Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“He wants me dead.” It almost sounded as if he were trying to make a joke, as if he hadn’t stolen something that many fools had fallen for.
“The real miracle is you’re not.”
I wasn’t laughing at all, my voice taking on a grim tone.
There was sorrow there. A confession. I didn’t mean for Logan to see it, but I knew he did. The way his expression shifted and changed and took on new understanding.
He brushed his fingers through my hair.
Softly.
Gently.
An apology.
It was also riddled with an aching question. “When you first came here, you told me I’d left you without a choice.”
His eyes roved over me as if he could sift out the answer.
My mind spun back to that day.
Weeping. Weeping. So much pain. My hand grasping at my father’s. “Anything. Anything, Papa. Just promise me you’ll spare him. Promise me, and I’ll do what you demand.”
“Maybe that statement was wrong, Logan…because I had a choice, but there was no other choice I could make.” The admission clotted in my throat, emotion so thick I could hardly speak.
Logan tightened his hold, confusion and dread rushing from the words. “You told me once that we have to take the chance when it’s presented to us and refuse the heartache when it’s demanded of us.”
I traced my fingertips over the thunder of his heart. Over the proof of life that beat at a constant, steady drum. The soft words tried to stick to my tongue when I let them go. “I did, Logan. I refused the heartache.”
Because living in a world where he didn’t exist had never been an option I was willing to entertain.
“Aster…”
“Please, Logan. Leave it at that. I can’t do this. Not yet.”
Logan pressed his forehead back to mine, his breaths drawn in pain. “You’re never going back there, Aster.”
“I know you want me to stay—”
“Do you want to stay? With me?” He cut me off.
“Logan.” It was torture.
“Do you?” he demanded.
Tears slipped from the edges of my eyes and into my hair. “I’ve never wanted to be anywhere but by your side.”
“Little Star.” Logan’s thumb ran the angle of my cheek.
“But I would never put you in the position—”
That time when he cut me off, he cut me off with a kiss. An earth-shattering kiss that rattled me to the core.
One that sank down deep into my bones.
Flooded cells and infiltrated marrow.
He kept himself propped on his hands and knees while he dipped down to capture my mouth, as his tongue stroked and his lips possessed.
He left a foot of space between us everywhere else.
My spirit wept in the middle of it.
Called out to his.
Begged for a way.
My hips did the same, jutting from the bed in a bid to meet with him.
He splayed his hand over my heart. Tension bound the air. A fierce intensity that refused to let me go. As if he’d called me there, and now that I’d arrived, neither of us could escape this connection that had haunted us since the day we’d met.
“Say it, Aster. Say it.”
It didn’t take a lot for the truth to scrape between my lips. “I’m yours.”
Always.
Forever.
For just a little bit of time.
And still, it wasn’t enough.
For a moment more, he kissed me, soft and slow, tender in this domination.
Then he heaved out a sigh of restraint before he slumped down onto the mattress on his side.
The man sent me a gentle smile when he pulled me against him, and he wrapped me in his arms so we were nose-to-nose, breath-to-breath.
I settled down to rest my head against the banging that rioted in his chest. My fingertips fluttered over the rest, exploring the divots and lines and dense, corded muscle. “Happy birthday, Logan.”
He pressed his mouth to my temple. “Is it wrong if it feels almost as good?”
“No.”
Because any day he was holding me? It was.
TWENTY-FOUR
LOGAN
LOS ANGELES, NINETEEN YEARS OLD
Logan checked to make sure he was alone in the office before he worked to open the carefully folded star that he’d found tucked between two books on his desk.
Seven, was all it said.
To him, it shouted a million things.
I miss you.
I need you.
You’re worth every risk.
It’s your birthday and I cannot wait to spend it with you.
Warm excitement dripped like honey into his bloodstream.
He couldn’t wait to see her. Hold her.
Aster Rose had become the minutes that counted in his day.
The reason he would fight, steal, cheat—anything to find a way to set her free.
She was his soul’s destination.
The three hours passed like oppression. Every second the building blocks of a fortress that endeavored to keep them apart.
He ran his thumb over the star he’d returned to his pocket.
Let it soothe.
When it was finally time, he all but sprinted out of the office, so eager to get to her that he could hardly think straight. He stepped out into the last vestiges of daylight and into the labyrinth at the back of the property. Glittering rays of light slanted in through the drooping branches of the trees that concealed the grounds in obscurity.