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But instead of looking offended, his lips twitch into something almost like a smile.
“You sound like Dante.” He shrugs. “But you’re both wrong. My breakfast isn’t boring. It’s the appropriate mix of proteins, complex carbohydrates, and healthy fats to ensure optimal energy levels throughout the day.”
I scrunch up my face. “So, what, raw egg whites and… chicken breast?”
Logan fixes me with a stern look of reproval. “Raw egg whites carry a risk of Salmonella contamination.”
“I was kidding. So what do you eat for optimal…” I circle my fork around as I search for the word, but I can’t remember whatever weird health jargon he rattled off, so I just settle on, “For optimal breakfast?”
“An egg white omelet—cooked—with four ounces of spinach and two slices of whole grain toast.”
“Yum.”
My tone is teasing, but I can’t help arching a brow in surprise.It sounded an awful lot like he just made a joke with that “cooked” thing, but probably not. If hewasjoking, his face certainly didn’t get the memo. But at least, for probably the first time since I met him, he looks almost relaxed.
I’m totally full by now, but I keep picking at the food and asking him more about his daily routine, just to hear him talk. He’s still closed off, and his face stays mostly expressionless, but I’m craving company right now, and sitting with him like this is… nice.
Peaceful.
It’s not a word that I ever would’ve imagined using for Logan, but despite the fact that he’s often terrifying and cold, there appears to be another side to him too. He seems almost boyish right now, the hard lines of his features easing a bit.
He leans closer to me as we speak, resting his hands on the island between us, and when he reaches over with one hand to scratch at a spot on his opposite wrist, the movement draws my gaze. It’s a scar that he’s scratching, I realize, thick and raised. I haven’t noticed it before, and I’m honestly surprised that I haven’t, although he usually wears long-sleeved shirts.
“What’s that from?” I ask softly, reaching out to touch it.
He goes still the minute my fingers brush his skin, and it feels like all the air has just been sucked out of the room.
I yank my hand away and jerk my eyes up to his, expecting him to look angry at the invasion of his space, like he did when I went into his room. But instead, his features twist into something panicked and pained. He shoves backward, sending the stool he was sitting on toppling to the floor, and strides out of the room.
I stare after him, my hand still hovering in the air as I blink in shock.
What the hell?
Every time I think I’ve found solid footing with these men, they remind me all over again how deep in over my head I am.
29
RILEY
The food Loganmade for me sits like a lump of lead in my stomach, weighing me down and making it impossible to move. I have no idea how the casual, relaxed atmosphere in the kitchen changed so quickly, and I’m kicking myself for ruining what had been a nice moment… although I still have no idea what happened.
When it becomes clear that Logan isn’t coming back, I make myself get up, automatically starting to tidy up the kitchen and put away the rest of the food he left out before I realize how fucking stupid that is. I don’t know where anything goes, and Logan’s already made it perfectly clear that he hates when people touch his shit.
So I leave everything out on the counter where he left it.
I don’t run into anyone else when I leave the kitchen, but I’m not sure I’m up for the whiplash that Maddoc and Logan often give me, so I decide to hole up in my room until one of them gives me a reason to leave it.
I wish like hell that the reason would turn out to be Chloe being freed, but wishes are about as likely to work out for me as breakfast with Logan did, and it doesn’t surprise me that I don’t hear any big rescue plans from the men for the rest of the day, even though we now know exactly where to find my sister.
“Stay strong, little sis,” I mutter quietly, resting my forehead on the cool glass of the window in my room as the sky starts to darken later that night. “Just a little while longer. We’ll see each other again soon.”
I miss her so fucking much. I’m scared for her, of course, and it guts me that I haven’t been able to protect her well enough. But, maybe selfishly, I alsomissher. I miss joking around and being with family and just… feeling normal.
I sigh, turning away from the window, and decide to brave the kitchen again and find something to eat. It’s been hours, all damn day, since I stuffed myself on Logan’s gourmet spread, and at least being hungry is a problem I can do something about.
I’m still feeling wary of running into any of the guys as I venture downstairs, so of course when I pass the living room one of them is there.
Dante.
