Ultimately, I am glad that Logan ended things, even if I wish he could have gone about it differently. Who knew how far I would have let things carry on if he hadn’t ripped the wool from over my eyes?
While I was still battling with the feeling of guilt that I should take longer to “mourn” our relationship, I realized what really bothered me about the whole situation. The only part that seems to raise my blood pressure is the callous way Logan went about it.
I felt so disrespected. He didn’t even have the decency to talk to me before he decided we were over. Would it have made a difference? Probably not, but isn’t that the whole point of being in a relationship with someone? Talking to them about your feelings or doubts?
He never even clued me in on his thoughts because he never loved or respected me. That surely hurts my ego and my heart. This whole time, I thought he cared about me, and he was probably thinking how sad and pathetic I was to still be hanging on to him.
Logan. Is. The. Worst.
Heaving a dramatic sigh, I go about my routine for the day. It’s Friday, and other than going to the gym and catching up on some errands, I have little else planned for the rest of the day. The stars have aligned and granted me the weekend off. I’m thankful for the reprieve, but I don’t even have any plans for the weekend. While I don’t mind not having plans, I feel like it would be a disaster to be left home alone with Ben all weekend without a buffer between us. Maybe we should try that newrestaurant again and invite some friends with us so we don’t end up alone?
Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.
Well, that was a bust.
Apparently, everybody is busy tonight except for Ben. I didn’t want to be a coward and bail on Ben when I realized that none of our mutual friends could join in on dinner plans. Translation: nobody was available to stop me from making a complete fool of myself and jumping Ben’s bones. I don’t think I have ever felt so nervous about being alone with anyone before, and it is incredibly inconvenient that it is also my roommate. Our lease doesn’t end for another year, and there is no way I am going to break the lease early unless things end badly between us.
Do I think things would end badly between us? Honestly, who knows anymore? I thought Logan and I were endgame, and look where that ended up. The bigger question is whether I’m willing to take the chance again with somebody new. Talking to people about Logan makes me realize how awful he treated me. I know that I never want to be in this position ever again.
So, that’s how we find ourselves at the new Italian restaurant, Mama Mia’s, on Main Street. We’re seated in a corner booth of the bar, which gives us the illusion of privacy. I thought things would be awkward between us, but our conversation has been flowing with ease.
When we accidentally touch each other, we pull away quickly, as if we are being zapped by electricity. It feels niceto know that he’s not as unaffected as he seems. We’re just finishing our main course before the server returns with the dessert menu. I’m stuffed, but I could probably find some room for dessert.
Ben lets me look over the menu first, and we decide to share a dessert—a molten chocolate lava cake. The server takes the menu from us. I sit back in my seat as the silence stretches between us.
Ben taps his fingers on the table as if he’s contemplating something. I watch the rhythmic motion and try not to drool at the thick veins of his hands and forearms.
“Can I ask you something?” Although his voice was low, I could still hear him above the noise of the crowd. I tilt my head and wait for him to continue. “Have you heard from Logan?”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Ummm…he’s been texting me randomly. It’s kinda weird, honestly.”
The server returns with our dessert and places it in the middle. He lays both spoons down. “Enjoy.”
The cake’s richness is overwhelming, and I fight back a moan of pleasure as the flavor explodes in my mouth. The warm, gooey cake paired with the cool, creamy ice cream sends shivers of pure delight down my spine. The delightful contrast of temperatures that tantalizes my taste buds.
We’re taking the last bites of the cake when Ben puts his spoon down on the table and leans back. I’m determined not to let any of the cake go to waste, so I scoop the last little morsel into my mouth and look up.
I can’t make out what he’s thinking, but he seems contemplative as he sits there, eyes half hidden in shadows, though I can feel the weight of his stare on me.
I try to keep eye contact, but the intensity makes me blush. I’m trying to resist the urge to wiggle in my seat before I hearhim clear his throat. I look up at him with an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to say something to break the tense silence.
“Do I make you nervous, roomie?” His voice comes out husky, and I have to strain my ears to hear him over the din of the bar crowd.
“Um… no…”
“Liar.” He smirks at me. Then he gets a serious look on his face. “Do you miss him?”
I’m taken aback by his question. In all the time we’ve spent together, Logan has rarely ever come up in conversation, yet he’s come up twice tonight. It’s almost like I forget he ever existed when I’m with Ben. Being around Ben has a way of making me lose track of both time and reality.
“No. I don’t miss him,” I answer honestly.
He must sense the truth in my words because his tense shoulders relax.
“Good,” he states. “Very good.”
“Well… what about you?”
