Chapter 7

• Ashley
• “Hmph,” Ashley said as she swabbed, dabbed ointment, and applied tiny butterfly Band-Aids, while Logan absentmindedly stroked her knee. “So, why don’t you consider taking a job at the Montgomery Telecom, the one my father offered?”
• “Ashley, can you please stop?” Logan pleaded.
• “It’s a valid question. He’s not offering you a handout. It’s an actual job,” she pressed.
• “He hasn’t even specified what kind of job it is. It’s just some vague position with a six-figure salary that would make me indebted to him forever. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s no different from a handout,” Logan explained.
• “Logan, that’s absurd. You have connections. Use them. Who cares what the position is? He would probably create a role specifically for you, and it sounds a lot better than breaking your neck trying to survive in this city while also paying for Ava’s tuition at Fordham. It’s outrageous,” Ashley argued.
• “It’s reality,” Logan snapped. “Real people have to work for what they want. I know that’s not your life, but it’s ours.” Ashley flinched, but he continued. “I never wanted Montgomery’s money, and neither did she.”
• “I know you didn’t want it, but you grew up with us! No one objected when my father proposed the idea before he and my mother moved away. Everyone knows you’re practically part of the family. Even Dylan,” Ashley said, trying to suppress her unease at the mention of her eldest brother’s name. After their earlier conversation, the one that had led her to attend the party in the Hamptons, the thought of him made her uneasy. “So why shouldn’t you receive the same benefits as they di—”
• “Ashley, I know you like to block it out every time I mention it, but I despise your father. I still despise him now that he and your mom are living the good life somewhere in the Caribbean. If I took his magical job, I would donate every penny of my salary to charity,” Logan declared.
• Ashley wanted to feel shocked and angry, but instead, she felt disappointed. Disappointed that he gained nothing from being forced to be around her dysfunctional family for most of his life, and that he still had to struggle because he despised the Montgomery name so much that he refused to benefit from his association with them. That was probably why he never accepted her birthday or Christmas presents.
• This time, when Ashley bit her lip, it wasn’t for dramatic effect. It was to prevent it from trembling.
• Logan’s gaze softened. “It has nothing to do with you, Ashley. You’re partly the reason why I despise him so much. The way he treated you.”
• “I deserved it. I’m an embarrassment,” she muttered.
• He smacked her thigh hard. “Don’t start.”
• “I can say what I want,” Ashley retorted.
• “You’re right. You can. But it’s bullshit. Your father treated you like a brainless bimbo or ignored you while showering Dylan and Mackenzie with attention. And that’s only half the reason I can’t stand him,” Logan said, pushing himself up on his forearms. “His failure to show up at my mother’s funeral after she spent twenty years taking care of his family was the last straw. Or did you forget?”
• “I didn’t forget.”
• How could she? Logan’s mother had been more of a mother figure to her than her own, who also considered her an embarrassment. It had only been a year, and the memory of her kind face and warm eyes still tightened Ashley’s chest. Her death had crippled me, and I’d only pulled it together enough to try to comfort Logan.
• Although my way of comforting him on the night of her funeral had led to us not speaking for months.
• A shiver ran through Ashley, causing her to retreat until she sat on the bed rather than his lap. “I understand, Logan. You don’t have to explain it further.”
• “Are you certain you understand? Because you have peculiar notions about how family works. For instance, believing that either of your siblings truly considered the nanny’s son as part of their own,” Logan said.
• Ashley looked down, her hair concealing her face. “I did.”
• “I know,” Logan replied, grasping her chin and tilting her face upward. “That’s why I’m still here even though you drive me crazy.”
• “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
• “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m just…” His fingers tightened as his brow furrowed. “I just wish I comprehended why you allow people to mistreat you constantly. Why you pretend to be someone you’re not.”
• “How do you know it’s all a façade? Maybe I enjoy it,” Ashley retorted, twisting away from him and staring at the scattered piles of clothing in the room, most of them black. “Perhaps I like being dominated and used by someone who doesn’t care about me. Maybe I don’t mind being passed around once they’re done. Maybe I still consider it all as harmless fun.”
• “Yeah, and maybe you’re just full of it,” Logan responded curtly. “I could see how much it repulsed you every time that creep laid his hands on you. Just because others buy into your Paris Hilton act doesn’t mean I ever will. I know every part of you, Ashley. And I know you couldn’t wait to get in the car with me and drive away.”
• “Paris Hilton was tolerable until she revealed her political views,” Ashley muttered. “Next time, compare me to Kim K.”
• “Please, be serious, Ashley.”
• She wrapped her arms around herself, digging her fingers into her skin.
• “Why are you putting yourself through this?” Logan inquired. When she remained silent, he scooted closer and slid his hand up to cradle the back of her head. She continued to stare at her clothes. “Help me understand, please?”
• “Why is it so important?” she asked.
• “Because I hate being angry with you. It drives me insane to see you let people mistreat you,” he explained.
• “Is that why you’re still avoiding me? One moment, I think we’ve moved past all of this, and the next, you’re ignoring my calls. I don’t know where we stand anymore.”
• Whether it was the despair in her tone or the defeated way she slumped in his embrace, Logan eventually pulled her against his chest, encircling her with his strong arms. It was nothing like the way Brett touched her or anyone else, for that matter.
• “I’m just… trying to figure some things out,” he confessed. “Tell me what’s happening with that guy at the Lego mansion.”
• “Just leave it, Logan.”
• “If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out.”
• Sighing, Ashley pressed her face against his chest and allowed him to guide her down onto the bed. There was no point in arguing with Logan when he set his mind to something. It was better to savor the warmth and protection provided by the circle of his arms and drift off to sleep. Perhaps he would forget this conversation in the morning.