Moonlight on Nightingale Way (Page 85)

“So what do I do?”

“I can’t tell you what to do.”

I stared at my phone in horror for a second and then put it back to my ear. “The whole point is for you to tell me what to do!” I hissed.

“No, it’s not. I can’t make this decision for you. No one can. It has to feel right for you. All I can tell you is that not one of us will judge you for whatever choice you make. Just do what you have to do.”

We talked for a little longer before I finally hung up, feeling no more and no less confused than I had when I’d called him. I was just getting up off my bed when the bedroom door opened and Logan stepped in.

“You okay?” he said, wary.

I nodded. “I was just talking to Aidan. Asking for his advice.”

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Logan’s expression darkened. “So you take his advice but not mine?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh? I’m to feel all right about you running to dear old Aidan whenever you have a problem? Is this something I should prepare myself for in the future?”

I gaped at him. “Logan, where is this coming from? You know Aidan is one of my closest friends.”

“Yeah, and while you’re pushing me away, you’re running to him.”

“I’m not pushing you away.” I jumped off the bed and hurried over to him, only just realizing how much the news of my father’s arrival had shaken him. “Logan, I went to Aidan because he can be rational about this. He can step outside of our friendship and give me advice without being biased.”

“He can do that because he’s not fucking fighting for you.” He dragged a hand over his face, looking suddenly exhausted. “That’s all I feel like I’m ever doing… fucking fighting for you.”

Tears stung my eyes at the sight of the hurt in his. “I’m only thinking this over. And you know going back to London would only be for a bit. It wouldn’t be the end of us.”

“No. It means the end of everything you’ve built since escaping their manipulative, sick, bloody world. They are toxic. They will hurt you again, Grace, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let you do this.”

I grabbed his hand, hoping the gesture would soften what I was about to say. “Whatever I decide, it’s up to me, not you.”

He ripped his hand from mine. “See, that’s the difference between you and me. I thought that since I love you, when shit like this comes up, we discuss it… because it affects us both.”

Surprise, amazement, joy, panic, euphoria, fear, excitement, trepidation… It all flooded through me at the sound of those three words falling from his beautiful mouth.

In fact, I felt so much I couldn’t find the strength to reply.

And he was waiting for a reply.

And not just any reply.

“Nice, Grace,” he bit out, and disappeared before I could get my mouth to work.

CHAPTER 26

I love you.

I love you.

I. Love. You.

What was so difficult about those words? Nothing! I’d said them to people before!

Somehow, however, they’d grown to fifty times their normal size when Logan said them. They were so big there was no way around them, and I couldn’t see anything for the hulking shadow of each damn letter.

I was frightened to say them back to him.

That night I lay in my bed, and each time I tried to force my body up and out so I could go to him next door and just blurt out the words, I was stopped by that fear.

Yet, as the next day wore on with no sign of him or Maia, the words percolated, and common sense started to punch the crap out of my fear. By the time I returned with some shopping for Mr. Jenner, I was determined to turn back out of the apartment building and find Logan.

He said those momentously large words to me first.

He made himself vulnerable to me.

He took that step without having to be asked.

And surely he was just as scared of being rejected? Of putting it out there and it all going wrong?

If Logan could be brave, then I could be brave.

Because of course I loved him.

I felt like I’d loved him forever.

I had just dumped my own food shopping in the kitchen and was hurrying back out of the flat when I heard, “Grace!”

Running up the stairs toward me, Maia was frantic, her eyes alert with panic. I hurried to her just as she reached the landing. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dad,” she huffed, out of breath. “Shannon just called me. She’s been trying to call you. Her ex is back. The one who beat her. Dad’s gone AWOL.”

And just like that, nothing else mattered, nothing but finding Logan. I rummaged in my bag for my phone, which I’d stupidly switched to silent. Sure enough, I had a dozen missed calls from Shannon. I flicked through the numbers and hit Logan’s. “Come on, come on,” I muttered as it rang. My hopes fell as it went to voice mail. “No,” I hissed, and hung up. I rang Shannon back.

“Oh, thank God, Grace. Have you seen Logan?” she said without preamble, panic clear in her voice.

“We’re just checking the flat.” I nodded to Maia to do so, and she immediately set about unlocking Logan’s flat.

I followed her inside as she called out to him. “Shannon, what’s going on exactly?”

“My ex,” she said softly, a tremble in her voice. “Ollie. He contacted me. He’s out of prison and he’s in Edinburgh. He wants to meet me.”

“Are you bloody well kidding me?” I snapped, outraged.