My face screwed up. “I don’t see how that’s obvious.”
“Um, he went to the grocery store with you guys to buy baby food.”
“Actual food, not baby food.”
“Whatever. And then he shows up at this thing? Sets up a meeting?”
I still wasn’t catching what she was throwing.
Tash pulled herself up to sit. “He’s lonely.”
I scoffed. “Logan? He’s playing on the Blizzard. He has a whole team and a thousand girls throwing themselves at him.”
“Yeah. So why is he at a Co-op with two of his ex’s best friends? Why is he at a gallery with you instead of sleeping off a hangover?”
Both excellent questions.I don’t sleep around.
I swallowed hard. “There’s one slight problem.”
“And that is?”
“I was . . . a bit self-righteous. At the store and the warehouse.”
Tash smirked. “Can I please be a fly on the wall when you make this phone call?”
_____
Neither of us had classes because of the government holiday, so we rewatched the last half of the movie since it didn’t have to be returned to Blockbuster until tomorrow. Then we walked onto campus to get lunch from the cafeteria and returned to our couch potato status by about three o’clock in the afternoon.
After talking and laughing, we made tacos with the mystery meat Tash had in the fridge, and I finally felt prepared to facethe music. I decided to phone him from her apartment because, frankly, I needed the moral support. If anything good was going to come from this, I figured it might as well be Tash’s happiness.
Two rings. Four. Then a party swallowed the line.
“Hello?”
Bass thumped. Bottles clinked. I couldn’t even tell if it was him until a female voice cooed, “Logan, leave it. Come back to the couch.”
My stomach knotted.
“Hang on—yeah? Hello?” Logan sounded more than a little breathless.
I tried to hang up, but Tash caught my arm. “Um, yeah, it’s me. Crystal.” She said for me, then pressed the receiver back to my ear.
“Oh! Hey!” Something scraped against the speaker. “One sec—” Muffled shuffle. “Can you hear me? Sorry, it’s loud. I had the guys over tonight, and it—Pace, shut up for a sec—hang on?—”
This sounded like old Logan. Life of the party, Logan. This was the Logan I’d learned to resent the most. Because whenever he was taking shots or goofing off with the boys, Shar had been sitting off to the side. I’d never liked that dynamic, even when things were good between them.
“It’s fine. You’re busy. I can?—”
“No, wait, it’s good.” The noise died away with the slam of a door. “There. What’s up?”
My mind went blank now that I had his attention. “Uh, no, it’s nothing. I think—I don’t know, maybe it’s better if I phone tom?—”
“Is this about the contract?”
I froze. “You know about that?”
“Well, yeah. You booked it out of there, but Norman told us about how he offered you a job.”
