Page 72 of That Last Secret
And with those final words, he exits the bathroom.
I’m left alone with his words coursing through my head a mile a minute. I don’t know what to make of this thing between us anymore. I’ve told him once that I’m tired of fighting it.
Isn’thetired of this fight, too?
I allow myself another minute before leaving the bathroom to avoid looking suspicious. As soon as I enter the kitchen, Logan is nowhere to be found.
“You just missed Logan leaving,” Marc said.
Did he leave because of me?
“He said his stomach was all messed up from some bad lunch meat he ate for lunch,” Oliver adds, shaking his head. “Who the hell eats lunch on Thanksgiving knowing that we have a turkey and side dish buffet just a few hours later?”
“Yeah, very weird,” Avery adds, her eyes glued to me.
I offer her a flat smile and return to my seat at the table. I force myself to eat the rest of the food on my plate before heading home early.
Only to later lie in bed, staring at the ceiling while thoughts of Logan take over every square inch of my brain.
I’ve never neededa boxing session more than I do today. And it’s not because of the Thanksgiving dinner I ate yesterday.
It has everything to do with the woman who’s owned my thoughts over the last few months.
As usual, I enter through the doors to Park South Fitness, and Silas stands there waiting for me at the desk. He taps his fingers on the counter the way he always does like he’s been waiting for hours, when, in reality, it’s only about five minutes.
“Always late, Bennett,” Silas jokes.
“No. I’m on time. You’re the one who’s always five minutes early, O’Connor.” I laugh back. “Let me get changed quickly so I don’t keep you waiting any longer, Princess.”
He laughs, and I make my way to the locker room.
Once I change into my gym shorts and T-shirt, I stifle a yawn, and my body screams for me to leave and go back to bed. Mybody battery feels completely empty, but I need this session to release my pent-up frustration over the last twenty-four hours.
Hell, over the last few months.
“Ready?” Silas asks when I step out the door.
“No,” I answer honestly. “But let’s do it.”
We make our way to the back room, where the boxing room is. One reason I love this gym is that it’s convenient and has everything in it. Most gyms don’t have a room like this, but the owner is a huge boxing fan and put it in about a year after they opened.
“You first this time,” he says, securing the velcro on his mitts.
I put on my gloves and take my place in front of Silas, bringing my hands to my face and mustering up any energy I can find to give it my all.
I throw a few jabs and right hooks, but it feels like I’m moving in slow motion. I stand in position and take a deep breath before trying again, but my body just doesn’t want to follow through, no matter how much I try.
“Fuck,” I scream.
Silas drops his hands to his waist. “All right. You know I never pry, but what’s going on with you today? This isn’t like you. I usually struggle to keep up with you.”
My hands fall to the side, and I take a few steps back, letting my back fall against the brick wall that lines the room.
“Maybe I’m getting the flu,” I say.
“No,” Silas scoffs. “I’ve seen you sick before, and you still put in more effort than you are now.”
I don’t answer him immediately because honestly, I don’t know what to say. I barely slept last night after that little interaction with Emiline at dinner. I can’t stand the thought of her sitting at home and thinking that what happened after the wedding was simply because I found pleasure in getting a woman off.