Read Iron for Free Online Page B

stares into my eyes.
    He’s unguarded and I can read him for the first time since that day on the highway when we briefly exchanged glances. He looks... concerned? Before I can open my mouth to say anything, his eyes go dark again and he pulls away from me, as if he’s hiding himself. I reach out to try and grab his shoulder, but miss and slip down onto my feet. I hike my pants back up and follow him out of the kitchen, but he’s faster than me. He disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door.
    “What’s going on?” I say, knocking on the door. No answer. I slam my palm on the door hard enough to make myself wince in pain. “Come on, Logan! Don’t hide from me!” I collapse against the door and fall to my knees, too weak from the afterglow to fight much harder. I lean my forehead against the thin door and whisper to myself. “I need you.”
    I lift my head as I hear movement and the door clicks. He swings it open and kneels down to meet me. He embraces me and falls to his knees as well. I stroke his hair and his hand clasps the back of my neck and he hugs me tighter.
    No words. He doesn’t explain himself or his strange reaction. Did I do something? I hesitate to ask and that hesitation ends the moment. He releases me and stands up, guiding me to my feet with his strong hands.
    “What do you want to eat tonight?”
    “Logan... I...”
    He shakes his head and that roguish smirk comes back. I can’t help but feel at ease when I see that cocky attitude. “Don’t sweat it. I’ll get us something good.”
    “You aren’t leaving are you?”
    “No. I’ll order in. Pizza sound good?”
    I watch him as he picks up his phone and starts dialing the numbers to a pizza joint. He seems totally normal now, if not a little distant. If only I could bridge that gap with him. I feel that brief glimpse I saw after we had sex was just a taste of what truly makes Logan tick.
    . . .
    After eating cheesy and greasy pizza, we’re both worn out for the night. After the lights are turned off, he once again takes his post on the floor in front of the coffee table and I spread across the couch that apparently folds out. I was wondering why he didn’t have a bed when I first saw his place.
    I don’t know why he won’t just climb into bed with me, but I don’t want to push the issue either. It's not like we haven’t had sex or anything.
    Maybe it’s for a different reason... I watch him lower himself to the floor, still fully clothed, and take his place under a thin blanket. The front door is only a couple of feet from him. Is it so he can be the first up if something happens? The door is locked, dead-bolted, and chained shut. Not that those little hotel-chain locks do a lot, but in combination with everything else? If I’m not anxious about it, why should he be?
    He leans over onto his side and whispers something to me, but I can’t hear him. I want to rouse myself and ask him to repeat it, but don’t want to break the moment. I listen to him turn back when I don’t reply. I still feel unsettled after seeing him change earlier, in a way that I wish I could help. If he would just look at me, and talk to me.
    Hah, listen to me. If he could talk to me. I can’t even summon the courage to ask a man who I’ve slept with several times to join me in my bed. If it keeps his mind at ease, then maybe I should just let that be my relaxant.
    “Cassie,” he says, his back facing me. He’s louder than when he last mumbled something.
    I pretend to wake, making a show of it and smacking my lips together. “Huh?” My heart races in anticipation. Is he going to bring up what happened earlier? How he just disappeared like that? Is he going to join me in bed?
    He stirs and is silent for a little bit. I hear him roll around a little more, then he grunts. “Nothing.”
    I lean my head back into my pillow and shake the feeling that he had something important to tell me. My breathing relaxes and I close my eyes and try to sleep, the