Chapter 44: Chapter Forty-Four

RAE

The next weeks pass by in a haze. I work. Logan works. He’s numb most days, angry others, but he tries to hide that part from me. It’s hard to miss the fist-shaped holes in the walls though.

Steven pretty much moved into my and Zoe’s apartment, and I pretty much moved into Logan’s. I have a drawer here now. And my own soap.

Things are normal, but they aren’t, you know?

Jade Agency gives its consultants the entire week of Christmas off, which makes sense. Companies don’t want consultants running around when they’re trying to wrap things up for the holidays.

I like to think there’s some corporate generosity on JA’s part in there as well.

“You should invite Logan to our party this year,” Mom suggests for the hundredth time.

I finally caved and told her that I’m seeing someone. I waited until after the wake and funeral because my parents would have shown up, and I didn’t want to rub my loving family in Logan’s face.

Also, my parents are overprotective as hell. They’re not going to love that Logan is five years older than me.

I know procrastinating isn’t making him any younger (quite the opposite, actually), but I’d really prefer not to subject my boyfriend to Olson interrogations at this time. Or any time.

“Maybe. I’m not sure what he’s doing,” I mumble, trying to keep my voice quiet so Logan can’t hear me while he’s in the shower.

I hate talking about him with just a wall between us, especially considering he’d be pissed if he knew I’m avoiding the whole boyfriend-family introduction thing.

“Ask him, Rachel. What’s the worst that happens, he says no?”

“No, I…” I sigh. Mom doesn’t get it. “I don’t want to pressure him.”

“Inviting someone isn’t pressuring them,” she argues.

I very much disagree with that statement.

I always feel heaps of pressure when I’m invited somewhere, but I’m not exactly the best person to judge what’s too much pressure. Everything is high pressure for me.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Are you at his house? I’ll invite him now.”

“No, I’ll talk to him and—”

“Baby, what do you want to do for dinner?”

My heart melts, and then it freezes over. ~No. Tell me Mom did not just hear my boyfriend call me ~baby~ . Please no. Please~ —

“You know I don’t like that pet name, Rachel. You’re not an infant. Put him on.”

I grimace. “Absolutely not.”

“I’d like to invite him to Olson-Connelly Christmas. Is he free right now? What’s he up to?”

“Mom,” I groan.

“Rachel Jean. How long have the two of you been dating now? Your father and Miles are dying to—”

“This is why I haven’t…” I trail off, seeing Logan raise his brows at me.

He knows. Damn him and his perceptive, perfect ways.

He reaches out his arm for the phone. I kiss goodbye to my relationship, tell Mom he’ll be on in a second, and give him the goddamn (or, as Mom would put it, gosh darn) phone.

“Hi, Mrs. Olson. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Logan’s using his important-client voice, the one that never fails to woo.

He smiles, and I bite back the shocked expression trying to make its way onto my face. He hasn’t smiled much lately, which is, you know, understandable.

Apparently, Mom finally came up for air, because Logan’s speaking again. “I do, absolutely… Thank you. That’s very—” He stops abruptly. Mom definitely just interrupted.

She tends to do that. “~Mhm~. I’d love to. My mother won’t be able to make it, I’m afraid, but I’d love to come and meet Rae’s family… Yes. Great talking to you too. Here’s Rae.”

He’s smirking when he hands back my phone.

“It sounds like you won him over,” I grumble to Mom.

“I’m going to let everyone know in advance. Your aunts will be ~so~ thrilled. They’re always asking when—”

“Mom! No. None of those questions. He’s very nice. I’d like to keep him a little longer.”

Both Logan and Mom crack up. I’m doomed.

“I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Mom sighs but lets me hang up after multiple rounds of the bye-love-you routine.

Logan wraps his arms around me when I end the call. He’s still in his towel, all wet from the shower. I shiver when a drop of water slips from his hair onto my shoulder.

“So,” he murmurs, “what am I in for at the annual Olson family Christmas party?”

Concentrating is very difficult when he’s this close. I’m going to buy him thicker towels for Christmas. “A lot of…” My breathing hitches as his hands move up my shirt and his fingertips trace circles along my back.

“A lot of questions and food and…” His lips are on my neck now. Nope. My brain is no longer functioning.

“And what else? Don’t leave me hanging.”

I’ll admit it. “I forget.”

“Do you want some space while you remember?” He actually has the audacity to take a step back.

I pout. “Alright. You signed up for it,” I sigh. “No running away from me after my family interrogates you.”

I shake my finger, trying to keep a teasing expression on my face, but the thought of bringing Logan to my family Christmas party fills me with anxiety, as much as I don’t want him to know that.

Every single one of my male relatives is going to ask about his intentions.

Every female relative is going to grill him on how many kids he wants and if he’s domesticated me yet (in nicer words, but that will be the essence, I promise).

And every relative, male and female, is going to have a million questions about his family, and I highly doubt Logan is going to want to answer a single one.

“I don’t have to come if it makes you uncomfortable, Rae,” Logan says softly. He’s way too talented at reading my face.

I thought I was doing a decent job disguising my anxiety with the whole teasing-waggling-finger deal. I need to up my acting game if I want to fool Logan.

“No, that’s not it.” I mean, it is a little. I’m always uncomfortable. I’d probably be less so if I went on my own, not that my discomfort has anything to do with him.

He’s the type of boyfriend to showcase to the world. Well, he would be, if I ever showcased anything except awkwardness and clumsiness.

“They’re… I don’t… I don’t want your opinion of me to change,” I blurt out.

“Did your opinion of me change after you spent time with my family?” he challenges.

“No, but…” I just have to come out with it.

“They’re going to ask you a million questions, and they’re all going to be really forward, and I don’t want—”

I run my fingers through my hair, apparently starting to pick up Logan’s nervous tics “—I don’t want them to scare you off.”

“Impossible. I love you, Rae. Lie down. Let me show you how much.”