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not sitting on my bed!
    I looked back and pushed him off. His face was stunned,
almost hurt. Good!
    “Get the hell out, Logan! You’ve won, all right!?” He
stood there, staring at me. “You proved I was just like every other girl you
meet, ready to hand herself over for you to devour. Now LEAVE. ME. ALONE!” I
yelled. My head rolled back to the side and I buried my face in the pillow, too
numb to cry and praying he’d just leave.
    I maneuvered my body to lie on my side, my injured leg
still flat on the bed and my back to him. To my relief, he never spoke again,
but I could feel him inches behind me, my body soaring to life when his warm
hand settled on the back of my neck.
    Something inside me broke. His touch was so tender, so
soothing; it devastated me that my body still reacted to it. I couldn’t think,
couldn’t breathe. My throat constricted, heart racing as sobs bubbled inside
me. I sucked in a deep breath, cringing at the agony my chest endured. Hot,
thick tears sprung to my eyes, but I fought to hold control—fought to keep them
from pouring out.
    I couldn’t allow him to see the real damage he did under
the surface, beneath my bruised and battered body: the gaping hole he left in
my heart.
    Logan’s fingers drifted down my spine and back up again,
attempting to soothe me further. But the problem was that it was him causing
the need to be soothed. His fingers slid down again over the fabric of my gown,
enraging me, reminding me of the harsh reality of what I was to him.
    Then, as his fingers landed at the small of my back, they
slid back up, soothing the pain he’d just inflicted. Again and again. Pain and
comfort. Agony, then serenity. My head was spinning.
    “Cassandra, I never meant to hurt you.”
    With a swipe of my hand across my nose, I rolled back and
held up my hand, shushing him, struggling to pull myself together just as the
urge to urinate hit hard. An idea popped in that I felt was just the thing to
get him to leave me in peace. I couldn’t hear his voice any longer; didn’t want
to hear any of his excuses.
    With focused determination, I searched the blanket for
the buzzer.
    Logan grabbed my hand. “What are you looking for?”
    I yanked it away, narrowing my eyes at him. “None of your
business.”
    Once it was in my hand, I pressed the button. Instantly,
a nurse at the desk answered. “How can I help you?”
    “Yes, I need to use the restroom.”
    “A nurse will be right in to help.”
    Of course, Logan didn’t get the memo that now was a great
time for him to give me some privacy. Instead, he cocked his head to the side
with a resolute stare and then, to my shock and horror, shoved one hand gently under
my back and the other under my knees, lifting me from the bed.
    “Put me down!” I shrieked in a panic.
    He didn’t listen, and I was too sore to get away. The
blanket began to fall but I held it firmly, not ready for him to see the giant
bandage covering my thigh, even though he might have felt it with his arms
wrapped under me. As I held tightly to his neck with one hand, something yanked
at my other hand holding the blanket, tugging at the tape-covered skin.
    “IV!” I spit out.
    He stopped immediately and grabbed the IV stand, rolling
it beside us as he carried me to the restroom and kicked open the door.
    My grip around his neck tightened as he bent down, lifted
the lid, then rested me on the toilet. I wanted to die. My face burned, and I
could only imagine the deep shade of red covering it. I maneuvered the blanket
to cover my lap fully and sat there staring at him, wide-eyed.
    Did that really just happen?
    “I’ll wait outside the door.” He said it so calmly I was
left speechless.
    As my brain began to spark back to life, fury piqued
inside me. How was I expected to pee with Logan right outside a door I realized
very quickly was left a crack open?
    Hell no!
    “Close the door!” I yelled out.
    “Just pee.”
    “Not until you close the door!”
    “What if you fall