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“It’s not in there,” I said, drawing the key from the lining of my pants and extending it to him. “You don’t even know where I live. You might be changing your plan when I tell you.”
He took the key from my palm and unlocked the car door before turning to face me. “I’m assuming you live in San Diego.”
“Oh, well, okay, then.” I paused as I rounded the hood to the passenger’s side. “How did you know that?”
“Lucky guess… and you have a U.C. San Diego parking permit on your window.” He threw my water bottle into the back seat and closed the driver’s side door.
“Right. Okay, then. Let’s get some food. I’m starving.” I eased into the seat and shut the door before laying my head onto the headrest.
Logan started the car and headed west for town. “Are you faculty or a student?”
“Doctoral student. Last year, with any luck,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.
“Where am I going? I mean, I know the general direction, but an address would be good.” He pulled out his phone.
I quickly typed in my address, then placed it on the console and closed my eyes again.
He flicked the heater on. Every few minutes I would flutter my lashes open to ensure we were still going the right way, but the headlights from the oncoming cars made my head throb. Every loud sound and bright light sent small shockwaves behind my skull.
Eventually, I closed my eyes and listened to the cars passing. Logan turned the music off. Either he was perceptive, or he’d had a head injury before.
My body relaxed, and the smell of outside with a hint of cinnamon filled the car. It must be Logan, because my car had never smelled like warm cider before.
I woke up to the wheels bumping over a curb, jarring my shoulder slightly against the doorframe. Squinting against the streetlight, I realized Logan had pulled into the driveway behind my apartment. Something was warm next to my feet. I darted my eyes to the floor mats.
Four large brown bags were piled next to my legs.
I inhaled deeply and smiled. The scent of fried food filled the car. My stomach made an angry rumble while I yawned. Logan had stopped for food, and I hadn’t even fluttered an eyelash. Jesus, I really was the easiest kidnapping victim. I practically begged to be taken to an abandoned warehouse and chopped to pieces.
“Did you eat already?” I croaked, fumbling for the door handle.
“No, but I got one of everything on the menu. I figured I’m not a picky eater, and I’d let you choose first.” He winked and shut off the car.
“Okay.” I scooped the bags off the floorboard. “Come in and eat.” The words were out of my mouth before they even entered my mind.
What the hell are you doing?
No one went into the apartment! No one had even graced the threshold in three years. I had purposely designed it that way. Less people, less loss, less pain. Since I usually went to visit Dad, there was no reason to get a bigger place.
Apparently, now I just invite very large, strange men inside because my self-preservation instinct doesn’t exist. I will be nice. I will be civil. I will attempt conversation, but by no means will we become friends.
I shut the car door with my hip and set the bags on the porch railing to unlock the front door. I flipped on the main lights in the kitchen and living room.
I swallowed, glancing around the small space. Logan seemed too tall to fit in the bungalow, and too warm. His body heat might strangle the cool air seeping from the vents.
The front door shut. I turned around to see Logan barefoot, holding the food. “Where do you want to eat?” he asked, looking around the room.
“We can eat on the bar.” I gestured to two barstools. I stumbled to the refrigerator. “What do you want to drink? Water, orange juice, or Gatorade?”
He grinned, laying out the various burgers and sandwiches on the bar. “Water is good. Do you think you can eat?”
“Yeah, I think I could eat everything,” I said without hesitation.
“I mean, you aren’t nauseous from the headache?” He circled his finger in a halo over his head.
“Um, it’s just a dull ache now. I don’t think it’s a concussion, or I’d probably have been unconscious or puking.”
I reached for a large box of fries before shoving them into my mouth four at a time.
