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“We’re still doing that?”
“Just shut up and drive.”
Once again, Logan complied. For some reason, he did that often around Jeni—let her boss him around. “You’re kind of a bully, you know that?”
She looked affronted. “Am not. I was friends with everyone growing up. Popular kids, nerds, athletes, anyone and everyone.”
“Didn’t you go to a tiny school?”
“It wasn’t that small.”
“How many people were in your graduating class?”
“Forty-three.”
Logan choked back a laugh. “I graduated with eight hundred.”
“Holy crap. Did you know them all?”
“Not even close. Some of them had been in the district since kindergarten, and I moved there when I was thirteen. Seventh grade wasn’t a good time to jump into a new school.”
“Ugh, I believe that. Middle school is rough on everyone.”
Most would agree with her. But for Logan, the elementary years were the worst of his life and not because of the school he went to.
“It’s a little early for dinner, but I know a great place just down the street that has vegetarian options. Tacos and beer?”
“Tacos and beer is my love language,” she replied.
He tucked that bit of information away. “Duly noted.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth like she was trying not to smile.
Fifteen minutes later, they were settled at a high-top table at Mateo’s, beers in hand and a plate of chips and salsa between them.
“Tell me more about Jeni Bishop,” Logan prompted, pushing the slice of lime into his bottle of Corona.
Jeni mimicked his movement, and both drinks fizzed as the fruit settled to the bottom. “Like what?”
“Anything. Something I don’t know.”
“This is gonna run both ways, right? I’m not going to talk about myself all evening.”
He shrugged. “Depends on what you want to know.”
Jeni arched a brow. “If I’m opening up, you have to, too.”
His gaze drifted to a television above her head. “My early childhood is off the table. Other than that, I’m an open book. Mostly.”
“You do realize now all I want to ask about is your early childhood, don’t you?”
Logan clenched his jaw in an effort to keep his expression neutral but firm. “Sorry. I’m sure you have some things you don’t want to talk about.”
“Not really. I mean, I’ve got some issues, sure. But I don’t mind talking about them.”
His eyes locked on hers as she took a swig of her beer. “Even your marriage?”
She swallowed hard. “How do you know about that?”
