“I took care of my sister growing up. I know a few things, but I’m not a pro or anything, so if I do something wrong, tell me, okay?”
“Okay, Logan.”
“Okay, baby,” he said, sliding his knuckles down my cheek.
The name he called me confused me too, but I liked how it sounded, so I wasn’t going to correct him. It made my insides all warm and fluttery.
“Sister’s name?” I asked as he pulled me behind him while holding my hand as we walked into the bedroom.
“Lucy. She’s married and has a son. My nephew is adorable. You’ll meet them one day.” He walked to a large closet door with a shiny bronze handle and turned it. When he opened it, my jaw fell to the ground. It was the size of a small bedroom, one that I stayed in at a shelter one time. There were built-in shelves along the light blue wall, or maybe it was grey, I couldn’t tell. The way the light hit it made it seem like a mixture of both.
There were two sections of the closest. One side was filled with his clothes and shoes, while the other was more sparse but had women’s clothes hanging on the rail. They all had tags. Logan opened the drawer, and a few pairs of underwear showed, and then he opened another drawer, and I blushed when I saw bras.
“I…uh…I didn’t buy you actual bras because I didn’t know your size.” He coughed again, and his face turned red, why was that? “They are sports bras, comfortable, and that seemed more doable than getting you a bra with the wire thingy under the…thing,” he made a circle over his chest with his finger.
I laughed. I knew what he was talking about, but I hadn’t worn an ‘actual’ bra, at least not in the last year. They were too expensive.
“Anyway, I wanted you to be comfortable. Here we have some sweatpants, shirts, dresses; I didn’t get too much. I figured you’d want to shop for yourself. I don’t know your style or anything.”
I didn’t even know my style. I hadn’t been in a place where I could think about that. “Thank you, Logan.” No one had ever done anything like this for me. “All for me?”
“It’s all yours.”
I’d be careless if I didn’t show any emotion at all. “Why? Why do this?” I swirled a finger around the room. I felt a little stressed, overwhelmed with all the support Logan gave me. My words came out broken and more slurred than usual. It happened when my thoughts went through my mind quicker than I could verbalize.
He lifted a muscular arm, and his bicep flexed as he scratched the back of his head. “Something about you, Abigail. I’ll tell you when the time is right, but please know, my intentions are nothing but honest and good.”
I stepped forward, heart slamming against my chest as I lifted my hands and circled my arms around him. My cheek landed on his chest, his strong pec flexing under me and his heart drumming a beat. I hugged him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, baby,” he said. “Get dressed. We will put on a movie or something, and I’ll fix you dinner.”
“Not hungry.”
His eyes grew hard, but I didn’t take a step back, which surprised me. Usually, when people looked at me like that, I got afraid. Not with Logan. My instincts said I was safe. “Too bad. You’re going to eat. I want to take you to the doctor and make sure you’re okay. You need to gain weight. You’re beautiful how you are, but healthy, remember? We need to make sure you’re healthy. So you’re going to eat, got it?”
“Yes, Logan.”
“Good girl.” He bent down and kissed my forehead. “I’m going to turn around so you can get dressed.” And he did exactly what he said. His large frame took three steps, and his wide back came into view. Even under his shirt, I saw all the tight lines and firm muscles, probably from all the heavy labor he did if he built houses like this every day. I wanted to reach out and touch.
As badly as I wanted to feel him, I dropped my hand and untucked the towel from around my breasts. It fell to the floor, and the damp material hit my feet. I searched through the panties and grabbed a pair of black ones. They were soft and cut differently than the underwear I was used to. I slipped them on and turned my head over my shoulder to see what they looked like, and my eyes went wide.
Half my butt hung out.
Was that normal?
I shrugged, too tired to care, and yawned to solidify it. While the clothes and pajamas were nice and soft, just like the underwear, I only wanted to wear one thing. I snatched a big t-shirt from Logan’s side and slipped it on. I fell well past my panties. It was dark blue with ‘Stoneridge Construction’ stamped on the front of my left breast. It was cozy, and it smelled like him.
I inhaled the collar of the shirt by bringing it to my nose, and I knew I’d feel safe tonight. He had a masculine scent, but it wasn’t overwhelming, it was just right. “Okay, Logan,” I said, letting him know I was done.
When he spun around, his eyes went wide, and he looked me up and down. The knot in his throat bobbed. I glanced away and crossed my legs, tugging the shirt down further. Maybe I wasn’t allowed to wear his st
uff.
“I’m sorry. I should ask.” Stupid. So stupid for not asking.
“No, no, don’t ever apologize. You can wear anything of mine. It took me by surprise, I—I like you wearing my shirts. You look better in them than me.” His hand moved, and when I looked down, I saw he was touching himself, moving his length out of the way, but he couldn’t hide that thing, no matter what he did.
It was big.