Dissonance (19 page)

Yet, I’d seen hints of it in him before, like during or conversations my first night in Seattle, or when he knelt on the bathroom floor with me after my panic attack, or in his eyes when I said the move was a mistake. Suddenly, I had to be sure. I had to find out if the words that I could fall in love with came from the man who kept entrapping my attention. If there was more to him, I needed to know. It took longer than I could stand to liberate my phone from my purse. The text came frantically from my thumbs, a reminder of the desperation I was trying to deny. I only hoped Eli would respond quickly, because the band was already bidding the crowd goodnight. Logan looked directly at me before leaving the stage. I think he had been trying to get a read on my response, but the overwhelming mess of emotion I was feeling left my face blank.

Draining my beer quickly, I went over to the bar for another. Eli’s response had me frantic again. It lit up the screen and shook me to my core.

Eli: Yeah, he writes everything. Amazing, huh?

Coming up with no reasonable response, I let the phone get lost in my purse again. He wrote everything. There was more to him than he wanted people to see. Beneath the arrogant bastard with aversion to commitment was a spirit that called to me. The only place he opened up was in song. If anyone could understand that, it was me. Perhaps that was why he had chosen a song for me tonight. Maybe he wanted to finally let me in and see the man beneath the mask.

Would it matter though? Even if he could let me in, I doubted I could fully open up to him in return. God, I was pathetic. Here I had been judging him for playing everything so close to the chest, when I was the queen of doing just that. I needed stability, and he deserved it, too. I was anything but stable.

As I left the bar, I saw him standing at the table I had vacated. He was searching the crowd, looking sort of lost. It was clear in his expression that he thought I had walked out on him. As if I could have. Taking a large gulp of my beer hoping it would push down the lump in my throat, I made my way to him on unsteady feet. He turned my way just as I approached.

“
There
you are!” Beneath the annoyance in his tone was relief. He stared at me for a long moment. “You look… incredible.”

There was a lapse of silence as I flushed at his perusal. He hadn’t even seen the back, yet.

“Why didn’t you come backstage?” he asked.

I shrugged, rendered mute in the aftermath of his music and the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at me. He looked drained, like he had given everything to his audience, and a layer of sweat glistened on his skin despite having changed his shirt. He reached up slowly to caress my cheek, his thumb grazing my lower lip. I was completely spellbound.

“I have to take our equipment back to the rehearsal space. Meet me at home? We need to talk,” he said.

“Okay,” I breathed. He smiled, not his usual bastard grin, but something genuine and slightly nervous that made my heart melt. I tried to repeat my own warnings, but I knew I had already crossed over into his boundaries. There was no going back.

I turned to leave, appreciating the less-than-quiet gasp Logan released when he saw the back of my dress, before he called out to me. “Charlotte?”

I turned back. “What?”

“I called you a cab already. Please take it. I don’t want you on the bus in that dress. You look too fucking good.”

We had all of the equipment packed in record time, mostly because I wanted so desperately to get back to the girl waiting for me at home. I stood in the alley beside the club with all of the gear while Josh ran around the corner to grab the van. My eyes were drawn to a figure standing on the sidewalk near the front door. I couldn’t help but think that it was Charlotte, though I hoped her cab would already have come. Staying beside the instruments instead of going to find out for myself was excruciating.

“Hi Logan,” a sniveling voice hit my ears.

“Kayla,” I replied curtly. She came out of the backstage access door. The bouncers probably let her through because of her blonde hair and over-emphasized tits shoved into a concert t-shirt that had been ripped almost past the point of recognition. She reeked of groupie.
That was how you met her, dumbass.

She approached and snuck one arm around my neck, placing her other hand on my chest. I froze. “I know you didn’t mean what you said on the phone, sweetie.” I was struck by how idiotic she sounded.

“A. I’m not your sweetie,” I said pulling her arms off of me. “B. I meant every word. It’s done.” I glanced back up the alley to find that the person I had been watching was gone.

“Whatever. Like I need some pathetic wanna-be,” she retorted like a child, and sauntered off.
Thank God.

Josh pulled up in the van a moment later. “Next time, you stay with the shit. I’ll get the car,” I told him.

When I finally unlocked the door to our apartment, I found it dark, again.
Maybe she fell asleep,
I told myself. Checking her room, I found nothing. Why wasn’t she back yet? I attempted calling her twice to no avail. On the second try, I left a message.

“Hey, it’s Logan. I thought you were coming home? I hope you’re okay. Please let me know you’re safe, at least. I’ll wait up.” And I waited.

Two hours later, I was still waiting. Not patiently, I might add. Hell, I was pacing like a madman and ready to rip my own hair out. I had called her several more times and sent a few texts.
Where the hell is she?
I thought incessantly. Eventually, I was forced to call Eli. He rang back a few minutes later to tell me she was on the way home. She’d refused to tell him where she’d been for nearly three hours. I could not think of another moment in my life where I’d been more worried, or more pissed.

A commotion in the hall pulled my attention. I heard her voice outside the door.

“Slow down,” her voice betrayed that she had completely lost control of the situation. She sounded drunk, and worse, she seemed nervous.

I flew to the door. Through the peep-hole, I could see her, pressed against the wall opposite our door by some drunken asshole who was sloppily attempting to kiss her fragile neck.

“No. Stop it,” she pleaded.

Blind rage overtook me. I ripped the door open, and immediately grabbed the prick by the neck of his shirt. Throwing all of my strength behind my right arm, I knocked my fist into his jaw so hard that he collapsed to the floor like the chicken-shit he was.

“Logan!” Charlotte shrieked.

“Charlotte, get in the goddamn apartment,” I ground out, trying to keep from screaming at her. The glare I pointed her way caused her to falter and retreat. I lifted the scumbag up by the arm. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here.” He crumpled back to the floor when I released him. The pathetic asshole was the least of my problems.

Charlotte was on the other side of the room when I entered, arms crossed in a way that spoke of indignation. Her contemptuous glare may have caused me to shrink if I weren’t livid.
Oh, she wants to flip this on me, does she?

“What the hell was that?” she yelled.

“I believe that was me saving your ass from a sexual predator.” Calm, menacing, but calm. I would keep control of this.

“I brought him back here! You had no right!”

“You didn’t seem so into it while he was forcing your shirt up in the damn hallway!” Well, that didn’t last long. She blanched, but said nothing. “Where the hell have you been?”

“A club,” she answered as if that told me anything.

“Eli and I have been worried sick.”

“Next time, you can leave my brother out of it.”

“You disappeared! You could have been kidnapped!”

“I can take care of myself!”

“Yeah, it really looked like it,” I challenged. “Is that what you want? Some drunken stranger taking you and not even caring about your experience?”

“What it’s supposed to be different when the drunk taking me is you?”

Given the choice between her words and a knife, my decision would have been easy. She really knew how to go for the kill shot, I’d give her that. Holy hell. The sickening thud of my heart in my chest was so painful I thought I’d drop right there.

“How could you think… I’d never…” I couldn’t form sentences. Hell, I could barely think. A few breaths got me back on track. “Why didn’t you come home? You said you would meet me here.”

Her delicate brow furrowed like she could not understand why I would be asking that. A few moments passed before she replied with icy disdain, “I figured you would be busy with your blonde groupie. Looked suspiciously like Kayla if you ask me, but whatever. I decided I might as well get my rocks off, too.”

Fuck.
It had been her at the end of the alley. I could not make her face out at the time, but I was right under that flickering fluorescent light. She would have had a perfect view of that slut’s paws all over me, but had left by the time I pushed Kayla away.

“That wasn’t what you think,” I insisted.

“It doesn’t matter, Logan. You don’t have to justify your sex life to me. But if you are going to be off having emotionally devoid sex with half of the women in Seattle, you can spare me your lectures.”

My heart sank. I was the heartless asshole in her eyes again. All the progress I made at the show was reduced to an act to seduce her. “Charlotte, please,” I pleaded. “Hear me out. I haven’t touched another woman since you. I have no desire to. I told Kayla it was done. I told all of them.”

“That’s a pretty dramatic move to make over a failed attempt at a one night stand,” she snapped. She was furious and wanted a pound of my flesh in retribution.

“One night stand?” I whispered breathlessly. “You still think that’s all it was?”

Yes.
I wanted to say it if for no other reason than to keep him at arm’s length. But there he was, looking both desperate from my attacks and petrified of my answer. He radiated a sincerity and vulnerability so different from the cocky bastard I knew. I’d seen that side of him before, but it couldn’t hold a candle to that moment. I had the sense that he had never been so open, so exposed. Maybe his usual demeanor was really just an act. Maybe the lost boy before me was the real Logan. I didn’t know what to do.
Can I trust him? Can I handle letting him in and being wrong? Can I handle letting him in and being right?

“Charlotte,” he moved slowly towards me until we were only a foot apart. His miserable eyes were looking directly into mine. “You are so much more to me than that. I am so sorry that you thought otherwise, and I know that it’s my fault. But you have to believe that I’ll never make such a stupid mistake again.” He reached up and brushed a fallen lock of hair from my face. I lost myself in his sweet promise. “I want to be yours, Charlotte. Only yours. If you’ll have me.”