His Nanny Mate (Moana and Edrick Morgan)

Chapter 368 Balcony Mates

Ella

Sleep was as elusive as ever that night. I tossed and turned, the sheets twisting around me until I felt utterly restricted. First I was too hot, then too cold, then scared of the monsters under the bed. I found myself checking the lock on the door, opening and closing my blinds, and turning this way and that until I finally began to give up hope all together.

I had never been one to sleep well in a hotel room. Ever since I was a little kid, I always preferred sleeping in my own bed. I recalled going to a handful of slumber parties, only to be calling my parents in the middle of the night, asking to come home.

And that wasn’t all that lurked in the shadows, either. In the dark, my thoughts always seemed to circle around me like black specters. Tonight in particular, those thoughts revolved around Logan: our kiss earlier, our complicated feelings, and most of all, his meeting with my parents in the morning.

I found no solace because of this, not even in the luxury of this swanky hotel room. The designer decor felt cold, foreign. I needed a break from my own racing thoughts.

With a resigned sigh, I threw off the covers and rose from the bed. Soft moonlight filled the room, casting shadows on the walls. I made my way across the room and rifled through my belongings.

There it was-my secret vice, hidden in the bottom of my travel bag. A small pack of cigarettes and a lighter, tucked away, unknown by everyone except for me.

I grabbed them, tiptoed to the balcony, and gently slid the door open. Once outside, I perched on the balcony chair and lit up. The first inhale was like a release, a dirty secret mingled with nicotine and menthol.

Just as I settled into the chair, a creaking sound startled me. The neighboring balcony door opened, and Logan emerged.

He froze for a moment, meeting my eyes, then stepped fully outside.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” His voice broke the serenity of the night, filled with an undertone of curiosity and maybe a hint of surprise.

I took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke before answering. It was too late now, I figured; he already saw the cigarette. No sense in hiding it.

“Sleep and I aren’t on the best terms tonight. How about you?”

He shrugged, leaning against the railing. “Thinking too much, I guess.”

“About tomorrow?” I dared to ask.

“Among other things,” he replied.

His eyes shifted to the cigarette between my fingers. “I didn’t expect you’d be a smoker.”

“I’m not,” I retorted, feeling caught yet defiant. “It’s… an occasional indulgence. Don’t tell me you’ve never had any.”

He shook his head but smirked. “I’m not judging. Mind if I join you, though? For research purposes, of course.”

“For science, then?” I chuckled as I handed him a cigarette, leaning over to light it for him.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes narrowing as if contemplating a complex puzzle. “You’re right; there’s a weird kind of relief in it.”

“See? Every bad decision has its merits.”

We sank into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional sounds of the city below and the muted puffs from our cigarettes. For a few minutes, the tension that had been knotting up inside me seemed to relax.

“So, you’ve met my family,” Logan suddenly blurted out. “Do you think I’ll fit in with yours?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Fitting in and getting along are too different things.”

He flicked his ashes over the railing. “Well, which do you think it would be? Or does it not matter to you?”

“Why? Does it matter to you?” I asked, meeting his gaze.

He paused, his cigarette hovering near his lips. I could sense that there was something unspoken there, something that he didn’t want to say. But he didn’t need to; I already knew what it would be.

“Listen,” I said, my voice a little softer now, “don’t worry. Just be yourself.”

Logan was silent for a few moments, each of us inhaling deeply from our cigarettes. Mine was nearly spent already, although I secretly considered lighting up another, just to avoid having to go back inside.

Finally, he spoke. “I just want to know if you think your parents will like me. That’s all.”

I hesitated for a heartbeat, almost afraid of how my answer might affect him. “Well, you know, my father might be willing to consider a business venture if he sees that you’re committed to legitimate operations.”

Logan looked at me, his eyes narrowing as if he was puzzled or disappointed. “That’s not what I meant, Ella.”

I quirked an eyebrow, trying to convey confusion. “What did you mean, then?”

He sighed, almost in an exasperated manner. “I mean, will they like me? Not as a potential business partner or asset, but as-well, you know. As a person,” he clarified, looking somewhat vulnerable for the first time.

Not wanting to stir the pot, I searched for the right words. “Why does it matter so much? I thought your main interest was business. Personal feelings shouldn’t play too significant of a role, right?”

The softness in his eyes waned. He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray on the balcony table. “I guess so,” he said, his voice tinged with a sadness that confused me.

Without another word, he turned and went inside, leaving me alone in the cool embrace of the night. The door slid shut behind him, severing the fragile connection that had sparked between us. I looked at my extinguished cigarette, then tossed it into the ashtray, my thoughts racing.

“He cares, Ella,” my wolf whispered, a subtle edge of disapproval coloring her tone. “It’s clear that he wants them to like him, not just for business reasons. You should know that by now.”

Tired, I looked back at Logan’s now-empty balcony. The moonlight seemed to accentuate its barrenness, making me feel even more alone. “You think I don’t know that” I responded back, my thoughts melding with Ema’s. “I don’t need him to get any more ideas.”

“But you’re just so…” My wolf paused, sounding exasperated. “…Rude, Ella.”

I hated to admit it, but her words struck me. I didn’t mean to be rude, per se-l was just trying to stand my ground, ground that was already trembling and cracking beneath my feet.

“Look,” I finally said with a sigh, standing. “I didn’t mean to be rude to him. But you know what my reasons are for all of this. You know why it’s not good for me to-”

“No, I don’t know,” she interrupted, sounding even more angry with me now, maybe even more angry than I had ever heard her before. “And I’m not sure if you know, either, Ella.”

I opened my mouth to retort out loud, but it was too late. My wolf’s presence disappeared just as quickly as it came, returning to her slumber. I was left with nothing but the echoes of our conversation and the sting of her words.

Was she right? Was I really just floating around aimlessly, driven by one whim after another?

Was I playing a game in which the ball was always in my court, and yet I was always spiking the ball directly into the sidelines, never having learned the rules?