Hypothetical Heart (Farewell Fairwood #2)

Chapter 35

35

I hold Logan’s hand tightly in mine as we wander through the aisles of Meet in the Margins. Originally, I was only coming here to pick up a book I had pre-ordered, but Logan insisted on coming with me, and after encouraging me to look around for a bit, he is now holding an armful of books I’ve picked out.

“Any of these piquing your interest?” I ask, placing another one on the top of the stack.

“Of course.” He laughs. “Especially Billionaire and her Bodyguard. ” He pulls the book out of the stack, examining the cover.

I rip it from his grasp, regretting bringing it up. “Okay, let’s not talk about this.”

“I have a good idea,” he says. “We can buddy read these!”

I shake my head before thinking about it. “Do you not find it the least bit weird that these are the books I read?” I ask.

He gives me a stern look. “You really think that’s something I care about?”

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I’m sure a lot of boyfriends would have problems with their girlfriends reading sex scenes.”

Logan makes a pffft sound, like it’s a ridiculous idea. “Sweetheart, I don’t care what you read as long as you imagine me.”

My eyes widen in shock, and my cheeks flame. “Noted,” is all I manage to choke out.

We make our way up the stairs and near where there are even more bookshelves.

“I have something to show you,” Logan tells me, his hand squeezing mine tighter as he pulls me with him toward one of the shelves on the back wall.

“What is it?” I ask, confused.

I’m pressed into his side as he reaches up, grabbing a book off the top shelf.

“Open it,” he says, handing it down to me.

“What do you mean open–” I go to flip through the pages only to find that the book is fake. The center of all the pages are cut out, turning the book into a secret hiding spot.

I pull the ring box out, and Logan takes the book from my hand, setting it on the shelf.

“Logan–” Please tell me he’s not proposing.

It’s not that I don’t love him because I really, really do. It’s the fact that we are freshly nineteen, we’ve barely been together a month. Him proposing now would be way too soon.

“I’m not getting down on one knee,” he assures me, as if he can read my mind. “Not yet, at least.”

“Then what is this?” I eye the black, velvet box, suddenly self-conscious that I got the wrong idea so quickly.

Now, all I can worry about is whether or not there is a reason for this gift that I’m forgetting.

“There’s no reason for it,” Logan says, looking between me and the ring box in my hand.

I’m not kidding. I’m starting to worry he can seriously read my mind, and if that’s the case, I’m going to have to start storing away some of my not-so-PG thoughts.

I cradle the box between both of my hands, slowly popping the lid and keeping my eyes on Logan. I don’t look down at the ring itself until he motions for me to, and when I do, I’m met with the sight of the most perfect piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen.

“Logan…” I trail off, my eyes welling with emotion. “This is so pretty.”

“You like it?” he asks, resting a hand on my arm.

I slip it over my right-hand ring finger, the perfect fit. “How’d you know my ring size?”

“Genevieve,” is all he says. I could have guessed that.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my height. “Thank you, Logan.”

He laughs before saying, “You know I love you, right?”

“What?” My body turns to stone, but not because it’s unexpected. He’s shared the sentiment before. It’s just that I know this means something different this time.

It’s not the type of love we’ve grown up receiving from all our friends. This is much, much bigger.

“Winnie, sweetheart, I’m so in love with you. I always have been.” I nod, feeling and knowing the declaration all the same. “I know it’s scary. I get scared too sometimes, but there is nothing as terrifying as the idea of not loving you for the rest of my life.” He takes a beat, and we both take a deep breath. “I know bad things happen in life, and that makes love look hard, but that’s not our love. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world.”

I look between him and the ring, the tears against my waterline threatening to fall. His confession sears through me, giving me every bit of confidence that I’m going to spend the rest of my life hopelessly in love with this boy.

Logan thumbs a single tear off my cheek, bending slightly at the knee so we’re face to face.

“I love you,” I sputter out. “I know you, and I know how utterly good you are, and I love all the ways you care about me and other people. You would do anything for anyone, and I love everything about you. I always have.”

His lips meld into mine, kissing me in a way that is different from all the other times. This one is pure love pouring out of both of us, whooshing around us in a wind tunnel full of adoration.

“Come on,” he says when he pulls away, his arm falling around my waist.

We check out and Logan buys the stack of books he had been carrying around for me, despite my refusal, before leaving the store.

The entire ride back to his house, Logan keeps one hand on the wheel and one hand in mine. His finger rubs over the new ring, pulling my hand up onto the dash every once in a while, smiling when the streetlights hit the pink stone.

“What kind of stone is this?” I ask when we hit a red light.

“It’s a pink diamond,” he says. “I knew you’d like anything I picked, and that was the only ring that had the right type of band and stone shape.”

I fiddle with the band, spinning it around my finger while I continue admiring the diamond. “I love it, Logan. Seriously.”

“Of course.” He smiles, looking over at me.

Logan pulls his Benz into the driveway of his house, where Wren is standing, waiting on the front porch.

“I’m sorry about her,” he warns, watching her hurry down the steps toward us.

I open my own door, making him scowl. “You know I love your mom.”

Logan follows me out, and by the time he gets to the passenger side of the car, Wren has already wrapped me in her arms.

“Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” She’s smiling ear to ear, rocking the two of us back and forth. I wasn’t sure if I was going to see her before we went back to New York since she and Mr. Callaghan had been in Europe.

“Me too.” My voice shakes with every movement. “How was Paris?”

She shrugs, pulling away and guiding Logan and me into the house. “Same old, same old.”

They’ve been to so many different places, I can’t even keep count, but Paris most of all.

“Hey, mom.” Logan waves once we’re in the entryway. “Good to see you too.”

Wren unwraps her arm from around my shoulder, nearing her son. “I see you more than I see Winnie,” she says, encasing Logan in a hug.

“Are you making dinner tonight?” he asks, ignoring her. It might already be dark out, but it’s never too late for my boyfriend to eat a homemade dinner.

“It’s already in the oven,” she replies knowingly.

Our conversation is interrupted by the sound of a bark coming from next door. I curse under my breath. I completely forgot about my dog. “I should probably go see her,” I tell Logan.

Suzie most definitely watched from the backyard as Logan and I pulled into the driveway, and her slew of barking likely started because she was upset we never came to say hello to her.

She’s been elated that Logan and I have been home to see her since she’s just getting used to my dad taking care of her while we’re in New York.

“Bring her over here,” Logan says.

I shake my head. “No, no. She’s messy, and I don’t want her dirtying the place.”

Wren waves me off. “It’s no problem. The cleaners are coming tomorrow anyway.”

“Are you sure?” I ask again, and they both nod.

“I’ll come with you,” Logan tells me, grabbing a jacket out of the coat closet nearby and securing it over my shoulders.

We walk out of the Callaghan house and over to the side gate where Susie is not-so-patiently waiting for us. I see her face peering through the crack of the fence, and I know her tail wags faster at the sight of us by the sound it makes thumping against the wood.

“Hi, girl.” Logan opens the fence, no worry in the world about where she’s going to go because Suzie is obsessed with my boyfriend–her dad.

She flashes between the two of us like she doesn’t know who to focus her attention on, but then Logan pets behind her ear, and she leans into him like a sunflower toward the sun.

“And I’m chopped liver,” I deadpan, glaring at Logan.

He puts his hands up in surrender, and when Suzie notices her lack of affection, she turns toward me with a frown.

“Whatever.” I lean down, not being able to help myself from running my hands through her soft fur. “I still love you.”

“Come on, girls. My mom’s waiting,” Logan says, smiling down at the both of us.

A fter dinner, Logan and I end up taking Suzie for a walk around the neighborhood. It was already cold outside, but, we rushed back to my house once it started raining. As soon as we get back inside, we fall right back into the same patterns.

Both of us lay on my bed; I’m reading one of the books he bought me at Meet in the Margins while Logan keeps on running his hand over my back while the other holds my book open for me.

We stay like this for a while, up to the point where Logan’s soothing motions almost make me fall asleep.

“Can we get ice cream from your house?” I ask, sitting up while I rub my eyes.

“Yeah,” Logan stands from my bed. “I’ll go get it. Do you want your usual?”

“Yes, please!” I smile, grabbing my book and flinging my arms aroundhis shoulders.

He picks me up and carries me in a piggyback down the stairs. Suzie hops off of her dog bed which sits between my bed and the bathroom door, trotting ahead of us. While Logan goes over to his house, I head into the living room.

The rain patters softly against the windows, casting a gentle rhythm throughout the house. I’m alone in the living room–since my dad’s at the hospital–while Logan goes next door. I’m surrounded by the comforting scent of the candle I lit that’s burning on the kitchen island. A warm, golden glow from the fireplace bathes the room in a soft light, making it the perfect refuge from the storm outside.

I sit on the floor, my back resting against the couch, flipping through an old photo album I found on one of the shelves. Logan sits next to me suddenly, a bowl of ice cream in each hand. His arm casually drapes over the back of the couch, handing me a bowl over my shoulder.

“Look at this one,” I say, my voice tinged with nostalgia as I point to a picture of us as kids, grinning widely with mud smeared on our faces. “We were such a mess.”

Logan chuckles, leaning in closer to get a better look. “I remember that day. We got in so much trouble for ruining those new clothes.”

I laugh, and the sound echoes through the room. “It was worth it.”

A comfortable silence settles between us as we continue to flip through the pages. The rain outside seems to intensify, the sound growing louder. I shiver slightly, and without hesitation, Logan reaches over and pulls a blanket around my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I murmur, looking up at him with a grateful smile.

Once the photo albums are put away, Logan grabs my book off the kitchen counter and opens it to where I have it bookmarked.

“Logan, wait–” I get up, keeping the blanket wrapped around me because I know exactly what page I left off on.

“Embarrassed?” He laughs, starting to walk over to me as he scans the pages.

I shrug. “No, not at all.”

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the world outside the living room ceases to exist.

The rain continues to pour outside, a soothing backdrop to the moment unfolding in the living room. A look passes over Logan’s face that tells me he knows what I'm thinking about, and there’s a large part of me that’s happy he’s aware.

Logan continues inching closer to me, looking like he knows exactly what he’s going to do.

“Can I do that to you?” I whisper when he gets closer.

I’m pressed against the back of the couch when he gently cups my face, kissing me.

He pulls back slightly, searching my eyes for any hesitation. Seeing none, he whispers, “You want to?” His hands slide down my waist like he’s preparing to make this a mutual exchange.

I nod, a soft smile playing on my lips. “I want to, but I don’t need you to do anything to me.”

“What?” he asks, completely baffled. “Why?”

“I don’t need you to,” I tell him.

He places a hand on my hip. “But I want to,” he argues, “Are you worried I can’t make you come?”

“What?” I repeat his question, blood rushing to my cheeks. “No, I just want to do this first. I don’t think there needs to be any type of one-for-one obligation.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

I lean in to kiss him again as we make our way around the couch, my hands trailing down his chest. Logan shivers under my touch, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through him. My fingers fall to the edge of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his bare skin before I shove him so he’s sitting.

Logan’s breath hitches as I move lower, my hands working to undo his belt and pants. He lifts his hips slightly, helping me slide them down. I look up at him before shifting my attention downward.

“Holy shit, Logan.” I can’t hold back my shock when I get my first look at my boyfriend's dick. “You’re huge. ”

He blushes and tries to smile, but he’s clearly overwhelmed.

I take my time, my touch gentle yet firm, before I put him in my mouth, which makes Logan tangle his hands in my hair.

Logan’s breath comes in shallow gasps and I try to move with confidence, listening to his every reaction, adjusting my pace and pressure to match his needs.

“Is this okay?” I ask, pulling away when both his hands clench my hair a bit tighter.

“Fuck,” he sighs. “More than okay, sweetheart.”

The connection between us is palpable, each touch and glance, an affirmation of how he feels for me. Logan’s eyes close, his head tilting back as he surrenders to the feeling.

As Logan’s breaths grow ragged, I slow my rhythm, drawing out the moment. He looks down at me, our eyes locking once more, and he whispers my name, his voice thick with emotion. “Winnie...”

With a final, gentle touch, Logan reaches his peak, a shuddering sigh escaping his lips. I grimace slightly when he fills my mouth, and he quickly grabs tissues off the coffee table and holds them to my mouth.

“Don’t,” he says sternly, knowing I don’t want to swallow.

Logan gets rid of the tissues before meeting me back on the couch. The rain continues its steady rhythm outside, a serene background noise to the quiet contentment filling the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything to you?” he asks again, clearly eager to pleasure me in the same way.

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. That was for you.”

Logan kisses the top of my head, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on my skin. “I love you,” he whispers. “You’re the most perfect thing in the world.”

I know he’s not just saying it because I gave him a blow job; he feels it deep in his chest just like I do.

I smile, my heart full. “I love you too, Logan.”

For the rest of the night, we lay there together, the world outside forgotten, wrapped in the warmth and happiness of the night.