His hands slide up the back of my thighs, his fingers trailing underneath the fabric of my shorts. Goose bumps dot the surface of my skin and I breathe Logan in.
I wasn’t sure where we were going from here or how we would handle Julian being back. But one thing I knew was that Julian had been unsuccessful in his attempt at tearing us apart. Logan and I were finally on the same page, and this time we weren’t running. We were facing this head on.
Twenty-Two
Lena
The smell of whiskey makes me want to hurl.
I scrunch my nose, the scent of malted yeast and smoked oak lingering in the air. Abby insisted on meeting at the pub near downtown. I found it odd considering she knew I’d never been big on drinking.
Whiskey reminded me of Julian, and he was the last person I wanted to feel connected to when I talked to Abby about the prospect of him being back. In a twisted way, I guess it was fitting.
I’m sitting at one of the tall tables centered in the middle of the pub. The rich dark wood and barstools only seem to intensify the smell. The aroma of liquor sealed into the grain. The pub is busy, most of the bar lined with middle-age men donned with large beards and round bellies, the occasional younger suited man sandwiched between. There’s an eclectic range of patrons, including me.
The vodka soda I ordered twenty minutes ago is already watered down. I swirl my straw into the mixture, the small remnants of ice melting away. When I spot Abby entering the front door, I sigh with relief.
Abby stands in the doorway, scanning the room. She spots me and starts weaving between the tables standing between us. Her purse is hooked on to her bent arm, slapping against the backs of people’s chairs. She keeps her focus on her walk, never quite meeting my eye. I can sense she’s still upset with me after leaving yesterday morning.
Her reply to my text asking to meet was short and to the point. Only stating where and when she would be available to meet me. On top of the conversation I needed to have with her, I owed her an apology.
She reaches my table and examines the pub as she removes her hoodie, draping it over the back of her stool. She inhales a deep breath as she climbs into her seat, pursing her lips.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I say.
She shifts her gaze from the table to me. “Yeah. It’s good to know you’re okay.” Her shoulders tense and her gaze wanders, focusing on whatever is over my shoulder behind me.
I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “Abby, I’m sorry I snuck out yesterday morning. You were sound asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
She purses her lips again, clearly angry with me. “Well, I would have much rather you wake me to tell me you’re leaving, than to wake up and find you had disappeared.”
“I really am sorry,” I tell her, sliding my hand across the table. “I needed to talk to Logan.” I grab her hand, squeezing it.
She twists her mouth in thought, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows still dipped in anger. I hold her hand, hoping she can forgive me. The last thing I want is to push her away when I need her the most. I’d repaired the damage done between me and Logan, now I needed to mend the damage between me and Abby.
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, finally giving me a reluctant smile. She pulls her hand out from mine and slaps the table. “You can start making it up to me by ordering me a drink and some Irish nachos.”
I laugh. “Irish nachos?”
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “You’ve never had them before?”
“No. I’ve never been here.”
“Really?” she asks, dropping her jaw. “Tons of pubs have them but this place has the best. I guess there’s a first time for everything, right?”
“Sure,” I answer, my stomach grumbling in agreement.
After the server comes over to take Abby’s order, she rests her arms on the table, clasping her hands under her chin. Her expression has now softened, anger replaced with concern. “So, how was it when you went home? Was Logan upset when you told him you were leaving him?”
I’m in the middle of sipping my watered-down drink when I stare at Abby with widened eyes. Slowly, I lower my drink, placing it back down onto the cardboard coaster. My back lands against the wooden bars of my barstool. “I didn’t leave Logan.”
“What?” Her back shoots up, straightening in her seat. Our server returns and places the basket of cheddar covered potato chips in front of us, setting Abby’s Bloody Mary down in front of her. He walks away, leaving us to continue our conversation.
Leaning forward, I rest my arm on the edge of the table. “I never said I was leaving him, Abby. I just needed some time to sort everything out.”
“You only needed one night to sort it out? He cheated on you, Lena,” she insists. “What about the pictures? You saw them. I saw them.”
I shrug, knowing in the deepest part of me that Logan wasn’t having an affair with Natalie. Deep down, I think I always knew. For a time, my own inner turmoil was clouding the rational part of me, the part of me that knew Logan would never cheat on me.
We were being followed. Watched. Someone was trying to set him up. If it wasn’t Julian, it was most likely someone he hired. “The thing is, I don’t think Logan’s having an affair.”
She stabs her finger against the table, the tip bending and causing her flesh to turn from a pale pink to white. I sit back, stunned by her shift in mood.
“The pictures were pretty
