Page 12 of Living at 40

“It’s not nothing. You were really worked up this morning, and it’s something I obviously did but don’t recall. Saying it’s nothing is a Chloe move, and I told myself I wouldn’t ever let it happen again. I need to know what I’ve missed.”

The mention of his ex-wife reminds me that Logan eventually went on to fall in love with a woman, even if they eventually fell out of love. I’m well-versed in falling into and out of love. I fall hard and fast—or at least that’s what I think of myself—and have staying power for all the wrong reasons. It happened with Rick, and Kenneth before him, and Kevin before him.

I could point out Logan’s comparing me to his ex-wife, which is unsettling, but the earnestness in his expression tells me he really wants the specifics.

“Remember when I came to visit Ben when you guys were juniors?” I take a deep breath, holding it for Logan’s reply.

“Hardly.” He laughs, and I’m familiar with that off-the-cuff sound he makes.

“Never mind. I can’t tell you this. It’s better that you don’t remember.” My foot hits a pedal, and I press forward, but Logan catches the handlebar, and I almost topple over.

“Autumn, dammit, tell me what I did.” The serious snap of his voice stills me, but it’s the concern in his eyes that softens me.

“I made a pass at you, and you turned it into a joke.”

Logan releases the handlebar and almost trips over his own bike as he scrubs a hand over his short hair. “You what? And I what?”

“I tried to kiss you, and you pushed me away.”

“I had to have been drunk.” His gaze roams my body, and the perusal is a desperate caress, one frantic to remember me. His eyes outline my form as if given a second chance to touch me, only he never touched me in the first place.

“I didn’t look like this then. I was just some fat girl who wanted your sausage.”

His head snaps upward, eyes meeting mine. “I did not say that.”

“Yes, you did,” I bark, and then I take a deep breath. “Look, like I said, it was a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t know why it’s even coming up now but—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. First, I would never call you fat.” His gaze skims up and down my body once more, and as much as I want to feel his appraising hunger against my skin, my teenage heart still aches from his harmful words.

“You did—”

“Uh.” He raises a hand to stop me. “And if you ever kissed me, I’d certainly remember.”

“Well, I remember, and you don’t, and it was just stupid.”

“Kissing me was stupid?” His eyes widen. His face horrified.

“We didn’t kiss. It was stupid that I tried, and I don’t even know why we are discussing this now.”

“Because you’re mad at me for something that happened twenty years ago, that I don’t remember because I was probably drunk and acting like a twenty-year-old asshole.”

His emphatic explanation does make sense. It’s the rationale I’d given myself for years, so I don’t know why I’m letting it get to me now. I’ve been with plenty of men since Logan’s rejection—men who wanted me—at least for a little while.

“It doesn’t matter,” I state again, but Logan reaches out for my arm while still holding his bike in his other hand.

“It matters to you, so it matters to me.” I almost cry at the tenderness in his words, but he can’t mean them. He is just like every other man in my life—say one thing but mean another.

“Well, it’s over now. I’m thoroughly embarrassed”—and hurt—“by the entire situation, and I’d like to go back to you not remembering it.”

“Autumn, honey—”

“Oh no,” I snap. “Do not give me some patronizing crap. I accept your apology, if there was one in there somewhere, and I’m sorry, too. I should have never assumed you’d want me to kiss you.” Despite his arm loosely around my neck and his playful teasing of me throughout that night, I should have remembered it was who Logan was. He was flirty. He was funny. He was sweet. It didn’t mean he wanted to be with me, and the memory always haunts me whenever I am around him.

Pulling my arm from his grasp for the second time today, I press at the bike pedal, propelling myself forward to give me some distance from him and set me on the road to Ben and Anna’s place.

Logan quickly pulls up next to me but thankfully doesn’t speak. Once we return to the house, one of the three-car garage doors is open, and I ride inside. Slipping off the bike, I hastily kick the stand to hold it upright. Logan pulls in after me, and right as I turn for the house, he catches me again by the arms, pulling me up to his chest.

“I want your kisses.” The statement snags my breath. His dark eyes flame, but I’m still wound up.