The Biker's Paid Obsession

The Jacket

Elizabeth

I hop off Logan's bike the moment he stops outside my house and hand him the helmet. Although what I really want to do is ask him how he knows where I live, I walk straight into the house instead and lean against the door when I shut it, my eyes closed.

“What are you wearing?” Mia says, standing in front of me, her eyebrows knitted together.

I was so deep in thought, I didn't even see or hear her approach.

I look down at myself and realize that I still have Logan's leather jacket on.

Shit.

How could I have forgotten to give it back?

“You're awake,” I say, trying to dodge the question. “I thought you'd be sleeping when I got back.”

“You're back earlier than usual, Mom,” she says. “I don't sleep this early.”

“Ooh, you're right,” I force a smile.

“Are you okay?” She asks, genuine concern in her eyes. “You seem a little off.”

I sigh. “I'm just a little tired. I'll take a quick bath, then you can join me in bed for a movie, yeah?”

She shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

I go straight to my bedroom and take off the jacket, examining every detail from its patch to its fine leather and the rich perfume clinging to it, clean and masculine, edged with smoke and whiskey, the kind of scent that stays long after the man is gone. A sun tattoo is embroidered on the left front.

I fold it and tuck it away in my closet, making a mental note to return it as soon as I can. The last thing I want is for him to use it as an excuse to be in my space.

After my bath, Mia joins me in bed, her head resting in my lap as I smooth her hair while we watch one of her favourite shows.

“I turn fifteen in a few days,” she says, lifting her head to look at me when the show finishes.

“I know, sweetheart,” I say, proud of how much she’s grown.

She smiles. “Dad said he's throwing me a party.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she says. “It was Emma's suggestion.”

That pierces my heart. For so long, I've kept Mia away from her stepmother, but they seem to have grown close over the past few months, closer than I appreciate.

“That's okay, right?” She asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I mean, you've been the one organizing my birthday parties since I was little. I'd like to see what a birthday party thrown by Dad would be like.”

I scrunch my face. “So you can compare and see who throws the best parties?”

“No,” she laughs. “Well… maybe.”

“Anything for you, baby. Let's leave it all to your Dad this year.”

She smiles, picking up her phone from the nightstand. “Love you, Mama bear.”

“Love you more, Pooky bear,” I say as she leaves the room, already dreading the distance I can feel coming between us as she keeps growing.

It doesn't take long before my mind drifts back to Logan and how I'll return his jacket. I fall asleep with that thought on my mind and somehow wake up with a solution. Before I can even slide out of bed, I grab my phone and call Nancy.

“It's eight in the morning,” she slurs into the phone. “What do you want?”

I roll my eyes. “I need your help.”

She groans. “Talk to me.”

“I have Logan's jacket and I need to return it, but I don't know how to get to him.”

There's a pause. “Okay… where exactly does my help come in?”

I sigh. “Could you please ask Cole where I can find him?”

She mutters a curse, then explains what I just told her to someone else before speaking again. “Cole says don't go looking for Logan. He'll come find you.”

“What if I don't want him to find me? I want to return his jacket and never see him again.”

“Sorry, babes. You just have to wait,” she says, and hangs up.

“f**k,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

I don't want to keep this jacket here with me, it'll only give Logan more reason to come to me, more reason to find me. Since I don't want that, I come up with another idea and pray it works.

I get out of bed and hop into the shower, getting ready to start my day. Mia isn't in her bedroom when I check it, she’s already left for school. I don't even bother with breakfast. Instead, I Uber to the same café Logan took me to last night. The time it takes for my driver to arrive makes me regret riding home with Logan instead of picking up my car from the club.

At the café, I sit at one of the tables and scan the room for a familiar face. As if the universe is listening, the waiter from last night comes to take my order.

“I'll have a latte,” I say, trying to find the best way to ask him about Logan.

“Is that all?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Is Logan Mercer a regular here?”

The young man pauses before slowly backing away. “I don't know who that is, ma'am.”

“I know you're lying,” I say and he stops. I stand and step closer. “I don't mean any harm, I just want to return his jacket.”

He looks down at the jacket draped over my arm, then meets my gaze. “Don't go searching for trouble, ma'am,” he says with a confidence I wouldn't have guessed he had. “I'd advise you to stay as far away from the Titan as possible. No Woman ever survives him. I'm telling you this because I think you're a good woman and you don't need to taste the destruction that comes with him. Go, and never come back here or look for him anywhere.”

“Titan?” I ask, still processing the name.

“About the jacket,” he continues, completely ignoring my question. “You don't walk around with Reaper’s insignia unless you want to attract trouble and deal with it. I don't think you have the ability to deal with that kind of trouble.”

With that, he returns to his work behind the counter, leaving me to wonder what every word he said truly meant.

One thing is certain, though, trying to find Logan means looking for trouble. And I must decide whether to keep looking or burn his jacket and pretend I never met him.