When You’re Ready (Ready #1)(36)
Author: J.L. Berg

“Holy f**k. That was the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” Logan said.

“I think I almost passed out.” I giggled against his chest, feeling my buzz from the many drinks I had consumed returning.

I felt a smile tug at his lips against my forehead, and he kissed me, running his hands through my hair.

“We better get going. It’s almost Last Call. This parking lot is going to be flooded in a few minutes, and I don’t want anyone seeing that look on your face but me.”

I giggled again. How much did I have to drink? Hadn’t I read something in Cosmo once about orgasms actually making you feel more drunk because of the adrenaline or something? Or maybe I made that up.

“Don’t we, um, need to take care of you?” I asked sheepishly, lifting my head so I could look into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes.

“Clare, I’m holding on by a string here. Offer me something like that, and I’m going to have you naked in this back seat in five seconds,” I nodded, still giggling and he rolled his eyes.

We adjusted ourselves and got in the front just as the crowd from the bar descended. Wow, he wasn’t kidding.

And oh my God, I had just got freaky in a parking lot!

He drove me home, holding my hand as we talked about Leah and Declan leaving the bar together.

“Do you think they hooked up?” I asked.

“Well, Declan isn’t known for being subtle, and he had his eye on Leah from the minute we walked in that bar. What about her?”

“Leah hasn’t really been with anyone since her breakup, so I wonder if she’ll take her own advice,” I said, looking out the window as we merged on to the interstate.

“What advice?” he asked.

“Oh. Well, when I first met you, and ah, noticed you…”

I looked at him, his eyes glittered with unheard laughter. Smug bastard.

“She said it was time I go out and have some fun, of the male variety. She said I didn’t have to date, just have some fun.”

His eyebrows drew together, and he frowned before shaking his head. “That’s terrible advice.”

“Well, she did suggest you as a starter,” I teased.

“Well, not too terrible of advice then. One night with me and you’ll be mine forever,” he promised as he brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, which sent chills up my spine and heat down to my core.

“But I don’t think I have it in me. The random one night stands. I don’t think I’m built that way,” I admitted.

He shook his head in agreement, “No, you’re not. Jumping into bed with a stranger involves a lack of feeling and emotion for the people you get involved with,” he said. “You are too good a person. Too loving and caring. You could never sleep with someone with the intent of never speaking to them again.”

“You make me sound boring,” I mumbled.

Giving me a sideways glance, he said with assurance, “The woman I just saw come unhinged in the backseat of my car was anything but boring.”

I smiled at the compliment, but his words were still echoing in my head.

“Is that why you did it? So you wouldn’t have to feel?” I questioned. We hadn’t talked much about his checkered past since his divorce two years ago. The gory details had been skimmed over a bit, but he knew I was familiar with it.

“Yes,” he admitted. “When Melanie left, I felt relief. Pure and utter relief. She’d done the one thing I was too much of a coward to do. Then the guilt came and I felt sick. Shouldn’t you be torn up when your wife leaves you for another man? I should have felt rage, but I didn’t. I’d lived every day of our marriage with this overwhelming sense of guilt. Seeing the way she looked at me, her eyes filled with such love and devotion, and I couldn’t return those feelings. I’d always been so fearful I couldn’t love someone and there was my proof,” I tried to interrupt him and tell him he was wrong, but he just continued.

“After a few months with all those emotions running rampant, I just became numb. The only thing I held together was my career. It’s always been a type of solace for me. Like I said, following a random stranger home from a bar requires a lack of feeling, and that was me.”

He laughed for a brief second, and I could hear the pain echoing in the sound.

We pulled into the driveway and he shut off the engine. Grasshoppers chirped in the nearby bushes, and the dozen air conditioners that lined the street hummed in unison. Summer was coming to Virginia and the air was growing more humid with each passing day.

“What Declan said,” he started to say before I cut him off.

“Logan, it doesn’t matter,” I tried to assure him.

“It does matter. I need you to know. I haven’t been a saint. I can’t even count the number of women I’ve slept with and used to avoid my own pain since my divorce. Declan was my only friend who supported that type of behavior. He was my enabler, and he has been for the majority of my life.”

He looked defeated, dejected.

I didn’t know what I had to say to make him understand. I didn’t care what he had done or who he’d done it with. As hard as it was for me to picture, I didn’t even care if he and Declan were out picking up bar trash the night before we met. He was mine now.

I didn’t judge him for anything. We both had pasts. Yes, they were vastly different from each other, but they were still baggage with both carried into this relationship.

Just like in the garden, words failed to show the depth of my feeling at that moment. So I leaned across the seat, looked in those gorgeous blue eyes, and kissed him. It was a kiss completely opposite of the frenzied passion we had just shared. This kiss was slow, meaningful, and was meant to be savored.

When he walked me to the door that night, his mood was lighter and happier as if a heavy weight had been lifted. I seriously think he had been waiting for me to run for the hills and every time I didn’t, he became a bit more secure. Logan could hold his own and walk circles around anyone when it came to anything remotely sexual, but a two-sided relationship was new territory for him.

As we reached my front door, I turned, my lips curving into a smile.

“Sure you don’t want to come in?” I teased.

“Temptress.”

“Ok, don’t say I didn’t off−” Before I could finish my sentence, his mouth was on mine, our tongues twirling together in a punishing rhythm. His arms wrapped around my waist pulling me closer, as I coiled mine around his neck.