D's face brightened. "Last I saw him, he was up in his parents' room, getting busy with Jackie andTara."
"You saw him goup?"
"Nah, man. I saw himin the room."D grinned. "Door waswide open.And all the bedding and pictures are gone. He's filming himself some low-budgetporn."
Logan grimaced. "Terrific."
Only the idea now gripping him - that hehadto see Peter, had to apologize - could possibly convince him to endure that bullshit. Maybe he could stand in the hall and keep his eyesclosed.
He pushed himself off the stool. "Good to see you, man," he told D'Andre. And it wasn't a lie. Ithadbeen good - or educational, anyway - to be confronted with evidence of who he used to be, just in case he was ever tempted to romanticize hispast.
D nodded. "You stay cool,Ollie."
Logan snorted. He'd never really been cool, but he'd played a hell of a goodgame.
He walked out into the hall toward thestairs...
And nearly tripped over a guy coming out of thebathroom.
"JesusChriston a popsicle stick," the man said, shoving Logan against the far wall with a forearm to Logan's chest. "I amsick and tired of being attacked in my ownhome."
The guy was shorter than Logan by a few inches. Lean, but clearly strong. His jaw was strong and perfectly clean-shaven. His hair was impeccably groomed. And he smelled likeFierceby Abercrombie and Fitch, which was pretty much the best cologne Logan had ever smelled. But it was his eyes that made Logan stop in his assessment. They were wide, and angry... andfamiliar.
"Peter?"
