Page 31 of Left In The Dark

Laughing at my cheesy‑ass joke, the barista hands me my chai latte. I thank her and turn to walk out the door when my shoulder collides with someone else’s. Blake’s dumbfounded when his blue eyes hook onto mine.

“Logan.”

“Blake. Following me again? Haven’t seen you around in three days. I was beginning to think you picked up a new hobby.” Smirking, I sip my drink.

Giving me a nervous smile, he looks around and steps to the side of me. “I’m not following you. I wasn’t before either. It’s a small town, remember?”

“Yes, but it’s not that small. Who told you about the party on Friday? I didn’t see any of your friends there? Never did I once see you talk to Jeremy during our four years of high school.”

“Jeremy?” His forehead wrinkles.

“Uh yeah . . . the guy who’s house the party was at. It was his birthday.” Two classes with the guy our senior year and he doesn’t know as much as his damn name.

“Oh, right. Jeremy. Yeah, a friend told me about the party but wasn’t able to join me after all.” He stumbles on his words.

“Yeah, of course they couldn’t.” I smile, moving out of the way when someone wants to get through.

“I better get to ordering. Supposed to meet my dad at the office this morning.” His gaze ping‑pongs between me and the growing line.

Ah yes. Don’t want to disappoint good ol’ Dad. Or anyone for that matter. Trying way too hard anytime he has the chance—with the wrong people too. All those efforts should be geared toward me alone, then he won’t have the time or energy for anyone else. “Working for him now?”

“Yeah.” His scarf blocks half his mouth as he lowers his head. “Only part time and until he can hire someone new. One of his receptionists quit last minute.”

“That’s nice of you. Hope it works out.”

“Yeah, it’s the least I can do with my parents allowing me to stay in my old room rent free.” He lifts his chin, and I stop myself from leaning over to swipe my tongue over his cheek to see if he still tastes like me there.

“Yeah, it sounds like you have everything all figured out. I’ll get out of your way and let you get your latte.”

His gaze falls to my cup as I lower it. “Is that black coffee with cream and sugar?”

I let out a short laugh. “Nah, chai. I like to change it up now and again. Also, I’m on my way to see my friend across the way and thought I’d kill some time while I wait for her to go on break.”

He casts his eyes down, taking another step forward. “You mean Lydia?” His voice is drawn tight.

Is he jealous? He can’t be. That’s me being too hopeful. “No,” I lie, testing the waters. “Someone new, and she’s probably ready to head out to lunch now. Maybe I’ll accidentally see you somewhere later.”

A nervous chuckle slips from him. “Maybe. And I’m really not following you, so if it happens then it really will be an accident.”

“If you say so. Don’t be late to your first day at the office with Daddy.”

“Please don’t call him that.” His face wrinkles.

I laugh. Could I get him to call me that without giving it another thought? “Have fun answering phone calls or whatever it is you receptionists do there.”

“Have fun on your date,” he says dryly, and I can tell he wants to say more but doesn’t. I never called it a date, but when he did there was a hint of distaste laced in his words. His phone buzzes as he approaches the barista, and he looks down at the screen. I’m too far away to read the entirety of the message but I can read the name at the top. Hayden.

Carrying on with my plans, I exit the coffee shop and stroll to the antique store across the way. Lydia circles around the counter, yanking off her name tag and waving at the other cashier. “Be back in thirty, Janet.”

“See you then, hun,” the redhead with thick faded glasses says, glancing down at a magazine. People still read those?

“What took you so long? Was it the line?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I quip, and she pauses halfway down the sidewalk after we exit the store when Blake walks out the coffee shop door. She quirks a brow. “Could he be the something like that?”

I roll my eyes. “What? He wasn’t even in there when I was.”

“Hmm.” Her feet move forward again and she links an arm in mine. Too busy juggling the cups in his hand, with his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, Blake doesn’t once glance our way. We walk two blocks over to a taqueria, and when Lydia steps away to the bathroom as I wait for our order, I pluck my phone from my coat, my fingers hovering over the screen.