LOGAN

I’ve never felt this kind of pain in my entire life.

Not when some jackass body-slammed me in high school.

Not when training for the army in hundred-degree weather had me vomiting my guts out.

And not when I nearly lost my life overseas.

This pain is indescribable. It feels like I’m heartbroken, yet it’s recovering at the same time. Every time I see Kayla, my heart molds together a little more, but each time she looks at me like a stranger, pieces chip away.

The moment my lips touched hers, I never wanted to let go. I wanted to breathe memories of us back into her as our mouths and tongues intertwined. I felt the way her body responded as if it never forgot, but everything about our past is gone. I can’t lose control around her again. I need to stay grounded so our relationship can form naturally, but I’m getting so desperate. I miss my Angel.

Although she’s agreed to start over with me, it still feels different. I’m on a completely different page than her, and I keep having to remind myself to take it slow. I pull back anytime I think I might be crossing the boundaries because, even though I remind myself of the reality, my heart doesn’t always remember.

Since our first date, things have gone a little smoother, and I feel some hope that maybe someday she’ll feel the way I feel about her. However, I try not to get my hopes up. I know she’s attracted to me, but I want the emotional aspect of a relationship, too. I hadn’t wanted that in years before her, so I know she’s the only one for me.

I hope she can feel the same way about me someday.

The following Wednesday, Kayla invites me over for dinner. We haven’t seen each other since Saturday, but we made sure to call and text each other every day. I’m not sure exactly where we stand, but I know she felt something when we kissed, and that’s something I can hold onto.

She answers the door in all smiles. I hold up a bag from Donny’s and grin.

“I brought dessert.”

She chuckles and lets me inside. “You have good taste.”

“I’ve been influenced a time or two.” I wink and follow her into the kitchen.

She walks to the stove and lowers the temperature of the burner. I watch as she effortlessly moves around the kitchen and then she looks over her shoulder and smiles. “What’s your favorite movie?”

She looks completely content in her element, and I can’t stop watching her and how happy she is tonight.

That same hopeful feeling surfaces and just as quick as it comes, I push it away.

“Well...” I ponder for a moment. “Considering the only movies I’ve watched over the past six months are either Christmas or Disney themed, I’d say anything without singing.” I smirk when she looks up at me.

“So, I guess asking you to watch a movie with me after dinner is out of the question?” She arches a brow and it almost feels like my Kayla is back.

“To be fair, we didn’t really watch movies, so I never cared what we watched,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

A blush creeps up her neck and cheeks. She looks stunning tonight. She always does, but tonight, she looks flawless without even trying. She’s still wearing her work clothes, which I one-hundred percent support. A tight pencil skirt that hugs her curves and goes all the way over her hips with a cream-colored blouse tucked inside. Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun with loose strands of hair falling along her hairline. A layer of red lipstick lines her lips and they look so fucking kissable, it pains me to not kiss them.

“And here I thought you were a gentleman through and through,” she teases, the corner of her lips tilting up.

“Oh, I’m very much a gentleman.” She brings the wooden spoon out of the pot she’s stirring and brings it up to her mouth and blows on it before tasting it. “I just wasn’t going to deny you what you begged me for.”

She spews the liquid contents from her mouth all over the counter as she gasps and laughs. “Oh my God,” she mutters, covering her mouth and wiping it off her face. “That was unexpected.”

“Sorry,” I say with laughter. “You started it.”

“I didn’t start anything!” she protests with a smile.

Things feel easy and natural with her again, and I can’t help the permanent smile on my face. I want to kiss her so badly, but things are starting to feel comfortable between us again, so I don’t want to push the boundaries too soon.

“Your stew was delicious,” I tell her as I help clean up. We talked over dinner, and slowly I felt the anxiety melt away.

“Thanks, it’s basically the only thing I can make.” She laughs. “You put everything in the slow cooker, return eight hours later, and voila!”

“Well, you cut a mean potato and carrots,” I mock, getting another smile out of her. I love her fucking smile. It’s what helped pull me out of some of my darkest days.

We settle in on the sofa together, and even though I want to wrap her up in my arms, I keep my distance and sit near her so we can still talk. We discuss which movie to pick that we’ll both enjoy. Well, mostly her because I don’t have the heart to deny her of anything she suggests. Especially when it’s a movie that will have her smiling and laughing.

“Oh, I should take the dogs out really quick,” she says, but I don’t want her to miss the movie so I grab her hand and pull her back down.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh. Okay, thanks.” She settles back onto the couch. I round up the troops and take them out the back. Kayla has a little laundry room back there, so I stand and wait for them as they sniff around.

Just as I’m about to bring them back in, I glance around and see a black duffle bag out of the corner of my eye.

I blink, trying to clear my eyes so I can make sure what I’m seeing is real. It’s the duffle bag Kayla carried out of the drug house the day she smacked her head on the cement. I’ve never asked her about it because I knew she wouldn’t remember, but not knowing the backstory on why she was there to begin with has been killing me inside.

I pick the bag up and examine it. I bring the dogs back in and set the bag down on the table. Just as I’m unzipping it, Kayla pops up from behind me.

“Whatcha doing?”

I swallow, bracing for her reaction, but when she sees me with the bag, her eyes narrow as if she’d never seen it before.

“What’s that?”

Licking my lips, I brush a hand through my hair and contemplate on how to explain this to her. “You were carrying this bag back to your car, the day of the accident. I never asked about it because I figured you wouldn’t remember, and I’ve been trying to put the pieces together of why you would’ve been at that house that day ever since.”

“So, you think whatever’s inside might give us those answers?” she inquires, curious to hear more about that day. I ignore the doctor’s orders and decide I’m going to tell her anyway. She may never remember anyway, so she might as well hear the story from me.

“Well, yeah.” I shift my body, nervous to say my next words. “I’m really hoping there aren’t drugs in here.”

“Logan!” she screeches, eyes widening. “I did not buy drugs.”

“You were walking out of a drug house that I was on a stakeout for, so when I saw you, I didn’t know what to think. Not being able to run after you and hold you—it was one of the worst moments of my life.”

“It was a drug house?” she gasps. She blinks as if she’s trying to figure out a hard math problem, and I feel guilty for putting that stress on her. “Why would I be in a drug house? Are you sure that’s what it was?”

“Positive. We’ve been tracking them for months. The day they were supposed to get a huge shipment in was the same day of the incident, and once an ambulance was called, we suspected they called it off.”

“So, I went inside and came out with a duffle bag?” she asks for clarification. I can tell her mind is spinning now and wonder if maybe I should stop.

“Yes. This duffle bag.”

Her eyes lower and study the bag. “Can I open it?”

I push it closer toward her. “Of course. It’s yours.”

She sucks her lips into her mouth, and I can tell she’s nervous. Unzipping the bag, she holds in a breath and releases it as soon as she pulls it wide open.

“Oh.”

“What?” I blurt out.

“It’s all my work pamphlets and samples.” She reaches inside and begins pulling stuff out. “Here’s one of my books with all the different paint pallets I like to use. This one has samples of dining room designs. This one is full of schematics of built-in bar designs.” She lingers for a moment as she flips through them.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s just a weird combo. Usually I was only in charge of small projects, so I don’t remember overseeing anything this large.”

“Well, you probably advanced or got promoted within the past two years.”

“I know, that’s what Lucy had said, but the people I would’ve needed to contract is beyond my level even at a promotional position.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I’m not sure.” She digs around, pulling out more samples and a sketchpad. “This looks like one of my drawings.”

I tilt my head to get a better look at it, but I can’t really figure out what I’m looking at. “I probably drew it out on here before transferring it to my iPad editor app where I add in more details.” Her eyes shoot open wider. “I bet it’s still on my iPad!”

She takes off before I can ask what she’s talking about. Returning less than two minutes later, she has her iPad in hand and her fingers are swiping around.

“I didn’t even think about it till now, because Allie, one of my colleagues, took over my client files, but all my sketches and pictures are saved to the iCloud. I should have every single photo I took of the house on here.”

“Whoa, seriously? That could be huge for my case.” I stand next to her and watch as she scrolls through the images.

“Here. This must be it. Looks like Allie uploaded new pictures too.”

“Can I see?”

She hands it over, and I frantically begin looking at all the photos. There are so many, I barely have time to really put the pieces together, but I stop scrolling as soon as I see the built-in bar.

“What’s this here?” I point to a corner where it looks like a hidden box is built underneath the bar top.

“I’m not really sure.” She narrows her eyes, trying to study it. “I have the client notes on my laptop!”

She runs off before I can comprehend what she’s doing. With her laptop in hand, she returns and sits at the table.

“All the notes I wrote should be in my work files and Allie probably continued adding to them.” She’s frantically clicking and typing until she pulls a file up. “Here it is.”

Sitting down next to her, I shift my body so I can read the screen. Our bodies are touching and I feel her shiver against me. I know I felt the way her body reacted when I kissed her, but I still have so much doubt. I’m not trying to build it up in my head that maybe she could start to have feelings for me again, but I can’t help the thought of that possibility.

“What do the notes say?” I ask, shifting the tension back to the files.

“It says here they wanted a remodel with unique and rare storage ideas to hide personal things, like documents, insurance papers, medical records and such. Basically, they wanted areas people wouldn’t think to look rather than the usual hole behind the painting on the wall.”

“Is that a normal request?” I ask.

“I’ve never done anything like that before within my first year. I don’t know about recently obviously, but considering you’re saying it’s a drug house, it makes more sense.”

“Yeah, it does. They were preparing to have secret spaces to keep their drug money and higher-end drugs in, in case they ever got searched or a ‘customer’ decided to help themselves. You wouldn’t believe the hiding places we’ve found in drug houses. Some obvious, some not at all. Some in the best neighborhoods and some in the worst parts. You really don’t know until you start putting the pieces together.”

“Wait.” She sits up taller and looks like her mind is going a million miles an hour. “So, they hired a designer to basically come in and point out different hiding places for their drugs and money? And that designer was me.”

––––––––

KAYLA

Anxiety weighs on my shoulders as soon as realization surfaces. I continue reading through my notes and feel completely duped by this client. I don’t know if I was just career-hungry and completely ignored the signs, or if they took advantage of me. I would’ve never guessed I was helping criminals, considering they lived in one of the best neighborhoods in Oak Groves.

I study the pictures again, now seeing all the obvious signs of what Logan’s telling me. If they’ve been onto them for months, then I have no doubt in my mind that everything we’re speculating is exactly what was happening all along.

“I can’t believe this,” I mutter, reading over more notes. “Allie’s notes say the project should be finished within the next week.”

“That’s probably when they rescheduled their big drug order to be delivered so they’d have places to hide it all,” Logan says, talking mostly to himself. “Can I use this?” he points to my iPad. “Your photos and notes could help us nail this case once and for all.”

“Really?” I ask, hopeful that at least if anything, my files will give them enough information to get these guys. If it weren’t for that client, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

“If we serve them with a search warrant and they think everything’s hidden, they won’t fight it. However, they won’t realize that we’ll know where to look. Finding the money will only give us probable cause to keep digging, but finding the actual drugs will cement this case closed.”

“That’s awesome! Yeah, if it’ll help the PD, you can have whatever you want.”

He stands, pulling out his phone to call someone. “I’m going to call my partner, Brantley, and see if we can schedule a meeting with our supervisor—”

His words cut off before he finishes his sentence. He drops the call before anyone answers.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What is it?”

“A girl entered the house during our first stakeout who’s my supervisor’s daughter. We decided not to tell him, in case he confronted her about it. We were afraid she’d tell the leader the cops were onto him and ruin the case.”

I blink a few times, wishing I could clear my head and force those memories out.

“Was she young?” I ask.

“She’s eighteen, I believe. So, if she’s involved in any way, she’d be tried as an adult. But depending on the level of her involvement, she could get time. Well, maybe. I’m sure my supervisor would pull some strings to just get her a slap on the wrist.”

“Can’t you tell him about all the other details you have and just leave out the part with his daughter?”

“Yeah, it’s my only option at this point. He’ll be pissed and probably give me some lecture about loyalty or some shit, but I don’t trust him to stay quiet. I’d rather she gets a slap on the wrist and a good scare than this guy go free because he was warned ahead of time.”

––––––––

My mind is still reeling from Logan’s revelation. I feel numb almost. Knowing that I was used as a pawn to secure their money and drugs has me in shock. Although I don’t remember any of it, the fact that it happened has me on the edge of my seat. I want to tell Allie to be careful and not get too close, but I know if she doesn’t get the job finished, it’ll be her ass on the line. Not to mention the owner would probably get suspicious and the whole thing would blow up in smoke.

Logan apologizes and leaves before the movie even begins with all the new evidence and duffle bag, and once I start overthinking everything, I decide I need to clear my head. I take the dogs out for a walk and head down to Donny’s.

“Well, hello there!” Donny greets us as soon as we walk in. “Wasn’t expecting to see you again today.”

I smile with a sigh. “I know. It’s been that kind of day.”

I skip my donut this time and just get some for the dogs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he calls out.

I look over my shoulder and smile. “You sure will.”

Going to Donny’s is the only constant thing in my life right now, as crazy as it sounds. I go to work and it all feels like a foreign country. New colleagues, new clients, a boss who treats me like a piece of leftover spinach in his teeth. Then I go home and I no longer recognize the girl in the mirror. I wouldn’t say I’ve aged much in the last two years but I’m not the same person. Courtney and Viola are both married and can’t just come over on a whim. My dogs and Donny’s. The only two things that remained the same.

As I’m lying in bed analyzing the past few weeks of my life and wondering if I’ll ever get back to normal, my phone goes off with a text message from Logan.

I read his message twice and think about the way he kissed me before he left. It was a sweet, almost innocent kiss on the forehead, but it stirred something inside me. He’s been so patient with me. So understanding and flexible. He doesn’t push but still shows me how much he cares and even loves me by his actions. I don’t remember ever having that before. I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like between us.

Well, I have imagined it. Fantasized, maybe. But only because he’s so damn charming and fills out a pair of dress pants like no other man I’ve seen. He’s muscular in all the right places, and I can only predict how well he put those muscles to good use when we were in bed together. I may have lost part of my memory, but I’m not blind. I know the obvious attraction is there, but could I ever have feelings for him like that again?

With those thoughts in my mind, I decide to message him back.

Nervous, I hit send and set my phone back down on the nightstand. I wish he hadn’t left in such a hurry tonight, but I understand why he had to. I was hoping to kiss him goodnight. If the question was based on being attracted to him only, that’d be a no-brainer. I don’t see how anyone couldn’t be attracted to him, but what we had in the past was so much more than that. I know it’s what he deserves, and I think I owe it to both of us to see if the emotional parts of being in a relationship is something that is still between us, regardless of my memory.

Reading his message sends tingles down my spine. It’s not the first time he’s said that to me—that he’ll always be there for me. Never having that kind of love and support growing up, I almost don’t know how to respond to his kind words.

K: Goodnight, Detective. Good luck with your case.

I silence my phone for the night and set my alarm for work in the morning. I make a mental note to speak with Allie first thing. I don’t want them putting her in danger like they did me, so without telling her the full details, I need to warn her.

Two hours later and my brain is still running in circles. I can’t get Logan off my mind. Or the case. Or the fucking client. It’s starting to make me feel anxious, and I don’t remember ever feeling this anxious before the incident. Perhaps it’s something I’d been dealing with beforehand, but it feels new to me now.

I toss and turn; the dogs jump off and on the bed getting annoyed with my restlessness. Checking the time, I see it’s almost one a.m.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, knowing waking up in six hours for work is going to suck. I decide to get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen and indulge in one of Courtney’s blueberry muffins. Maybe a full stomach will help me fall asleep.

Half an hour later and I’m still wide awake in my bed.

This freaking sucks.

Randomly, a memory pops into my head from before Viola and Travis were a couple. So, three or four years ago maybe. Courtney was giving Viola shit for all her booksleeves she hoards and being a book nerd always glued to her Kindle. That’s when Viola made the comment about Courtney storing her vibrator in one of her booksleeves and how it violated her precious BookBeau. I laugh at the memory, back when things were easy and less complicated.

“I have insomnia sometimes, okay?” Courtney defends, but not at all apologizing about it. “A good O before bed can really turn your brain off and help you fall asleep.”

“You’re such a pervert,” Viola teases, laughing. “What happened to just taking some Melatonin or drinking warm milk to help you fall asleep?”

“Well for starters, Melatonin isn’t nearly as fun as screaming into your pillow and passing out a happy fucking camper.”

I snort at their antics, wondering how two completely different people can be such great friends.

“I’d have to agree with Courtney on this one,” I interrupt. “A good, intense O before bed would make me sleep like a bear hibernating in the winter.”

“See?” Courtney motions to me with her hand. “She gets it.”

“You’re both ridiculous and need therapy,” Viola says. “Now if only I could erase my memory of the past five minutes.” She rolls her eyes.

“I’m sure there’s a spell for that.” Courtney mocks her love for Harry Potter.

“In fact, there is.” Viola smiles with pride. “Obliviate! A spell to erase memories.”

“Well there you go,” I say with a laugh, waving an invisible wand and tapping it on Viola’s head. “Memories erased!”

The memory makes me smile, and then I start wondering if Courtney had the right idea. I feel anxious and tense all the time, so maybe getting some relief is the answer. I don’t remember the last time I even had sex. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be with someone.

Shaking the heavy comforter off, I position myself in the middle of the bed until I’m relaxed. I close my eyes and picture Logan. His bright, green eyes. His soft, delicious lips. His broad and muscular physique. His strong hands and arms. Before long, I’m panting at just the thought of his hands and lips on me.

I lift my oversized shirt and slide my hand up to my breasts. I tossed my bra off hours ago, and my nipples are already hard from the ceiling fan circulating a breeze in the room. I forgot how sensitive my nipples are as I twist them between my thumb and finger.

It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve been touched. I know my heart belonged to Logan Knight, but just the slightest touch is burning my insides, and now I know for sure my body remembers.

My other hand slides down my stomach and reaches into my panties. They’re already wet from my arousal, and just the thought of Logan touching me there sends a harsh shiver down my body.

I slide my finger up and down my slit, feeling how slippery it is and rubbing against my clit. Massaging my breasts and clit, I work my body until I feel an orgasm build. Thoughts of Logan invade my mind and the more I think of him, the faster I rub.

Wandering thoughts of how it’d feel to be with him surface, and without warning, an intense and hard orgasm releases through me. I bite down on my lip to prevent from screaming and alarming the dogs, but I nearly rip my hair out as I ride it out.

Once the wave passes, I lie on the bed, and all that can be heard is my heavy breathing. It’s a reminder I’m alone, but Courtney had one thing right.

I feel much more relaxed now and finally fall asleep.