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Sailor
Iwake up to the smell of bacon, tangled sheets, and Logan’s T-shirt twisted around my torso. I should have protested more when he asked me to spend the night. Should have remembered all of my rules on why sleepovers are a bad idea.
Reluctantly, I slide out of bed and find a pair of joggers to throw on, rolling them up at the waist. I have no idea if Campbell is here or not, so I won’t go traipsing into the kitchen with my bare ass showing.
“Morning,” Logan says in greeting.
I tell myself to get my things and go or to just sit at the table and let him cook, but my body has a mind of its own. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder. I suppose it’s normal for him to go around shirtless.
“You sleep okay?” With one more kiss, I let him know that I did before offering to help. “Feel like scrambling some eggs?”
He points toward the fridge, and I oblige, grabbing the eggs and butter. Once I get a skillet going, we cook together, playfully nudging each other and stealing kisses. I remember Hannah and Holden behaving like this, always so happy. Before I can think too much about it, I convince myself it’s just post-sex bliss.
“Dad! Wait till I show you what Grams got me!” Campbell burst into the house, and I know the moment he sees me, because his entire demeanor changes.
The excitement on his face disappears and is replaced with disdain. It’s the same look he had when we were all at the pizza parlor. He knows what’s going on between Logan and me and he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.
“What is she doing here?”
“Campbell,” Logan warns.
In a fit of rage, he throws the cell phone he’s holding onto the ceramic tile floor, smashing the screen. Then, he runs down the hall and slams the door to what I assume is his bedroom.
“Please don’t go,” Logan says and kisses my forehead before going to talk to Campbell.
Whoever said teenage girls are the only ones with drama have never met a teenage boy going through shit they don’t understand. My nephews had their fair share of meltdowns after Hannah died. They lashed out, got into trouble, and hated the world for a while.
I’m guessing Campbell feels the same right now. His parents are divorced, and from what Logan has told me, I’m the first woman he’s brought around. Can’t be easy for him.
“I’m sorry about that.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to apologize to me. I’ve seen dramatic teen boys. Don’t be so hard on him.”
“I’ve told him and told him, though. Me and Jolene are not getting back together. I don’t know why he keeps holding on to this hope that we will.”
I smile over at him. “Is that wrong of him? Maybe he just wants some normalcy in his life. I mean, you get injured, have to retire from the NFL, leave the city and come here. Maybe he’s just desperate to hold on to something familiar.”
Logan frowns and then opens his mouth as if he’s going to tell me something, but before he can reply, the smoke alarm sounds. I hurry over to the stove and turn the burner off while he grabs a dishtowel and fans it over the smoke detector. The bacon he was cooking is burned to a crisp. After a moment, the smoke alarm stops, and Logan surveys the blackened bacon in the pan.
“Great, she can’t even cook,” Campbell mutters. With a roll of his eyes, he saunters back to his room and gives us another door slam.
I try to hold it in, but laughter bubbles out of me. Logan burst out laughing and pulls me into his arms, eventually silencing me with a kiss.
Despite Logan’s lips being on mine, my mind doesn’t silence so easily as my mouth. On top of navigating my own insecurities about my relationship with Logan, now I have to deal with his passive-aggressive teenage son. This is going to be fan-fucking-tastic.
