Wild(104)

            Kind of like how I felt here with Mom. Tense and unhappy. I didn’t enjoy myself. I never felt relaxed or at ease in my skin. I felt like an imposter, trying to be someone else—the person who made them happy and not me.

            I only felt like myself at Dartford. After Harris and I broke up, I’d finally uncovered myself. And then I met Logan.

            I thought about the way he made me feel . . . the things we did and shared. Being with him . . . it felt like freedom. I never knew it could be like that with a guy.

            I remembered how easy it was to be with him—when I wasn’t pushing him away.

            I met Harris’s gaze. “No.”

            “Huh.” The sound escaped more like a grunt than a word, and his expression revealed every bit of his disgust with me for confessing that bit of truth to him.

            “Look, Harris, I know our mothers have this grand plan for us. But I’m not going to marry you. I’m going back to Dartford.”

            It was his turn to laugh harshly. “Really? Without Mommy and Daddy supporting you?” He snorted his skepticism.

            “Yeah. I like it there. No”—I stopped to correct myself and shook my head—“I love it there. I love my friends. I love . . .”

            Logan. I love Logan.

            Something ugly flickered in his eyes as he stared at me. “You’re kidding me, right?” He stared at me for a long moment. “There’s someone else. Was it that guy you were arrested with? The one with you in the pictures?” So he had seen the photos. He inhaled. “I forgive you, Georgia. Whatever you did, we weren’t together then. I can forgive you.”

            I laughed lightly then. “You’re really incredible.”

            He grinned, mistakenly complimented. “I know. I can be generous and admit that we both made mistakes.”

            “No, Harris, I don’t want to get back together with you. Even if there wasn’t someone else . . . but yeah. There is.”

            His nostrils flared. “You little . . .” He stopped himself short, showing some restraint. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching us. “We’re going to finish this dinner, Georgia, and then I’m going to take you home and give you some time to reconsider.”

            I stood. “We don’t really need to finish this dinner.”

            He looked up at me, his mouth gaping like a fish. “We ordered already—”

            “You can eat. I’m going home. I’ll get my sister to come and get me.” I dropped my napkin on the table then and marched across the restaurant. In the lobby, I stopped and pulled my phone out. I’d had it on vibrate, but I immediately saw there were several texts from Amber and even a missed call. Hoping everything was all right, I clicked on the voicemail first. Her breathless voice filled my ear.

            “Georgia! Georgia! Oh. My. God. I can’t believe—”

            “Georgia.”

            The deep voice hit me like a punch to my solar plexus. Breathing was impossible. I lowered the phone from my ear, my heart a painful thump in my chest. I turned, forgetting about my sister.

            “Logan?” He looked amazing. A little rough. Like he hadn’t shaved in days. His clothes were wrinkled against his tense body. But that only made him more beautiful. More dangerous looking. “What are you doing here?”

            “Did you mean what you said? In your text?” he demanded.

            I moistened my lips and took a step toward him, trying to remember what I had texted, but I couldn’t think beyond the sight of him.