He nods. He’s not happy about it, but he understands. “Julliard, huh?” he asks, smiling. His thumb trails across the back of my hand.
“Julliard,” I say with a smile. “I struggle with reading,” I admit. “But Julliard didn’t care. I even auditioned for them without him knowing. They wanted me. And offered special services for my dyslexia. But my dad found it to be a worthless endeavor. He’s of the opinion that I can’t learn. Anything.”
“Your dad is an idiot.” Logan says it deadpan.
I laugh. It’s a watery sound. He believes in me. Logan believes I could do it.
“What’s stopping you from going now?”
“My social security number,” I explain. “My father is looking for me. And I’m afraid he’ll force me back there if he knows where I am. He can track my movements if I go to the doctor or get a bank account or register for school.”
Logan shakes his head. “You’re an adult. You’re not under your father’s thumb.”
“I know.” I’m starting to realize that. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back.”
“Do you miss them? Your family?”
I miss them like crazy. “Almost every day.”
“Your dad?”
I nod.
“Your mom?”
I nod, and tears prick at my lashes when I think of her. But she didn’t help me when I begged and pleaded for her to do so. She sided with my father.
“Siblings?” he asks.
I shake my head. “My parents didn’t have more children. I’m their only one. Poor things got gypped, huh?”
“Don’t say that,” he warns sharply.
“It’s the truth. I’ve never been what they wanted.”
“What did they want?”
Someone else. “Someone who can read. Follow in their footsteps. Someone who doesn’t struggle to read street signs or financial statements. I can’t do any of those things.”
“Have they ever seen you play?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not like I played tonight.”
“Then they’re even bigger idiots than I thought. You were amazing tonight. You had the crowd eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
His eyes narrow. “It’s the truth.”
“I appreciate you so much,” I say. I know I’ve only known him for a few days, but it feels like forever. “Did I tell you enough?” I ask.
“Not by a long shot,” he says with a laugh. “I want to know everything.”
Maybe someday. “Can we take this slow?”
I can’t give him enough info that he could contact my parents. Because I’m afraid he would, thinking he was helping me.
“You’re worried that I’ll betray your confidence?” he asks. He sits back, affronted.
“Some people have good intentions. I know you do. But you don’t understand how much I have to keep my anonymity. I can’t trust anyone.” If I do, my parents will suddenly have the info they need to sweep down and snatch me back into their world.
He nods. He’s somber. I should have known how this would affect him.
“Now that you know where I came from, I understand if you want me to leave.” I turn to reach for my bag, so that I can gather my things.
“What the fuck?” he says, his arm snaking around my stomach as he picks me up and lifts me into his lap. I turn to face him, my legs over his thigh. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I heave a sigh. “I have no idea.”
He tips my face up and looks into my eyes. “I want you here. Will you stay?”
“Will you be satisfied with what I told you?”
He nods. “For now, yes.”
His eyes narrow and I know what his next question is. “Will you tell me your name?”
I shake my head. I can’t. “I’m sorry,” I say.
He nods, settling me against his shoulder. He holds me like that for a minute, and then he jostles me out of his arms. He pulls the covers back and picks me up, tucking me. He climbs in behind me and turns me to face him. “I had hoped for more. But I’ll take what I can get. Thank you for telling me what you did.”
“Thank you for listening.”
I lean forward and touch my lips to his. He’s hesitant. “What’s wrong?” I ask, leaning back.
He pulls me into him, and I feel the length of him against my hip.
“Oh,” I say. My belly clenches. My need matches his.
He brushes my hair back from my face with gentle fingers. “Yeah,” he says with a laugh. “It’s like this crazy torment, having you this close to me.”
“You know we could-” I start. But he puts a finger against my lips to stop me.
“I can wait,” he says. He reaches over and turns off the light. He rolls me into him, and the light dusting of hair that’s on his chest tickles my cheek.
“I think I might love you, Logan,” I say to the darkness.
His head lifts. I can see it in the sliver of light that’s falling from the open curtain. “Did you say something?” he asks.
I shake my head, letting my nose brush his chest so he can feel my answer.
“You sure?” he asks.
I nod, my nose brushing him up and down. He kisses the top of my head, and hitches my leg up over his hip. I wrap an arm around him and snuggle in deeply. “Go to sleep,” he says softly.
So I do.