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11
I stretchedthe dark lines along the pad of paper, trying to feel the familiar release that came when I sketched. I’d been going at it for an hour and still I wasn’t feeling the anxiety over my impending dinner ease out of my system.
“Still doing that, huh?” A deep voice asked from above, pulling me from my thoughts. It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet, which was why I was still in my sleep shorts and tank with no bra, and why my hair looked like a rat currently lived in it.
Disappointment met me in a set of steel blue eyes.
“Not that much has changed in two years, Logan.” I huffed, getting to my knees, grabbing all the sketches, and pulling them into a pile.
Logan’s hands were there, helping me, the backs of his fingers pushing a piece into my chest, grazing my breast.
I froze, and so did he…but instead of a flush of shame or embarrassment coming over him, it was a look of lust that filled those blue eyes.
I shoved away instantly and stood, desperately in need of a robe or sweatshirt.
“What are you doing here?” I moved inside, toward the front door, knowing he was on my heels.
“I came to check on Cole…since you never texted me back.” He leaned forward on his toes while I moved toward the living room. I turned in time to see his hands disappear into his front pockets. Logan always wore loose jeans, band t-shirts, and Converse tennis shoes; he was always relaxed, comfortable in his own skin. He had two tattoos that wound around his forearms like snakes, making the veins in his forearms pop. His easy smile threw me off balance, especially when he lifted his shoulders as if he were flirting with me.
What was going on with him?
“He’s sleeping,” I explained, but Logan knew this. He knew the kids slept in until about nine in the summer.
“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could eat breakfast together…have some coffee.” His sandy brown hair was disheveled; his black t-shirt was too.
Had he slept in the car?
“Um, I don’t kn…” I started, but I was cut off by the sound of someone knocking gently on the front door.
I drew my eyebrows in as I padded toward my entryway. Logan seemed to mirror my facial expression as he asked, “Expecting company?”
I didn’t get a chance to tell him no before I was pulling the door open. Ryan stood there holding a russet paper bag and a cardboard coffee holder with two coffees and what looked like two hot cocoas.
“Morning, Bex.” That sexy grin was in place as he smiled at me, and damn, I could feel my own smile grow, matching it. I was too busy staring at Ryan to realize Logan had stepped up behind me.
“Who is it?” my ex asked, pulling the door open wider, breaking the strange electricity between Ryan and me.
I could feel Logan tensing behind me, his chest brushing my back, and fuck, why was he standing so close to me? My eyes wouldn’t leave Ryan’s face, though he was focused on the person standing behind me. He had that familiar jump in his jaw, making my heart flutter.
I couldn’t exactly introduce the two, because Logan was already well-acquainted with who Ryan Prince was…and he wasn’t a fan.
“What the fuck ishedoing here?” Logan pulled on my shoulder, trying to move me to the side; I planted my feet, not giving him any room.
“Sorry, do we know each other?” Ryan asked, his eyes narrowing and those dark brows drawing in tight. I noticed his aqua gaze flit down to the hand Logan moved from my shoulder to my waist.
“Bex, what is he doing here?” Logan asked again, but I wasn’t paying attention to him.
“Aren’t we doing dinner tonight?” I inquired, addressing the man in front of me who was sporting tousled wheat hair under a dark ball cap. He’d come early to have coffee with me, to see me. My college-aged self was doing cartwheels and backflips.
“Didn’t want to wait…and I wanted to check on Cole.”
“What do you mean check on Cole?” Logan boomed from behind me, then he stepped to the side, turning toward me. “How does he know about Cole, and why are you going to dinner? I thought he wasn’t in your life anymore. I thought…”
Logan clenched his fists, his face blotchy red, his chestnut hair falling over his brow. Logan was handsome, always had been, but any romantic feelings I’d had toward him had evaporated when he broke us beyond repair.
“Logan, this isn’t your business. Please butt out, go get some coffee, check on your kids—I’m sure your yelling woke them.” I turned, holding my hands out toward the hall.
“Logan?” Ryan asked.
