Chapter 49

CHAPTER 49

LOGAN

I could not believe I was doing this, but I looked into her eyes and nodded. "That's what I want, Mira. I want to make this official. Exclusive. I want you to be mine. No more gray area."

Her lips parted and she gaped at me like I'd just told her I wanted to drown a rhinoceros. My chest suddenly felt a little tighter. This was a risk for her and I knew it. It also had to have come as a massive surprise. Slate had warned her against me repeatedly, claiming that I wasn't the type to get into relationships and that I would never get serious.

Now I was asking her for exactly that. If she'd put any stock at all into anything he'd said, she wouldn't have been expecting it to happen. Ever.

The truth was that he hadn't been wrong. I wasn't the type to ask someone to be my girlfriend. I'd never done it before, and although this was basically the same conversation, I hadn't asked that particular question and I wasn't about to. We weren't fifteen years old.

As I stared back at her though, my heart hammered like I was a teenager who'd just popped that big question for the first time. My throat closed more with every second it took her to answer. She swiped her tongue across her lips, still staring at me like she was dumbfounded.

Her speechlessness lasted a few more seconds that seemed to drag on for all of eternity until finally—fucking finally—she started smiling. "You mean you want to be in a relationship? For real? You're not kidding?"

"I'm not kidding," I said firmly, squeezing her hands a little bit in the hopes that it would help drive my point across. "I want us to give this a real try. I know Slate won't be happy about it, so if you need to think it over, I get it. Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere."

Mira's gaze dropped away from mine and my heart twisted until she peeked up at me again through those long lashes. "We'd be exclusive. That's what you said. Are you sure you'd be able to do that?"

"Yes." I hadn't even looked at another woman in months, and while I didn't know—and didn't want to know—whether she'd been with anyone else, I couldn't bear the thought. "I only want you, Mira. There's no one else and there hasn't been for a long time."

She nodded in response, her eyes hazy with contemplation before she focused on me again. "You're not going to change your mind if Slate shows up at your place again?"

"He hasn't managed to change it so far, and he's not going to." I exhaled slowly, my gaze trained on hers. "Don't get me wrong, I wish we could get him onboard with this, but it's just not going to happen. Not now, anyway. Maybe one day, he'll realize that I'm serious about you, but until then, he's going to put up as many roadblocks for us as he can. We'd have to be prepared for that."

Through all this, my heart thrummed in my chest. My palms had started sweating and my left knee kept trying to bounce. Nerves weren't something I was overly familiar with, but I was getting there now and fast.

Mira bit into her lower lip, thinking things over some more before she shrugged and picked up her fork again. "If he has a problem with it, then that's exactly what it is. His problem, not ours. "

The thudding of my heart slowed, a grin breaking out across my face. "Does that mean we're doing it?"

"That means we're doing it," she said, giving me a shy smile before she suddenly laughed and groaned at the same time. "God, I don't really believe it, yeah. Yes, we're doing this. Let's give it a try."

At those words, I rose up out of my chair and leaned across the table, sliding my hand around the nape of her neck and pulling her closer. She smiled, tilting her head back before she pressed her lips to mine.

Everything in me went nuts. My heart raced, my blood heated, and my toes nearly curled with the damn pleasure of it all. Mira was mine and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

I kissed her hard, getting lost in it for a minute until a throat cleared beside us. I yanked my face away from hers to see the waiter giving us an apologetic smile. He didn't say anything, but I knew he was trying to tell us to tone it down.

I grinned at him. "Sorry, bro. We'll stop."

His smile widened and he inclined his chin politely, then glanced at my wine glass. "Refill, sir?"

"Yes, please." I sat back down but reached for Mira's hand again and held it all the way through our delicious meal.

This was as close to seventh heaven as I'd ever been and I had to admit, it felt pretty fucking good. For the rest of our dinner, we talked about Slate—Mira was going to handle him—and about a few other logistical issues now that we were together.

After we left the restaurant, we walked to the elevator hand in hand, with Mira sticking close to my side as we rode it down to the main floor. I jerked my head at the fancy hotel bar when we climbed out of the elevator and crossed the lobby.

"They make mean cocktails in there. Do you want to go try a few?"

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. Just like they had been since she'd said yes.

Soft piano music filtered out of the bar into the lobby, and while there were a few people milling around in the dimly lit space, it was easy to get a seat. We sat down at the counter and placed our order, settling in for the wait and watching the bartender. He picked up several bottles, pouring generous amounts of liquid from each into two glasses he'd lined up.

A soft smile spread on Mira's face and she leaned into my side, her head resting on my shoulder and her eyes coming up to mine. "I remember the first time I had a mojito. I was seventeen. At this pool party being held by one of Slate's friends. I felt so grownup and sophisticated drinking it."

"Do you remember it because you felt so sophisticated, or because something else happened?" I asked as amusement spread through me. "Everyone has a story about the first time they tried cocktails, so what's yours?"

She sighed, laughter in her eyes. "Well, like I said, I felt so grownup and sophisticated that I drank too fast. I was trying to keep up with all the college kids around me and it backfired. I didn't want to be the baby, so I ended up being the drunken sister who couldn't handle her booze. I even tripped and fell in the pool."

I winced. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks, but it was my own fault." Her cheeks flushed, but then a shimmer of sadness crept into her eyes. "Slate was there for me, though. He dove straight into the pool after me without even taking off his shirt, fished me out, and took me home. He even snuck me past our parents and put me in bed before they could see the state I was in."

Oh, great. Now I'm starting to feel sad too . "He's good at that, having people's backs. I'm glad he was there for you. That story could've ended very differently if he hadn't been."

"I know." She inhaled deeply, her eyes closing for a moment. "He always looked out for me, but then I went to college myself and I had to start making my own way. It was fine at first. I made friends, like Anya, but my college experience turned out very differently than other people's."

Realization dawned on me as I did some quick, mental math. "That's right. Both your parents passed around then, didn't they?"

Tears filled her eyes and she nodded but managed a sad smile. "I forget how much you already know about my family. They did, yes. Over the span of my six years of study, we lost both of them. It's a miracle I even graduated at all."

"I'm so sorry, baby." I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I remember how hard it was on Slate. It must've been even harder on you."

She gave me a small shrug. "I'm sorry too. It really was hard. The hardest thing I've ever gone through, but I don't think it was worse for me. Slate's older. He had to shoulder more of the responsibility. Take over the company and all that."

I slid my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to my side. "The last time I spoke to Slate about it, he said it was still not easy. I wasn't there for you back then, but I'm here for you now. If you ever want to talk about them, you can talk to me."

"Thanks," she said softly. "Sometimes, it is still hard. Like on holidays or their birthdays. Nothing seems to make the grief better, but thanks. I'll take you up on that if I ever need to talk."

I didn't know what else to say, I just wrapped my other arm around her as well and we had a quiet, gentle moment. She rested her head on my shoulder again, exhaling slowly and deeply until the bartender set our cocktails down in front of us.

As she straightened up, she gave me a serious, meaningful look that I had trouble deciphering, but thankfully, I didn't have to. She just came out and said what was on her mind, which I greatly appreciated. She lifted her glass for a toast as she did.

"I've been feeling so alone for such a long time, but I don't anymore. Not since you showed up as a knight in shiny shoes."

"I think the term you're looking for is a knight in shining armor."

She smiled. "Nah, that's not it."

I laughed, raising my glass to clink it against hers. We tried a few of the cocktails and she told me more about her childhood. I knew a lot of it from Slate's point of view, but it was nice to hear about it from hers. It made me feel like I was getting to know more about who she was in the context of the things I'd already known about her family .

Once we left the bar, we went for a walk. It was a warm, almost-summer night in the city, and I held Mira's hand, feeling like the king of the world. Suck it, DiCaprio.

We were both quiet for the first few minutes, but as I thought over how much things had changed in the last twenty-four hours, I had to ask.

"Are you still angry about the article?"

Mira didn't stop strolling as she shook her head and smiled up at me. "Nah. Not anymore. If not for that, I might never have had the nerve to go after what I wanted."

"And what's that?"

This time, she did stop, looping her arms around my neck and tipping her head back to keep her eyes on mine. "You."

My heart jumped. Or maybe skipped. I wasn't sure what it was called, but damn. Staring so deep into her eyes while she said something like that made me feel things. Like, really feel them. All the way down into nooks and crannies of my being that I hadn't even known existed.

I stepped into her, my hands resting on her hips as I touched my forehead to hers. "In that case, I'll have to send the journalist a gift basket to thank them, but for what it's worth, I have faith that you would've worked up the nerve anyway. Or that I finally would've gone after you if you if hadn't."

She pushed herself up on her toes, pushing her fingers into the hair at the back of my neck, and she smiled before she kissed me. "I guess then I'm still not angry because the article helped me do it faster."

I didn't argue as I pressed my lips to hers and held her to me. The semantics didn't matter anymore. We were together, and the way I was feeling right now, I really fucking hoped it stayed that way.