Chapter 109

Evelyn

The medical wing was quiet at this hour, the kind of silence that made every scratch of my pen and every creak of the chair sound thunderous. I rubbed at my eyes, trying to blink away the blur of exhaustion, but the stack of inventory logs loomed in front of me, demanding attention. Sleep would have to wait.

I sighed, pulling another log off the top. It was how I had been spending my evening, ensuring that everything was in order. The recovery of our medical wing after the battles clearing out our stocks was taking far longer than I had anticipated. It was almost as exhausting as the war itself had been.

As I spread out the inventory log before me, I froze, feeling that pull without having to look up. It was an awareness, like I was attuned to his presence even if I didn’t want to be. My body stiffened as I dragged my eyes up.

Logan stood in the doorway.

His frame filled it, his arms crossed over his broad chest, but what caught me wasn’t the way he looked. There was something heavy in his gaze, leaden and yet magnetic. In an instant, the inventory logs were forgotten.

“What do you want?” My voice came out softer than I intended.

“I wanted to see you,” he said simply. “It’s been a difficult day.”

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“I am now.” The look in his eyes was anything but simple and easy. His attention remained heavily on me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

He stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. “Because you’re here. And he’s not.”

It took me a moment to realize who he was talking about.

“Chris?” I asked, though the name felt strange on my tongue.

Logan’s jaw flexed, but he nodded. “Yes. Him. I came from… clearing the air with Emma.” His voice lowered, thick with emotion. “I know the truth now, Evelyn. All of it. What she did. How she lied. You were innocent all along. And I should have believed you. I was so caught up in the moment that I made a snap decision without thinking it through. Of course you weren’t responsible.”

My breath caught. For a moment, the room seemed to tilt, my heart pounding so loudly I wondered if he could hear it. I was grateful I was sitting down behind my desk, because the look on his face would have made it difficult to stand.

I looked away, fussing with the papers to hide the warmth rising in my cheeks. “You should have trusted me,” I said, though my voice betrayed me. It came out softer, gentler than accusation should sound.

“I know.” His tone was raw, stripped bare. “And I’ll never forgive myself for doubting you.”

I shook my head, forcing myself to meet his eyes once more. “Don’t worry about Chris. Don’t worry about anyone else. You don’t have to concern yourself with him and me because I… I don’t have any interest in him.”

“I can’t just forget about the fact that the man you work with most days is in love with you,” Logan said.

“Well, you should, because he doesn’t matter,” I said. “I only have interest in one person.”

Logan arched a brow, his features still. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” My chest tightened. I knew it would be foolish to admit it, but I also knew that I had to be honest with myself. With both of us. “Only you.”

The air shifted in an instant. His eyes darkened, the tension between us sparking like flint and steel. My heart roared in my ears. It took all the effort I had in me to rise to my feet. He watched me stand, his lids heavy as desire overcame his features.

“Evelyn…” My name was a warning and a promise all at once.

And then he couldn’t wait or resist any longer either. He closed the distance in two strides, his hand lifting to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin and sending jolting waves of awareness through me. I melted under his touch, every ounce of resistance crumbling as his lips claimed mine.

In that instant, all of our previous problems were gone. I surrendered to it, finally. I gave in to what I had worked so hard to resist: him.

The kiss was fire, hungry and consuming. My body betrayed me, arching into him, craving more. I clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, drowning in the taste of him.

By the time he laid me across the desk, I couldn’t remember why we shouldn’t. I swiped at the inventory logs, sending them scattering to the floor, forgotten, as his hands mapped every inch of me. His lips traced fire down my throat, and I whispered his name like I was pleading.

Why had we ever decided to stop doing this again?

I let him undress me. It was not a slow unraveling this time, but a near-desperate attempt to get each other naked. I flung my dress across the room once I’d removed it before reaching for him again. Even that momentary separation had nearly been unbearable.

When we finally came together, it was with the kind of desperate surrender that left no room for doubt. For once, I let myself feel it all, every ounce of longing and pleasure.

He took me with slow, caring strokes, his touches hungry and possessive. I was nearly crying out after just a few minutes, but he teased the feeling out of me expertly, prolonging it by speeding up and slowing down to make it last.

When I did finally come apart, we both did simultaneously. We cried out as we reached our pleasure, shattering in a way we could only do with each other. I was left spent and satisfied, panting beneath him and covered in sweat.

But as I came down from the high and my breathing evened out, reality set in. What had I done?

We had been too rash, too consumed in our fleeting lust. This, overall, had been a mistake. I lay against him for a heartbeat longer, my body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, before the panic clawed its way in.

My heart wasn’t just involved anymore; it was already lost entirely to him.

And yet we still had so many problems to work through. This moment had been hasty and selfish. It was too much, too fast. I had been blinded by my own lust.

I slipped from his arms hastily, jarred back into reality as I fumbled for my clothes.

“Evelyn.” His voice was thick and hoarse. He reached for me, but I shook my head, blinking back tears. I turned from him, refusing to let him see.

“I can’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done this.”

“You don’t regret it,” he said, standing, his eyes fierce. “Don’t tell me you do.”

“No,” I admitted. “And that’s the problem.”

My chest felt so heavy. I had allowed myself a taste of how it could be, and it had been too enticing. Too good. But I could never have it, not fully. And that had been my mistake.

This wasn’t just a fleeting hookup for me, the way it likely was for him. I had allowed him to bury his grief and confusion in me, and while I had enjoyed it, I had allowed momentary pleasure and release to taint my view.

Before he could stop me, I pulled the door open and fled into the hall, my footsteps echoing as I hastily put distance between us. Embarrassment burned my skin, but beneath it, deeper and far more dangerous, was the truth I couldn’t escape.

I loved him.

And by leaving so quickly, he had to expect it, whether I wanted him to or not.