Free Waiting For Us (Beautiful Surrender, Part Three) (A Billionaire Romance) by Ava Claire Page A

breathing on the spot.
    I was in Pleasure Point, a couples beach trip that turned solo when my ex dumped me without warning. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because I never would have met Logan Mason—and now that he was in my life, I couldn't even remember what life was like before him.
    Pain flitted across his face, and I pulled my eyes back to his fist.
    Well, one thing’s for sure. Never a dull moment.
    I reached for him. “Are you okay?”
    He arched a 'obviously not' eyebrow. Even I rolled my eyes inwardly. He'd punched a mirror and was bleeding all over the place. It was clear that he was far from okay. “Let me see.”
    He pulled his hand back defensively, and too quickly for its current state of health because he let out a rumbling, suppressed groan.
    It was my turn to arch my eyebrow. “Serves you right.” I slowly maneuvered around him, letting him nurse his hand and ego as I rummaged through the set of drawers beside his sink. I was going to just grab a wet washcloth and clean it with H20, but I saw a small jar of witch hazel pads. I screwed open the top and bit my lip when I saw it was nearly empty. I tried not to think about what he used them for regularly. Lovers who bore the marks from intense play sessions? Or was this far from the first time he drove his fist into something out of anger?
    I put the questions aside, glaring at him until he surrendered his injured hand. His muscles were tense and unyielding as I reached for the battered knuckles. He relaxed when the sting was something tolerable, instead of the unbearable pain he was expecting. Something inside me unwound too. If this was a regular occurrence, he'd know that it was alcohol that brought the strongest man to his knees, not a little dab of witch hazel.
    I inspected the wound, but it appeared that most of the glass was on the counter and sink. “Doesn't look like you'll need stitches.”
    A smile pricked his lips. “Are you a doctor?”
    I couldn't find mine. “Are you a boxer?”
    His smile disappeared and he sighed, the slightest of tints invading his cheeks. “About all of this—” He stopped, pulling his hand free. Close to giving me an explanation, but deciding better of it. “I'm sorry I woke you up.”
    If he expected me to just let it go, he was sorely mistaken. I hurled daggers up at him, not caring that he had a couple of feet on me and was giving me a look that said 'drop it'. “What's going on, Logan?”
    He turned his back to me, attempting to close the subject. “I'll grab something for the glass. Are you hungry—”
    “Nu uh.”
    He glanced back at me, surprise clouding his bright green gaze. “What?”
    “You're not gonna sweep this subject away like you're planning to sweep up the glass and pretend it didn't happen.”
    He left the bathroom with a heavy sigh. “It's nothing, Melissa.”
    I peered to my left, my reflection split into a million pieces. Fractured. But there was one thing that was clear. Something that forced me to follow him and demand the truth. “I'm not going to do this again.”
    He stopped, two steps away from leaving the bedroom.
    “There were so many things that I should have said to Jason. That he should have said to me. We didn't talk,” I said, willing my voice not to break. It didn't, even though just saying my ex's name was enough to bring a barrage of pain and loss crashing into me. Threatening to pull me under. Even though it hurt, I thrust my head above water, air screaming in my lungs. “I don't want to run from the difficult stuff because it's easy. I don't want secrets.” I stood tall before him, knowing that I was about to make an ultimatum of sorts. It had to be said, had to be done before I fell for Logan any harder. “If you want to be with me, then you have to let me in. I let you in—”
    “You fought me tooth and nail,” he added, turning back to me slowly.
    “True,” I confirmed, giving him an inch. “But I let you in. I admitted something that