“Just sore. Twenty-seven hours on a bus will do that to you.” When he doesn’t say anything, I glance over at him. His shoulders are tense, and his brows are tight. “Why are you tickedoff?”
He runs a hand through his messy blond hair, an exasperated sound coming from his mouth. “Because you took a bus, by yourself, across the country, when you could’ve told me you were coming, and I would’ve gladly paid for your airline ticket. I saw the shady characters who came off the bus today. How many of them hit onyou?”
“No need to get your panties in a twist, Sherlock. Did you happen to see the granny who sat next to me for most of the ride? I’ll have you know she threatened the guy who made a pass at me, and I didn’t have any problems afterthat.”
That was the wrong thing to say because he looks angrier. “And what if Granny Do-Gooder hadn’t been around? I’m grateful she was, but after I heard you were taking the bus, I Googled ‘bus-related crimes,’ and I read things that would light your hair on fire. Did you know a girl was beaten up at a rest stop in the bathroom? If you insist on going back to Florida, I’m buying your airline ticket, so don’t sass me aboutit.”
I open my mouth—to say what, I don’t even know—but I close it again and stare at the boy I’ve loved nearly my whole life, gratitude filling my heart. “You don’t need to worry about me, but thank you forcaring.”
He nods and grumbles, “We’ll run you a bath tonight. That’ll help your soremuscles.”
He may only love me as a friend, but that’s more than what I got from most of my family growing up. And maybe that’s part of his allure. My parents were strict and narrow-minded and never affectionate. Would it have been so hard to give me a hug every once in awhile?
In contrast, Logan’s family never ran short on affection. His mother hugged me nearly every time she saw me. Logan used to hug me all the time too until I sprouted boobs, and then he migrated into these funny side hugs. I used to think he was afraid of my tits, but I knew his reputation, so I figured it was justmybody that somehow freaked him out. Pubertyisweird, so I couldn’t blamehim.
We eat in silence, side by side, the room dark except for the side table lamp, the light from the kitchen, and theTV.
“What’s on the agenda this week?” My teeth sink into a slice of pepperoni. Heaven. “Tori said you would help me coordinate, Mr. WeddingPlanner.”
“Ha, ha. I only helped her get the flowers because I have a friend.” He gives me a good-natured shove and pulls out his phone. “Let me text Tori for theschedule.”
A minute later, his phone vibrates, and he swipes it open, and hefrowns.
“What’swrong?”
He hands it to me. “Nothing. Just a lot goingon.”
Tori sent a detailed spreadsheet with the wedding party itinerary. Wednesday the girls have a dress fitting. On Thursday, we’re having a family lunch with Tori’s parents. And on Friday, the weekend before thewedding…
My eyes dart to Logan. “We’re going to thecoast?”
“Guess so.” Hesighs.
It’s a joint bachelor-bachelorette weekend. It looks like most of the wedding party and a few friends aregoing.
“There’s a link to the condo.” Oh, wow. “This looks like fun. What a cool idea.” I’m so excited, I almost forget I can’t afford it. “But… how much is this going to cost?” I saved up for my bus ticket and dress and a few nights eating out, but this will blow my budget. Plus, I still have to buy some clothes since who knows what Silas did with my stuff. I didn’t pack a ton because I figured I had a few outfits at my grandmother’s house. Which the mother-effersold.
Logan reaches for a napkin. “I got you covered, home slice. You’re good togo.”
This. He’s always doing things like this, which makes it hard to keep those walls erected around myheart.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’ll pay you back. I promise.” Even if it means I skip lunch every day for a month, I’ll pay himback.
Sure, I used to feel like he took me for granted sometimes, but he still looked out forme.
“Jo.” He waits until I look at him. “You don’t owe me anything. This is what friends do for each other. You’ve always had my back, and I got yours. It ain’t a bigdeal.”
Friends.Right.
I can pretend all I want this is enough, but when he says that word, it feels like a neon DO NOT ENTER sign above hisheart.
I nod and force a smile on my face. “Well, thank you. I’m grateful.” I trulyam.
But if I’m going to get through the next two weeks, this is a good reminder of where I stand with him. Even if I make my big declaration about how I feel, I won’t get my hopes up because chances are slim to none that he feels the sameway.
7
Logan
