Can't Let Go - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,50

bad. No matter what she did, though, Logan continued to show his face. And every time, the acidic taste of regret would fill her mouth.

She scolded herself, then, telling herself that she was doing the right thing. Obviously, things weren’t meant to be. There was a reason they had been apart for so long—a reason why he hadn’t come to find her, or why she hadn’t gone to find him.

But something told her she was only lying to herself.

The pilot’s voice soon interrupted her thoughts, announcing that they were making an emergency landing. They were somewhere near Kansas and apparently, there was some sort of unexpected tornado outbreak taking place.

Her thoughts immediately turned to Logan, who she knew to be on a flight somewhere in the area. She wondered if the pilot would state whether there had been any accidents—but then she rolled her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t. It would be irresponsible for a pilot to frighten his passengers with such information.

It was a rough landing. More than once, Abby found herself gripping the armrests and clenching her teeth, waiting for it to be over. When they finally touched the ground, she let out a sigh of relief, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She needed to get off the plane—she needed to find out if the other flights had made it.

They were let off the plane in an orderly manner, stewardesses explaining that there would be bedding provided for those who were unable to obtain rooms, as well as food vouchers and various other items. But Abby didn’t care. She could only think of one thing.

Her eyes darted around, looking for monitors—for anything that might tell her he was okay.

And as if materializing from a dream, her eyes landed on a familiarly shaggy haired man with a subtle growth of stubble and piercing gray eyes.

It took everything within her not to run and greet him—to jump into his arms and shower him with adoration. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said with that irresistible charm as he leaned against a pillar. Abby closed her eyes and exhaled, thanking whatever Gods there may be that he was all right.

“What are the odds that we get stuck at the same airport?” She asked and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’d say they’re pretty slim.”

“I guess we have a way with bad odds.” She sighed, thinking over the last week as she looked around.

“Don’t even bother trying to get a room—about four other planes have already landed. Everything’s all booked up.” Abby rolled her eyes, looking everywhere but at him. She wondered if it would even be necessary to get a room. It didn’t look that bad out. “And, yes, from what I’ve heard—all flights are grounded indefinitely.”

“Well, isn’t this just poetic.” She shook her head, almost wanting to laugh at the irony. After their big final farewell not more than four hours ago—here they were, practically right back where they started.

“What’s even more poetic…” He held out a key. “Is that I have a room.”

“I don’t need a room.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to give it to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing him irritably. “But I was going to offer to share.”

“Like that is going to happen.” And he laughed, shaking his head. “Honestly, Logan. I’d rather sleep just about anywhere than share a room with you.” She certainly didn’t need to put herself through that torture. She was happy that he was safe—overjoyed, even—but that was where she drew the line.

“I’m actually offended.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing her carry-on bag from the floor and beginning to walk through the airport. All around, people were laying claim to chairs and benches.

Well, they couldn’t all be taken. She refused to go to Logan. No way was she going to do that to herself again. She just couldn’t.

But nearly an hour later, she still hadn’t really found a place to call her own. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she wondered when the last time she’d eaten was. She remembered donuts with Logan this morning—

And then, all at once, she gave up.

There was a bar just down the way and Abby sighed, memories of she and Hayley washing over her. They had spent so much time sitting around in the bar back in Boston, waiting for those boys—watching them, flirting with them. Doing everything they could to win them over.

She was already crossing the corridor and making her way inside. It was crowded, but she pushed her way through until she