out for me?”
“Don’t ask that,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t have an answer for you.”
“Logan…” I murmured, not sure how to ask. “Last night… was that just…?“,
He cut me off before I could finish. “No, Hailey. It wasn’t just anything.”
My mouth went dry. I stared at the brick wall of the building next door,
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admitted quietly.
He chuckled, sharp and low. “Yeah. Me neither.”
“What does that mean?”
د
“It means… fuck, I don’t know, Hailey…” He sounded almost frustrated now. “I never do this shit. Any of it. Know how many times I watched a girl eat breakfast, before today? Zero. I’m always outta there before the sun comes up.”
“I… Do you want me to leave?” I asked, my voice brittle,
His hands gripped the railing, his jaw tight. “Fuck, Hailey,” he growled, sharp enough to make me flinch. “I didn’t bring you here to kick you out.”
I shrunk back, heat creeping up my neck. The anger felt like a wall slamming down, and I instantly regretted pushing.
“Shit.” His voice shifted softer, and he stepped closer. “I’m sorry.” He dragged a hand through his curls, exhaling hard. “I just… I’ve never been here before.”
“Here?”
He glanced at me, eyes burning. “Yeah. This. Wakin‘ up with someone in my bed. Talkin‘ like this. Wanting to keep someone
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close instead of dippin‘ out before they wake up.” His mouth twisted, like the words tasted strange. “It’s not what I do.”
Silence hung between us, heavy and fragile.
I swallowed. “So why me?”
He shook his head, almost frustrated. “Don’t ask me that either.” His gaze dropped down to the alley, then back up to me. “All I know is … I don’t want you goin‘ back to him. I want you… safe.”
Safe. The word cracked something open inside me. It wasn’t a promise of forever. It wasn’t a promise of anything. But the way he said it like it was a fact carved into stone – sent a strange ache through my chest.
–
I didn’t know what to do with it. Part of me wanted to lean into him, let him fold me up and keep me there. The other part screamed that safety was a myth, that I’d traded one cage for another.
My voice came out meek. “Safe… with you?”
His jaw flexed. He nodded once. “With me.”
The wind off the alley whipped through my hood, cooling the heat on my cheeks. I stared at the railing, trying to anchor myself. He’d given me an opening – a glimpse of what might be under all the armor- but not enough to see the whole man. Not yet.
“Can we go inside?” I said after a minute. “It’s fuckin freezing out here.”
He smirked, pushing the window open and helping me through.
Inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapped around me. Logan shrugged off his cut and tossed it over the back of the couch, heading straight for the kitchen.
“Coffee?” he asked, already reaching for the bag of grounds. His voice was casual, like our conversation on the fire escape hadn’t just peeled back entire layers of both of us.
“Sure,” I murmured, “coffee sounds good.” I sat down at the kitchen island, my fingers twisting in the hem of the hoodie.
Then, the words bubbled up before I could give them a second thought.
“Logan… I need to go home.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
