Irreplaceable (Harmony)

  “Ladies first.”

  The snow on the ground was perfect. Soft and fresh, it continued to drift down over us. My hands stung from the thin gloves I grabbed walking outside and my ears throbbed from lack of a hat, but I was having too much fun to stop or even care.

  Forming a small snowball, I rolled it on the ground. I watched mesmerized as it grew bigger and bigger, amazed at how easily it created the base.

  Luke walked over carrying the belly for it, and I burst out laughing. The ball was more oval than round, and his expression changed from proud to insulted.

  He dropped it in place on top of mine, and when he stepped back to admire our unfinished masterpiece, he slipped, stumbling over his own feet and landing on his back. He laughed so loudly I could’ve sworn it was coming through surround-sound speakers.

  “Need a hand?” My eyes were filled with unshed tears from the endless laughter that poured out of me as I reached down. His face brightened and lips curled up, and before I had time to react, I saw the spark of mischief in his eye.

  It was too late. He dragged me down beside him.

  With a childlike giggle, I let out a deep breath, taking in the glorious view above. I didn’t care that the cold was burning through my skin, my sweater buried in snow. The night sky was lit by the reflection in the snow of the bright stars above us. My eyes grew heavier the longer we lay there until I felt Luke sit up.

  “I’m drunk,” he grumbled, staring off at the woods.

  “I didn’t even think you knew what alcohol was,” I admitted, giggling again. He was always so levelheaded—especially compared to Caleb.

  “I’ll have you know I’ve been to a few keggers in my day.” He looked back, offended.

  I raised an eyebrow, then blew out a deep, gurgled laugh.

  “All right, one,” he confessed. “But I dated a girl once who liked to party. She’d stop by my dorm after curfew and damn, was it always a night to remember.”

  “Luke!” I swatted him on the arm. I’d never heard him talk like that before. “I’m appalled, but relieved, to know you’re not a virgin.”

  “A virgin!? Hey, Caleb isn’t the only Townsend man who knows how to please a woman.”

  A light flickered on at Logan’s house, drawing both our attention.

  “Maybe Julia’s there,” I suggested, raising an eyebrow. “I would go see, but then I might run into you-know-who.”

  “Well, if you see the girl, maybe you’ll tell her she’s dating a douchebag.” He stood and walked to my back porch, grabbing the tequila bottle and taking a long swig.

  “Not my place,” I sang out.

  Luke must’ve sensed I didn’t like where the conversation was heading because he called out, “Show me your wings, angel!”

  I smiled. As if I could transport myself to the past as a child in my grandparents’ backyard, I closed my eyes and moved my arms and legs, creating a beautiful angel.

  My body was warm from the liquor, but the chill from the snow soaked through to the bone. The weight in my arms and legs took over, and slowly I began to drift into the night when the crunch of snow and an “Oh, shit!” from Luke brought me back.

  “Get up!”

  I opened my eyes, my carefree smile falling away, only to find a dark, familiar figure standing over me. My glossy eyes readjusted to the darkness, slowly revealing Logan’s taut jaw and livid expression. I was too drunk to care, instead letting my gaze travel down his lean body, admiring the way his strong chest bulged from his dark wool coat.

  His damp hair led my thoughts straight to him in the shower—an image I’d dreamed about multiple times before that fateful night—but even still, that thought alone held my attention. His hair was tousled just enough to help me visualize the way he must run his hands through it when he steps out of the shower. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen.

  Every inch of thrill inside me skyrocketed to life. I found myself becoming heated and aroused, and less frozen to the ground.

  Why is he here? I thought he was gone for good. I guess that’s the problem with being neighbors.

  “So help me, God, Cassandra.” He ran his hands over his face with an exasperated sigh. “You can either get up and walk back inside your house, or I’ll carry your ass to mine.” His voice was thick, serious, and surprisingly unpleasant, reminding me why I’d been trying to block him out all week to begin with.

  Buzz kill.

  I sat up on my elbows and scoffed. “No!” I exclaimed before falling back into my outline in the snow, grinning to myself.

  Luke was there instantly when Logan reached down to me. “Hey, relax. I’ll take her inside. She was just trying to have some fun.”

  Logan stood straight again to acknowledge him, shooting daggers, with his jaw clenched in a fury. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”

  “What the hell is going on that you had to wake me at…oh, Cassandra’s having a play date.” Jax’s chuckle rumbled through the night as he approached us. If I’d had half my wits, I would’ve been humiliated. “This is why you made me come out here to help you? ‘Cause she’s hooking up?”

  Jax looked to me and winked. “Good for you, baby. Now carry on, and I’ll get my big brother back to bed.” Jax put his arm on Logan’s shoulder, only to have it ripped away in the same instant.

  “Take Luke back home to sleep it off in the guest room.”

  “I’m fine—”

  Logan took two steps toward him, his jaw tight under the skin. “If you weren’t Caleb’s kid brother, I’d leave you to pass out here and fucking freeze.”

  “Logan!” I yelled. “What the hell is your problem!?”

  I sat back up and attempted to pull myself to stand until the ground began to spin. Suddenly I was going down headfirst, so I used all my weight to throw myself back, falling on my ass. With my head hung low between my knees, buried in my hands, vomit began rising, too quickly to stop.

  No, no, no!

  I swallowed the burn back down, making a face at the acidic taste and rancid burn, then looked over at Luke. He gave a sympathetic shrug, and I could tell he was sobering up. I nodded, reassuring him I was all right, and watched him walk away with Jax.

  “Come on.” Logan’s hand extended down to me. I slapped it away.

  “Cassandra.” He sighed. “You know I will carry you in there, sweet—” He stopped, unable to say it. His eyes dropped, and the guilt in them only fueled the fire burning inside me.

  I wanted to laugh. I wasn’t his sweetheart, and I was all too aware of that.

  Taking a quick breath to find my balance, I scrambled to my feet, my body rocking side to side, head complaining. The stiffness in my joints and soreness in my chest were nothing compared to the anger thundering though my entire system.

  “That’s right, I’m not your sweetheart, so you can’t tell me what to do!”

  “You’re drunk. I’m putting you to bed,” he demanded, and I snapped.

  My body swayed forward and we were face to face, my lips almost touching . “I’m sure your bed is already full of enough sluts to keep you busy tonight,” I slurred venomously.

  His hands clutched my shoulders, stabilizing me.

  “Get off me, you ass!” I shoved him away.

  His eyes darkened as he clutched me tighter, his back teeth grinding. “Cassandra,” he warned, but I couldn’t stop. I pushed against him with all my strength, and he released his hold on me.

  “What!? What do you want from me!?” I yelled, stepping back, arms stretched out. Then it dawned on me. My eyes narrowed into menacing slits. “Oh, wait, I remember. You want to fuck me. Well, here I am! What are you waiting for, huh?”

  He stood there, silently stoic.

  “You want me? Come and get me.” I yanked my freezing, wet hoodie over my head followed by the white thermal underneath, leaving me exposed in a pink cotton bra.

  He stepped closer, intent on stopping my actions, but I continued backing away, nearly stumbling to the ground. By some luck,
I managed to steady myself, rage controlling my moves.

  My fingers worked quickly to undo the button of my jeans, but his hands were there, stopping me before I could tug the zipper down. I smacked his hand away and looked up to see his brows lowered over his glistening eyes, staring at my chest covered in deep-yellow bruises.

  I snorted a half sob, half chuckle. “Oh, right, now you don’t want me anymore—now that I’m damaged goods, now that you broke my heart and sent me off to get run down!” I poked my finger at his chest. “You should have stopped me from driving! Stopped me from leaving! Stopped me from ever falling in love with you!”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth, breathless, speechless. Love? I gasped, staring dumbly at the ground, tears prickling my eyes.

  “No.” It spilled in a tiny whisper from my lips. No no no. I ached to take it back—not my confession to him, but from my own ears. I never loved him, did I? My head was spinning, and before I could figure it out, his rough, broken voice penetrated the silence.

  “Cassandra.”

  I lifted my head slowly, meeting his glossy eyes that held so much tenderness I had to force myself to look away. It brought forth too many memories of the last few months I’d spent with him. I sucked in a chilly breath of air and released it again and again.

  My hands trembled as I held them up to stop him from coming any closer when I heard his footsteps in the snow.

  “No.” I wiped away a stray tear. I needed to stay strong. I took another breath and met his gaze. “You don’t get to be all nice now. You don’t get to waltz back into my life as though nothing happened. I’m tired of this—tired of you playing games with me.” My chin quivered, my teeth catching my bottom lip to calm it. I took another breath, closing my eyes as it refilled my lungs.

  “You drive me insane. Do you understand that? Do you realize what you’ve done to me?” My hands flew up, gripping the sides of my head, pulling at my hair. “You made me feel all those things. Why?” My voice grew louder as the war raged inside me, and my arms dropped to my sides. “Why did you do this to me? Why did you make you me care about you? Why? Answer me!”

  He said nothing.

  Unable to control myself any longer, I barreled forward and smacked him hard against the chest. “Answer me, God damn it!”

  It felt good, but I knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t me. I didn’t know who I was anymore.

  Logan didn’t even stumble back. His strong body took each blow with ease as he let me unload on him.

  “Why? Please, tell me why!” I screamed, shoving him again and again. “I wanted you, all of you, and it was just a game! Why? Do you like seeing me suffering—dying inside every time you’re near? Because even after what you did, what you said to me, I still feel you there, in my broken heart. You’re a part of me, and I hate you for that! So tell me why! Please!” I continued, tears raining down my face, my palms banging against his chest over and over until my head dropped forward and rested there.

  “I thought you were different, but it was all a game,” I finished, panting.

  My voice was not my own. Defeated, my knees gave out, causing me to slump down. He caught me before I hit the ground and pulled me up, cradling me in his arms, where I cried. It hurt everywhere as he carried me inside.

  Blood pounded in my ears and nausea settled over me as my anger washed away, and I was left with my raw, vulnerable pain, laid out for him to see. With my head buried in his neck, tears covering my face, I let it all out in a shattered whisper.

  “You terrify me. I fight so…so hard to keep my guard up, to push you away… even if that means you’ll hate me. Everyone can hate me for pushing you away…but they don’t know. They don’t feel it. It hurts. Everything hurts, ‘cause I miss you. I miss us.” I shook my head violently. “I can’t. I can’t.”

  “Shhh, you need rest right now.” We were in my bedroom, and he laid me down on the mattress gently.

  “I know what you’re doing, and I know that it’s working. But I can’t…I can’t, Logan, please…” My eyelids were heavy, a fog setting in as they drifted shut. I wasn’t sure whether I said it aloud, but I longed for him to hear me as I repeated “Don’t hurt me” until I was taken away into the darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  Naked

  Bright, glaring light assaulted my eyelids, causing my face to scrunch, squeezing them tightly. With a zombie-like groan, I pulled away from my liquor-fueled slumber. In one swift motion, I whipped my pounding head around, burying it under my pillow. The movement was too quick and my head too heavy; nausea hit instantly. I choked down the rising bile and grabbed my head.

  “Oh, God,” I croaked.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  My eyes flew open, my body painfully rigid.

  What is he doing here?

  “On the side table. Drink all of it.”

  I lifted my head, hair wild around my face, just enough to see the tall glass of water with two oval pills sitting beside it. As much as I wanted to tell him to get the hell out, my throat was too parched.

  First things first: with a trembling hand, I lifted the water slowly and savored the coolness breaking through, hydrating me back to the living. I popped the pills a second later, then lay back with a sigh, twisting around to stare at the ceiling. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right then, and the memory of the previous night was still nothing but a blur.

  A sharp burn tore through my stomach, followed by a low growl. Definitely should’ve eaten more last night. I rubbed my hand over my abs under the blanket and froze.

  What the hell!?

  With my heart rate picking up as my thought process jolted back to life, blood rushed to my cheeks, pushing me faster through the fog. I sat up on my elbows, clutching the blanket to my chest, and narrowed my eyes at the infuriatingly beautiful man staring back at me, unaffected.

  “Where the hell are my clothes!?”

  Logan sat in the armchair across from my bed, his leg slung over his knee, giving nothing away in his expression.

  “You were soaked to the bone.”

  “So you stripped me down?”

  “To be honest, you did most of the work for me.”

  What? What happened last night?

  Unable to support myself any longer, I fell back onto the pillows and closed my eyes, begging the memories to return. Logan remained silent, as if waiting for it all to come back to me. It wasn’t long before I was watching a slow-moving picture in my foggy mind, reliving the events of the past night. It was all there: the memory of me screaming at him, telling him to screw me, and then attacking him until I could stand no longer. I had no clear recollection what all I’d said to him, only remembering the image of him standing there, stoic, taking each blow I delivered to his hard chest.

  I groaned for at least the third time that morning, holding my head and rolling to my side, feeling worse about myself.

  “Can you leave now, please?” My voice was hollow, and nothing more than a defeated whisper. I was too tired to fight with him.

  “Not yet. We need to talk first.”

  “I have nothing to say.” I couldn’t look at him now. I hated even talking to him—not because I was angry about New Year’s or embarrassed by my actions; no, it was worse. I couldn’t bear to be around him because seeing him there for that one small moment in my bedroom, so gorgeous in a plain white tee and black pajama pants, caused my entire existence to still call out to him.

  “I have plenty to say, and I need for you to listen. Understand?” His voice grew darker, and my anger brewed.

  With a huff, I gripped the covers that were half covering my face, resisting the urge to peer over at him. “I’m not a child!”

  “Considering your actions last night, I may beg to differ.”

  That was it. I wanted him out. I didn’t care that his mere presence left me strangely aroused, or that despite everything, I still longed to be in his arms. He needed to get out.

  I tore the blanket off my body
—which was covered only in pink lace panties—and climbed out of bed. Swallowing down the nausea the fast movement brought up and with one hand covering my breasts, I pointed to my bedroom door with the other.

  “Get the hell out of my house, Logan!”

  He stood, eyes on mine and not once straying down my body. He must’ve had a good-enough look while undressing me already.

  “No. Now lie back down before you hurt yourself.”

  I only saw red. “What is your problem? Why are you still here? Take a hint already!” I balled my free hand into a fist, calming myself. “You know what? Ah! Never mind. I already know why you’re here.” I tilted my head to the side. “It’s called guilt. Well, don’t sweat it—I survived.”

  He stalked toward me, standing a few feet directly in front of me with a tight jaw and hard eyes.

  “I fucked up with you. It’s the biggest regret I’ve ever had, and I endure it every second of every damn day. But I will not stand by and watch you act out like you did last night, getting drunk and nearly passing out in the shitty ten-degree weather. No, that’s not happening, because whether you want to believe it or not, I care about you. I have ever since that damned carnival, and I’m not going to let you hurt yourself because you can’t deal with how you feel about me.”

  “Feel about you?” I hissed. “You are such an egotistical ass! I thought you were done—walking away for good!”

  “Turns out no matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out of my head. That leaves only one choice: you will get over yourself and let me in!”

  “Let you in?” I barked, laughing manically. “I did, and you treated me like dirt the moment it got rough!”

  “Fuck!” he roared. “You will forgive me, God damn it! You can’t stay mad at me forever. I won’t allow it.”

  “And I won’t let you make a fool of me twice!”

  “I won’t! Don’t you get it!? I can’t get you out of my head, Cassandra. Just give me a chance. Tell me you’re mine.”

  I inhaled through my nostrils, wanting him to see, to understand.

  “Listen to yourself. Two weeks! It’s been two weeks. So you tell me—is that all you think it takes to earn my forgiveness, my trust, and my love? I was with Mark for five years, loyal to a fault, and yet I’m unable to forgive him, so why should I forgive you?”