Chapter 156

Ella

Logan froze when the living room light flicked on like a deer that had just been caught in headlights. The room was silent for what felt like an eternity, the space between us stretching into miles. I felt like I was still reeling, my heart pounding relentlessly in my chest. But somehow I managed to keep my cool and hold my shoulders straight as we stared at each other.

“Uh… hey,” he said, straightening, still in the midst of shrugging his jacket off. “What are you doing up?

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “Where did you run off to this time?”

“This time?” he asked. He leaned against the wall, an obvious attempt at nonchalance that was simply not there. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

I frowned. “Oh, so you’re just standing in the doorway—with my apartment keys in your hand, mind you—for fun?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I ran out to get gas.”

“At midnight?” I hissed. “You’ve been gone for over an hour, Logan. Don’t play dumb with me. What, is this your new routine now? Sneaking out at all hours like a teenager with a curfew?”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, a smile playing on his lips. “Routine is a strong word. But yes, I occasionally like to step out. I’m sorry for waking you.”

I crossed my arms, the frustration bubbling up inside of me. “It has nothing to do with the fact that you woke me. It has to do with the fact that you do this almost every time you sleep here.”

He shrugged, the motion too casual for my liking. “What does it matter, anyway?” he asked. “Am I not allowed to go out and drive around when I can’t sleep?”

A frown crossed my lips. “If you’re just driving around because you can’t sleep, then fine,” I said. “But if you’re out meeting another woman, then stay with her. Don’t come back here, bringing the scent of her perfume into my apartment.”

The words came out sharper than I intended, laced with a bitterness I didn’t want to examine too closely.

His smile turned into a smirk. “I see,” he said. “So you’re jealous.”

I could feel my cheeks burn, but I wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. “Jealous of the likes of you? Please.”

Logan pushed off from the wall and took a few steps towards me. “So if you’re not jealous, then what’s the problem?”

My cheeks flushed red with a heat that I couldn’t control. “It’s the principle, Logan. It’s downright rude to traipse in and out of my apartment like it’s a hotel. And besides, I don’t feel safe with you walking around with my apartment keys, especially if I don’t know where you’re going off to.”

He pushed off from the wall, his movements loose. There was something flickering behind his eyes, something that looked almost like amusement. “Okay,” he said, holding my keys out. I held out my hand and he dropped them into my palm. “I’m sorry. I won’t take your keys anymore. Happy?”

I scoffed. “Am I happy?” I hissed. “Logan, this still doesn’t solve the problem. If you’re out screwing some girl—”

“Ella.” His tone dropped an octave as he stepped closer, the smirk never leaving his face. “If that was what I was doing, why would I come back here? To you?”

I swallowed hard, his proximity suddenly throwing me off my game. “Because you’re a player, Logan, just like I always thought you were. A player who—”

“Who what?” Logan interrupted, his voice a whisper now, as he backed me against the wall. I didn’t even realize it until I was practically sandwiched between his body and the bricks behind me.

The heat that was radiating off of Logan’s body left me flustered, my heart drumming a frantic rhythm in my chest. There was that scent again: the scent that I couldn't quite put my finger on. But the perfume… The perfume was gone.

“A player who…” My voice trailed off for a moment, and I cleared my throat in the hopes that it would make me sound more sure of myself. “A player who should have a little more respect. Respect for the woman who he shares a bed with.”

“So you are jealous.” He was close now, too close. I could feel his chest brush up against me, his breath husky as he looked down at me. “If you’re so bothered by it, Ella, if you're so jealous, why don’t you just show me how you really feel?”

As he spoke, his breath fanned across my face, smelling faintly of the chilly night air and something that was just so very... him.

It would have been so easy to bridge the gap, to press my lips against his and finally give into the tension that always sizzled between us like a live wire. It would have been so easy to give in, to let him carry me to my bedroom and replay the night we had spent together in the hotel. And I almost did.

Almost.

But I shoved him away instead, my breathing erratic. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not jealous?” I hissed. “And I’m not one of your conquests either, Logan. You can charm and smirk your way into anyone’s bed, but not mine. Not anymore.”

His back hit the wall with a soft thud, the smirk still playing around his lips, unfazed. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you, Ella?”

“I don’t need to figure out anything,” I shot back, desperate to regain the upper hand. “It’s simple. If you want to hook up with women in the middle of the night, then fine. We’re not together, so I don’t care. But don’t come crawling back to my apartment after your… your… escapades!”

He tilted his head, the shadows from the streetlight outside the window crossing his face. It gave his face an oddly mischievous look that made my cheeks blush in ways that I never expected nor wanted to admit.

“So you don’t want me sneaking out without you, then, huh?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Exactly.”

He pushed away from the wall, closing the small gap between us again, but I stood my ground.

“But what if I told you,” he murmured, “that you could come with me?”

I blanched. “No way. I’m not taking part in any threeso—”

But he cut me off with a chuckle. “That’s not what I meant, Ella,” he said, his eyes glinting mischievously in the moonlight. “Trust me. Do you want to hear my secret or not?”

I steeled myself, taking note of the flutter in my stomach and the pull of his words, and chose to shove those feelings aside. “You’re speaking as if you have something to hide. As if I don’t already know that you’re a good-for-nothing mobster and a playboy.”

“One of those things may be true,” he countered. “But I’m not a playboy. Not like you’d think.”

“Then what are you saying?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes held mine, a challenge flickering in their clear blue depths. “Do you really want to know, Ella? My deepest, darkest secret?”