I Love You, My Neighbour: Chapter 27
You must have been dreaming
Kristy
As I wake up, my eyes ache, but nowhere near as much as my head does. Gah, I so want to go back to sleep. What time is it? And who is cooking bacon? The smell quickly tickles my appetite, making me feel queasy and hungry all at the same time.
I feel sluggish and out of it as I sit up in bed, but not out of it enough to miss the fact I'm not in my bedroom. I've only seen Logan's room a couple of times before, but I know straight away that's where I am. Besides, I vaguely remember waking up for a moment last night when Logan had moved me from the couch. I'd passed out after drinking too much, and instead of carrying me home, my neighbour had decided I could stay in his bed.
He should have left me on the couch. After the hurt his words had caused me yesterday, I don't need to be reminded of everything I can't have – everything he'll never give me.
My gaze falls upon his bedside table, finding the glass of water and the Panadol Logan must have put there. I don't want to take the painkillers on an empty stomach, but I'm not sure how much I can eat. Is Logan cooking that bacon for me?
Moving very slowly, so I don't upset my head and stomach too much, I slip out of his bed – noting with some mortification that he's taken my jeans off. After finding them on a chair in his room, I put them on and start towards the kitchen.
I stand in the doorway watching him, my heart fluttering wildly as I take in the sight of him cooking for me in nothing but shorts. His hair is dishevelled, and a light scruff covers his jaw. A deep longing wells up in my gut. I long to run my fingers through his hair and feel his lips on mine. I long to feel the tenderness of his mouth on my body and the sensation of his whiskers against my skin as he moves inside me. But those days are long gone, and I must accept him only as my neighbour and friend.
"Morning." He throws me a sideways glance. "How are you feeling?"
"I've felt better. Bacon smells good, though."
"I was hoping to entice you to wakefulness up by cooking something worthy. I don't cook that much, but I know how to make a decent breakfast."
I force a weak smile as I fight back the urge to tell him he'll make some woman very happy one day. I know he doesn't want to hear it. Heaven knows I don't want to think about it.
"I'm sorry I didn't get up sooner. You probably have plans for the day, and I'm interrupting."
"I would have taken you home if I'd wanted to. But I didn't."
He tosses me a lopsided grin that makes my heart do a somersault in my chest.
Why? Why does he have to say things like that when he's been perfectly clear about us just being friends?
"Though I was sort of worried about you missing work this morning," he says, turning his attention back to the food he's cooking.
I frown as snippets of a conversation about work come back to me suddenly.
"Did we...did we talk about that? Work, I mean. Did you tell me you needed to call the café earlier this morning?" I ask.
He shakes his head but keeps his gaze focused on the pan in front of him. "You must have been dreaming."
Adrenaline shoots through me, and colour sweeps up my face as his words trigger a memory.
"You're Dream Logan."
"Dream Logan?"
"You're not the real thing."
"How do you know that?"
"If you were, I'd have to yell at you for hurting me."
"You can yell at me if you want. I deserve it."
"It isn't really his fault he doesn't love me."
"But you love him?"
"Yes. Now can we stop talking? I just want to enjoy this for a little bit longer."
"Go back to sleep, Kristy."
I gasp as I remember it all. I'm still in disbelief that I was snuggled up in Logan's bed - not my own - and that that conversation may have actually happened. My heart pounds as I acknowledge the possibility that I drunkenly professed my feelings for him.
"It's ready," he murmurs, his eyes trained on me.
Does he know how I feel? Logan said I was dreaming, but why does it feel as real as a memory? And why am I still here when he made it clear less than two days ago that my emotions were unwelcome and not returned?
Before I can make sense of the tumultuous emotions swirling within me, Logan steps away from the stove and stands before me. His hands tenderly move down my shoulders and arms, and he unwraps my crossed forearms.
“Yesterday, I made a mistake. I thought I couldn’t handle you having feelings for me, but I was wrong about that.”
All the oxygen seems to leave the room as I look up at him. “I don’t understand,” I whisper.
He steps back, takes a breath, and fidgets before stepping into my space again. “Yesterday you heard me tell the guys that you’re my friend, nothing else. But I was lying to them, Kristy. And I’ve been lying to myself. You and me, we’re more than friends. And what we’ve been doing the past couple of weeks, well, I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going. As long as that’s what you want.”
Do I want this? The answer is undeniably 'yes'. Despite the ache of rejection that's been my companion these past days, I still yearn for him, still love him. But is he aware of my feelings? Did my earlier love confession trigger this sudden turnaround? Or would it simply push him further away?
"Why the change of heart, Logan?"
He gently hooks a finger under my chin, directing my gaze to meet his. "I've realized that I was being an idiot," he confesses, his lips curling into a wry grin. "My friends set me straight. Jamie, Kyle, and Adam shook me out of my delusions yesterday."
"Oh."
"I should've figured it out sooner. We could've avoided this emotional roller-coaster. But now, if you can forgive me and still want 'us', things will change. I want you here with me, as often as you wish. And I don't care who knows about us."
"But this isn't quite a relationship, is it?"
He sighs, "If that's what you want to call it, then we'll call it that."
His response isn't a no. Logan doesn't seem to mind acknowledging a relationship with me, but he also doesn't appear entirely comfortable. Deciding not to pressure him, I shake my head, "Friends-with-benefits is working for us."
He might be coming around to the idea of us being more than just friends, but he's still tangled up in his past. I can't and won't compete with his memories of his late fiancée. So, sticking to our current arrangement seems like the best option. Logan's proposition might not satisfy me forever, but it's enough for now. I desire more of him — I need more of him. This arrangement will buy me some time, prolonging the moments we share. By the time I want more, or he wants less, I'll have hopefully moved on, and we can stay friends.
If I can get over him, of course.
"I think 'friends and lovers' has a better ring to it," Logan muses, his gaze dropping to my lips.
"Okay," I agree eagerly, anticipating his kiss.
"Because you're more than just a friend to me," he affirms. "Can you forgive me for acting like a jerk?"
"You weren't a jerk, Logan. You were just..."
"Deluded. But not anymore. I missed you, Kristy." Swiftly, he scoops me up, placing me on the kitchen countertop.
After running his fingers through my hair, he finally brings his face down to mine, sealing our words with a kiss.
"I missed you, too," I whisper between kisses, savouring the feel of his lips against mine.
I relish the contact — his body pressed against mine, his hardness igniting a desire deep within me, his hands charting territories on my body, each touch sparking currents of pleasure. I don't have a choice but to accept his proposition, not when it means missing out on the feeling of being in his arms.