Chapter 21

MAGGIE

~FIVE YEARS AGO~

In other cases, I would have been elated to see my dad calling, but right now I’m super annoyed because Logan is balls-deep buried inside me, and I need to keep moving, but I also have to answer the phone call.

I look at the time, and it’s almost eleven thirty. Dad knows I study until late. He must be calling to check on me.

I watch the tensed lines on Logan’s forehead when I tell him it’s my father.

He pulls out of me slowly, and I instantly feel the loss. He rolls on his back to let me get the call.

I get my heartbeat under control before I answer his call.

“Hey, Dad!” I greet him.

I put it on speaker so Logan can listen too.

“Sweetie, were you already asleep?”

“No, Daddy. I was studying.”

Logan is trying to control his laughter. He buries his face in the pillow, but I can see his entire body shaking.

He knows how much I’ve been pampered since I was a miracle baby to my parents. After my mom passed away, my dad was the only one taking on both roles.

Logan and I were similar in those cases. Our dads had raised us; the only difference was, Logan’s mother had left them for another man.

“Studying what, cupcake?”

“Uh…biology,” I say. “I have some exams coming up soon.”

Logan’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Good, good,” Dad says. “Make sure you study well, but don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Rest assured, Dad. I’m studying really hard right now.”

“If you come across any problems, Logan can always help.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will.” I laugh. “But he’s been so busy, I feel so bad bugging him.”

“Honey, I’m sure he would be happy to help.”

“Okay, Dad, if you say so. I’ll get Logan’s help.” I give Logan a wink.

“Don’t skip your dinners.”

“I won’t.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too, Dad.” I hang up the call.

Logan looks amused. “You’re a very bad girl, Maggie. In fact, I think you’re a bad influence on me.”

I pout. “I’m a bad influence? Really?”

He balances his head on his hand, sprawled on the huge-ass bed like a freakin’ Greek god. I can’t get enough of him. Just looking at this enormous man makes me thirsty.

“You are. A spoiled little brat”—he traces his fingers over my lips—“who is going to ruin me someday.”

“Are you going to punish me?”

“Hmmm, that sounds tempting, but I’m going to keep the punishments for another night.”

“I was looking forward to them.”

He sighs. “To be honest, Mags, I don’t know how Richard would take it if he found out that you’re sleeping with me. I don’t want things to get complicated between us, okay?”

“I know, and I totally understand.”

“And if you have some kind of fairy-tale notion that we’ll end up getting married, then remove that thing from your head, because I’m not marriage material.”

My heart sinks because that’s exactly how much I love Logan, but to show him I’m a mature woman who can handle this, I roll my eyes.

“I know that too, don’t worry. This is just…mutual attraction.” It is more than that.

He smiles. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs.”

***

It’s a blissful week. Logan has showered me with love, care, and lots of gifts. I feel so cherished. I never wanted him to spend so much money on me, but I think he was also in the phase where he liked me taking care of him.

I always cook for him if he’s late from work. I give him shoulder and foot massages, and I don’t know when it was exactly that I began wondering how nice it would be to have him in my life like this forever.

I know I’m just eighteen, and it isn’t exactly an age where I can think of marriage, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I wanted Logan as my husband. I would give up anything for that.

Logan and I were watching a movie in his little mini-theater when I ended up in his lap and missing most of the movie because I could hardly keep my hands to myself.

There is a career orientation at my school, and since Dad is away on business, I decide to take Logan with me.

I dress up in a white off-shoulder blouse with jeans. I apply some makeup, which is mostly just mascara, blush, and lip-gloss, and I am good to go.

Logan’s wearing a casual white shirt over jeans. I help him style his hair, and he looks like he’s walked off a catwalk.

He looks in the full-length mirror and then turns to me. “Do I look good?”

I go up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “You look fantastic.”

His hands land on my waist. “I know I don’t look as good as you.”

“Right, because you look better,” I say, pulling him in for a kiss.

When I come up for air, I have to reapply the lipstick.

***

Everyone stares at us in school when I walk into the hallway with Logan. I try not to be bothered by the judging looks that most of them are passing me.

My relationship with Logan is nobody’s business, but I think it makes him uncomfortable.

He talks to my teachers with ease, and I get to discuss my career options with them. I decide I want to do something on the creative side.

We go back and forth discussing my options, and I’m just happy that Logan is going to support me with whatever I choose.

I can’t help but wonder if he could finally give in and marry me in the next two years once I’m twenty. I’m trying not to hold out hope, but with each passing minute that I’m spending with Logan, I can’t wish for anything else.

The shoelaces of my sneakers come undone. I sigh as I hand my stuff to Logan to tie them when Logan goes down on his knees instead. “I got it.”

He ties my shoelaces while people from my class give me looks.

When he gets up and gives me a huge smile, everything is better again. “People are staring at us,” he says.

“I don’t care,” I say, pushing my hair over my shoulder.

He loves me as much as I love him. There’s no denying it. I don’t know if it’s because of the way his mother left him that he’s so wary of marriage, but I’m going to prove to him that not all women are the same.

“I can’t wait to be twenty-one,” I say.

He chuckles, “What changes when you’re twenty-one?”

I grab his hand and interlock my fingers with his. There’s no one around to see it. “Then I can truly be with you without hiding in public.”

“When you’re twenty-one, I’ll be almost forty.”

“Thirty-nine,” I correct him.

He ignores my correction and removes his hand from mine. “People are still going to talk, Mags.”

“For the millionth time, I don’t care.”

“But I do. I don’t care what they say about me, but no one talks shit about my girl.”

My heart fills with a dozen butterflies when he calls me his girl.

I follow him to the parking lot when I see a girl who takes Spanish class with me. Her name is Layla. I recall seeing her at the party the other night as well.

She’s surrounded by some of the football players. Some of them are leaning against a Porsche, and she’s standing between a guy who’s vaping, even though it is strictly forbidden on school grounds.

We’re two cars down from hers, but I can hear her clearly when she says, “Can you believe it?”

Some girl laughs, “Who would have thought that goody-two-shoes Maggie Shirley has a sugar daddy?”

“I have seen that man on the cover of a freakin’ magazine. Why the hell is he with someone like her? I’m sure he’s got dozens of other options,” Layla comments.

“Because she’s young, dumbass. Older men have a thing for younger girls.”

“He’s not that old. He’s like in his mid-thirties,” the guy says between puffs.

“Right, and she’s eighteen. They have what, like, a huge age gap.”

“Bet he’s a perv who loves big tits, or maybe she enjoys taking the D.”

Someone else laughs.

“I don’t see any other reason why he would be with a brat like her.”

“I know, right?”

Logan is completely silent beside me, and I hate the look on his face. He looks distraught. His hands are balled into fists, but he’s holding back because he knows he can’t argue with them without losing his cool.

His worst nightmares are coming true, and people are talking about us exactly the way he imagined they would.

I’m fuming with unbridled fury. My legs have a mind of their own, and before I can stop myself, I start walking toward them.