Despite It All

Chapter 25

"Hey baby. How was your shift?"

Logan's voice is sonorous, each word wrapping around me like a comforting melody. I close my eyes, savoring its slow perusal of my body and soul.

"Mmm, not the best. I've had quite the day," I mutter.

Well, that's an understatement.

"Are you okay Laur? You sound upset," Logan observes, concern evident in his tone.

I'm sitting in my car, unmoving. My head hangs heavily from the weight of my day, my forehead resting against my steering wheel. Without thought, my fingers moved on their own volition to make a phone call, seeking the comfort and solace of Logan the moment I enclosed myself in my vehicle.

Briefly, I wonder if I should examine that reality, because it feels pretty substantial to me. I mean, I couldn't even get myself to start my car before deciding I needed to hear Logan's voice.

I'll ponder on that alarming fact later.

Fragmented segments of my day flash before my eyes—crying babies, furrow-browed managers, daunting bags of chemotherapy, arguing parents, fingers squeezing my arms—and my eyes close even more tightly, willing the visions away.

A breath.

"N-no, n-not really," I quiver, the infliction of my voice contributing to my reluctant admission. "C-can, I come stay with you?"

"Always," his response is both breathless and automatic, and my heart swells with the use of the word.

Always.

***

A wood-grain door swings open wildly before my face, revealing Logan's tall, broad frame. His eyes bore into mine, their examination of me not going unnoticed. His eyes then travel the length of my body, taking in my disheveled, worn appearance. Finally, his captivating gaze falls upon my eyes once more, a non-verbal conveyance of his dismay.

My lips tremble, barely managing a quick whisper, "Babe."

Without further preamble, my world turns upside down.

My stomach lays heavily upon Logan's left shoulder, his arms firmly wrapped around my thighs. My surprised, uncontrolled laughter is muffled by the long, brown waves that cascade beside me—blocking my view of all else besides Logan's firm, sweatpants-encased ass.

Just as I decide I could fully get on board with a worldview of just Logan's tight ass, I am set upright once more. A thick, calloused finger tucks pieces of my wild hair behind my ear. My eyes quickly travel to reveal familiar carrara marble countertops and gray tiles before I am redirected by that same, calloused hand landing upon my face—lifting my chin up towards him. A small, contented smile. His eyes glimmer with mischief, small crinkles beside his eyes betray just how genuine his efforts are. His thumb moves slowly up and down on my cheek as his other arm wraps around my waist. His tall stature eclipses the bright lights in his bathroom and they seemingly radiate from behind him—highlighting his majestic form.

"Hi," he breathes out.

I lean up on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck before pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss. His soft, pillowy lips taste like heaven and home all at once, and I find myself sighing into him. Both of his hands are on my waist now, and I revel in the feeling of his large hands enveloping me.

Reluctantly, I pull away to offer him a proper greeting, "Hi."

He takes a step back and removes his shirt—the perfect salutation.

"Let's wash it all away," he murmurs with a small smile.

How does he know what to say? Like all the time?