I bit the inside of my cheek as my mom spoke. And here I thought my parents believed my little normal act.
“We try not to force you into things, to let you talk to us in your own time, and you’re still so cautious. But you’re not like that around Logan. He’s given you back something—this little light. I don’t know if it’s that you feel like you can be yourself around him or what, but I’d hate to see you lose that. So that’s why I say I’m on your side, because I do think he’s been good for you. But if you feel like your trust was permanently broken, well, that’s another story. Just think things over before you make any final decisions.”
My mom punctuated her statement by biting into the cookie and brushing the crumbs off her fingertips.
I thought about what my mom said as I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, lying in my bed fully dressed in jeans and a top. Guilt washed over me as I thought about how I fled from Logan—as he was injured, pleading with me to listen. Well, I may have run away then, but I wouldn’t walk away from us now. Not without giving him a chance to explain.
Of course, tonight was the night my mom decided to stay up late watching a movie, so it was nearly one before I could sneak out of the apartment. I didn’t know if Logan would be on the roof as usual, but I hoped he was. I wanted to know that he was okay. I had to hear his side—and he deserved to tell it. And as angry and hurt as I was by his lying, I finally admitted to myself the real reason I was going to meet him. The words had burst into my head before, but I knew it was true: I loved him. I couldn’t help it. I loved Logan, and I had to find out if he was really the person I fell in love with, or just a carefully crafted facade.
Chapter 13
AS I CLIMBED the stairs, my brain spiraled with fake but elaborately detailed conversations. Maybe Logan would turn into a demon, spewing hateful, hurtful words at me about how it was all an act to win my trust. Or maybe Logan would explain that he’d killed so many Regents, he’d taken on their blood as well as their powers—but he was still definitely a human.
I was really rooting for that scenario to be real.
And then I remembered something Logan had said, right after he was injured. He’d held me close, begging me to let him have this moment.
At the time, those words had been like an icy injection in my chest. My heart had dropped, and I’d started to panic, thinking that he’d been mortally wounded, holding me for one final embrace.
Instead, now I knew what he really wanted was one final moment with me—with us—before I left him. The out he’d offered me in that letter hadn’t been for my benefit. It had been for his, to protect his heart when I turned him away. Logan had known I’d run from him the moment I discovered what he was. And that’s exactly what I’d done.
So I wasn’t really surprised when I pushed open the rooftop door and found that I was alone. It was just me. Me and the memories of where we’d practiced fighting with swords. Me and the ghosts of the kisses we’d shared, cuddled up on the picnic table.
I wrapped my arms around my waist as I walked as near as I dared to the low wall that edged the rooftop, watching how midtown’s lights illuminated the low, heavy clouds, making them seem almost bright against the dark sky. The night was crisp but not cold, not that chilly temperatures bothered me these days. It had been a frosty night two weeks ago, and Logan had used the weather as an excuse to wrap his arms around me from behind. We’d stood there, not kissing, not talking...just being. I slumped against the picnic table, rubbing my face with my hands.
It couldn’t have been an act. If he wanted to hurt me, he’d had countless opportunities. It was real. It had to have been real.
“You’re here.”
His voice startled me, and I stood up straight, my head whipping to the side to see Logan standing in the doorway. Taking measured, slow steps, Logan began walking across the rooftop, keeping his eyes on me. He was dressed comfortably, in a dark gray T-shirt, black hoodie and dark jeans. He looked cozy—like he was well suited for travel. Especially with the big duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
My mouth went dry, and my heart lurched at the sight. I’d expected us to fight. I’d thought we would argue. But I never imagined he’d just leave.
“This is goodbye,” I said, my voice a harsh whisper.
“You’re telling me to leave?” Logan asked. I blinked in surprise at the expression on his face. He actually looked hurt.
“Aren’t you already?” I flicked a finger toward his bag. He dropped it off his shoulder, taking swift but cautious steps, closing the gap between us quickly.
“Paige, I’ve got a sleeping bag in there. I was planning on staying up here all weekend in case you came up to speak to me.”
I slumped against the table again, this time in relief. He wasn’t leaving. My bruised heart was momentarily soothed by the idea—and it kind of pissed me off.
“That’s not fair!” I cried, frustrated, and he took a step back, standing about four feet in front of me.
“Not fair?” Logan repeated, looking confused.
“No, it’s not fair that you can make these big, wonderful, romantic gestures straight out of a movie—but can’t tell me the truth. You’ve been lying to me since the moment I met you.”
“Technically, I wasn’t really lying,” Logan said defensively. “If anything, it was a lie of omission.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s right in the title, Logan. It’s a lie of omission,” I said, crossing my arms. “It’s not called a truth of omission. If it wasn’t a lie they would have called it something else, like...the poodle of omission.”
A brilliant—but brief—smile flashed across Logan’s face.
“Only you can make me laugh when you’re in the middle of telling me how much you hate me,” he said ruefully as he raked his hands through his hair, his ever-present baseball cap missing.
“I don’t hate you,” I told him, and Logan’s eyes brightened—until I continued. “But I hate that you lied to me. I hate how hurt and betrayed I feel right now.”
I felt tears start to prick my eyes, and I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, willing the traitorous tears to stay back.
“You were the one part of my life that wasn’t a lie. The best part,” I admitted, keeping my hands over my face as I spoke. I felt his fingertips circle my wrists and gently tug as he spoke, his voice soft and pleading.
“Don’t hide. Look at me. Please.”
I let Logan pull my hands from my face, and he quickly dropped his hold on my wrists. He stepped back a few feet, giving me space, but he kept his eyes locked on mine.
“Paige. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say? I practically had a script written of what I wanted to say to you. But now...” My voice trailed off weakly as I ran my hands through my hair, gripping fistfuls of it at the scalp.
“Just tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I’m feeling like you should have told me the truth!” I cried, throwing my hands in the air before letting them drop, bringing my shoulders drooping, as well. “And honestly, I feel like everything you said or did must have been a lie.”
Logan swiftly crossed the distance between us, cupping my jaw in his hands and gently tilting my face up so my eyes met his.
“Paige, I swear to you on my parents, I have never once lied to you about how I feel about you,” he said gravely.
“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“I could give you a whole speech about who I am, and how it was for your own protection that I didn’t, but honestly, that would just be an excuse. The truth is, I was a selfish coward. I didn’t want to lose you.”