Page 40 of A Reputation Dark & Deadly

"You heard me," she told him, matching his burning stare with one of her own. "Logan, it's okay to let down your guard every once in a while. I'm here for you, okay? I'm here for you. It's okay. Stop being this arrogant asshole who doesn't need anybody. Stop pushing me away. You don't have to be tough anymore."

Logan's eyes softened to a degree but he didn't fully relax. Instead, he searched her eyes for something, something she couldn't figure out. Maybe he was looking for proof. Maybe he was looking for a reason to believe her. So she decided to give him one.

Without stopping to think about what she was doing or consider the implications of her actions, she leaned over the dashboard and gently placed her lips onto his. It wasn't passionate and deep and it wasn't long and intimate. It was a simple peck on his lips that told him she cared about him. It was more than just friendly but less than lustful. It was filled with feeling and she hoped he understood that. Just as he was starting to kiss her back, she pulled away and looked at him, hoping her eyes were soft and honest.

Peyton broke from the kiss slowly, opening her eyes so she could lock with his. Before she could even relax against the seat, Logan reached out and pulled her to him, kissing her again. This time, the kiss was passionate. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, demanding entrance without forcing it on her. She gladly gave it to him, reaching up to lose her fingers in his hair. She loved the feeling of her fingers running through his silky hair and she opened her mouth wider, letting him have full access to her mouth. He couldn't hold her like he usually did during a kiss because of his hand but that didn't hinder it in any way.

When they both had to breathe, they pulled apart. Logan didn't let her go far, however. Not with his left hand on her face, cupping her cheek. He rested his forehead on hers, closed his eyes, and breathed.

"I lost it when you told me," he finally said, his voice above a whisper but just as gravelly, if not more so. He slowly opened his eyes so he could lock eyes with her, serious. He didn't look drunk anymore. Now, he looked ashen, stone-cold sober. "I fucking lost it. I wanted to rip him apart limb from limb. Before you say anything, Brandon and I barely fucking speak. He's always felt animosity towards me because my father fucked his mom and came back to mine. I like to tell him that at least his is still alive. If anything, his mom escaped from my dad. Mine sure as shit isn't."

"Then why did you take me to Old Newport?" Peyton asked through a breath, her voice soft and yet so loud in the silent car.

"Because it made you happy," he told her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not a fucking romantic but I know how to make you happy. And seeing you smile was fucking worth seeing Brandon." He clenched his jaw. "I never should have fucking left you alone with him." He curled his left hand into a fist and was going to do the same with his right when he hissed in pain.

Peyton pulled away from him, the reminder that they were at the emergency room for a reason slapping her across the face.

"Come on," she urged, this time more gently. "We really need to get your hand checked out."

He didn't argue and followed her out of the car.

The emergency room was practically empty, which was perfect for Peyton and Logan. She checked him in and after he was issued a wristband, they were escorted from the lobby and issued a room where all of Logan's vitals were taken. Peyton filled out the paperwork, which she felt was a privilege considering there was a lot of information she never would have known about him, like the fact that he had had his appendix removed when he was thirteen and he had a birthday in October.

They weren't there for more than two hours.

Logan was recognized by some of the staff and he was rushed inside. Peyton had planned to wait in the lobby but Logan didn't tell her to leave and the nurses didn't either. So she stayed. She stayed through the long wait, the vital signs, the annoying heart rate machines. They still drew blood and Peyton had to look away. Logan smiled at that, a smile Peyton caught from the corner of her eye.

"You don't like needles?" he asked once the nurse left.

Peyton shook her head. "I don't like watching them piercing the skin," she told him. "It freaks me out."

He shook his head, still smiling. "So fucking weird," he muttered but not in a bad way.

The doctor returned and examined his hand. It was determined the hand wasn't actually broken but fractured and required a cast, which pissed Logan off since he wouldn't be able to bat for several weeks. Peyton wanted to tell him that he shouldn't go around breaking jaws but she decided it would probably be best if she kept that thought to herself for now. After they placed a splint on it, they discharged him and handed him a small instructional packet Peyton had a feeling Logan wouldn't even glance at.

When they stepped out of the emergency room, the rain was back and falling hard.

"You can't get your splint wet," Peyton told him, fumbling for her keys. They had yet to move out from under the awning.

Logan grunted in reply.

When Peyton had her keys and unlocked her car doors, she started running to the car. The rain hit her full on and she laughed as she pulled open the door and sat down. Logan shot her a look like she was crazy; there was no way he was going to run. Logan, instead, strolled with an unmatched swagger she had never seen before. He didn't seem to care that he was getting wet - and God, he looked good wet.

He got in the car and Peyton couldn't help but stare at his slick hair, at his dark eyes as he looked at her, at the fact that he now noticed the look in her eyes. He clenched his jaw, swallowing. The rain was like background music, subtle but loud, and yet the sound faded into the background for both of them.

Peyton forced herself to look away and headed back the short distance to her dorm room. Thankfully, her spot was still available and she slid into it and turned off her car. Her movements were slow. This was where they said goodbye. This was where he left and she returned to her empty room, colder then than she was now.

She didn't want him to leave.

"Thanks," Logan said in a gruff voice.

Peyton nodded, buckling her seatbelt. He opened his door and stepped out into the rain. Peyton hadn't even noticed his SUV and she hoped he hadn't walked here. But she also didn't want to show too much concern for him and have it go to his head. She followed him out of the car and he walked over to her. There was a look in his eyes, a look that caused lightning to strike and her pelvis to quake and she couldn't look away from him if she tried. She barely noticed the rain, not when he was looking at her this way.

"I don't kiss people I don't care about," he told him. His voice sounded like thunder, low and rumbling, like a warning shot in the sky.

But Peyton didn't care. She ignored the warning and stared into his cloudy eyes, waiting. And then, he dipped his head and placed his open lips on hers. She met his with an open mouth, waiting for him to drown her in him, in this rain, and she would gladly welcome this death with open arms because she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers again.

His mouth represented freedom, his tongue represented possibility, and her pelvis throbbed with heat even though the rain pricked her skin like sharp icicles. She didn't care. His left hand grabbed her throat, resting in its usual place, and gave her a tiny little squeeze. She groaned through the kiss, the rain only enhancing the feeling she was starting to feel thrum through her body. She was heat, so hot water couldn't put her out, so hot she needed to get out of these hot clothes and melt into him to feel solid once again.