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We listen as Joe belts the rest of “Only the Good Die Young.” The older man has a strong voice, and the crowd loves his rendition of the Billy Joel song.
When Joe finishes, Logan leans across the table. “I’ll grab a couple sodas. You stay and watch the show.”
He walks to the back of the room where there’s a bar and menu. I watch him go, feeling as if the eyes that lingered on me before have doubled with Logan’s absence. I am still very much a newcomer to this community.
I’m already on edge, and a tap on my left shoulder has me slapping a hand over my heart. I jerk around to the junior girl who asked me about Casanova today. I finally remembered her name—Amy. She’s with Sierra Henderson—Hank’s daughter—and they’re both grinning from ear to ear.
I swallow down my trepidation and pretend I’m braver than I feel. “Hey, girls.”
“Hi, Miss Benson!” Amy’s teeth shine with her wide-mouthed grin, and she glances to the bar where Logan is ordering for us.
I don’t bother looking—I know who they’re spying on.
“Um, what’s up?” I say, forcing my voice to play it cool.
Ken, Roy’s friend, heads up to the stage. He chuckles into the mic before diving into “Like a Virgin.”
Sierra rolls her eyes at the boy, and Amy takes Logan’s seat next to me. She scoots her chair an inch closer and raises her voice over the noise. “So, Livy,” Sierra says, calling me by my given name. I can’t say I mind. I’m much too young to be Miss Anything. “You’re on a date?”
“Ah…” The monotone sound leaving my mouth is high and noncommittal. I gape over at the bar, hoping Logan is on his way back and will rescue me any second.
Sierra taps Amy’s shoulder until her friend has scooched over, leaving space for her to sit on half of Logan’s seat. “Yeah?”
“I… am. On a date. I guess.” I say each word as if it were my last. Every minute my feelings for Logan grow stronger, but I can’t say the same for the rest of this nosy town.
Amy yips. “But Logan never dates!”
Sierra wavers, almost falling off her half of Logan’s chair. “I thought you had a boyfriend. Miss Lemonade said you had a boyfriend.”
The pair look at one another.
How did I unintentionally provide the juiciest gossip Rendezvous has seen in decades?
It doesn’t matter. What matters is clearing Logan’s good name. This town loves him. One date with me is not going to change that. “I did.” I press my lips together. “However, I no longer do.”
“I wouldn’t either if Logan were showing an ounce of interest.” Sierra raises her penciled brows at Amy.
“But he doesn’t date!” Amy protests.
“I guess he does now.” Sierra eyes me, her brows raising, reminding me of her father when he catcalled at us outside Logan’s house.
“It’s not like that,” I say, my insides crawling. “Logan isn’t the reason I broke up with him. I would have broken up with Benjamin no matter what.”
“So, is this your first date?” Sierra asks, glancing from me to Amy.
And this is where I draw the line. Not to mention, I have no idea how to answer that question. Does an intimate dinner with a side of kissing almost every night in the privacy of one’s home count as dating?
I mentally shake my head. It doesn’t matter. It’s time for Miss Benson to find what Rachel calls her teacher voice and end this. “Girls, let me save you some time. I’m not going to discuss this. Ah, any further.” Geez, I sound like my mother.
“Come on, Livy,” Amy moans. “We’ve been drooling over Logan since we were twelve years old.” Her arms fling in the direction of the bar. “And you just walked in holding his hand.”
The pair let out a quiet, high-pitched squeal.
But I refuse to offer anymore. Miss Benson has spoken. Still, how long does it take to buy a drink? It’s time for Logan to come back. They’ll stop their giddiness and questions once he returns—won’t they?
Amy shakes Sierra’s shoulder. “Do you think they’ve ever kissed—?”
“Hey, ladies.” Logan. Hallelujah.
