Dane:
Okay, text me later.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?” Logan says, his Mont Blanc pen scratching furiously across his yellow legal pad. His dark eyebrows knit together as he glances up at me. I shut the door with a soft click.
“Kendall texted me.”
He sets his pen down with deliberate slowness, clasping his hands behind his head, as he leans back in his chair. He stares at me, his hazel eyes unblinking beneath those thick brows. The silence stretches.
“What?” I ask.
“You know I love you, bro, right?”
“Y-yes,” I manage, shifting my weight before sitting down.
“I need you to listen to me without interruption. Can you do that?” His voice has that lawyer tone—measured and precise.
“These past couple of years have been tough on you. You've thrown yourself into doing everything you can for the firm andleft your personal life hanging by a thread.” He pauses and leans back, the pen tapping rhythmically against the table.
My stomach tightens. Where is he going with this?
“It's been interesting to watch you over the last few weeks. Dare I utter the words…” His lips curl into a knowing smile, revealing teeth that are perfectly whitened. “You look happy, very happy. Your smile gives it away. And you aren't as snappy with people at the office—or with me. It's a refreshing look on you, getting back on the horse.”
“What are you, an old man? Getting back on the horse?” I run my fingers along the crisp edge of my suit jacket.
“That's what you're taking away from that?” He shakes his head and puts his hands in the air. Leaning further back in the chair, he says, “Anything else?”
The silence stretches between us. Logan's eyes never leave mine, steady and patient. It's the same look he's given me since we were kids—the one that waits out any opponent until they crack. The look that's won him more cases than I can count.
I drag my palm down my stubbled face and hunch forward. “Since when did my dating life become so fascinating to you?”
A hint of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. We both know this dance. I'm not about to lay all my cards on the table, even if he already knows what I'm holding.
“Cut the crap,” he says, voice softer than I expected. “I'm happy for you, man. Seriously. Nobody pulls strings with the security team or calls in favors to the judge over some casual fling. This woman matters to you.”
My chest tightens. He's right. What I have with Kendall is nothing like what I had with Maggie. With Maggie, I lived under constant scrutiny. Late nights at the office? I'd get the cold shoulder. Home by six? Where was dinner? The woman could find fault with a dishwasher if she tried hard enough.
I’m not sure why I stayed so long—comfort, maybe. I knew exactly what she brought to the table: constant nagging, judgment, irritation, and unhappiness. I grabbed whatever moments of peace I could, and when those dried up, I buried myself in work. Looking back, I own my part in how we drifted apart, but none of that gave her the right to betray me with my best friend. If she were that unhappy, she could have ended things and moved on. Instead, she chose to stay—and lie.
“She's not just special to me, Logan—she's burning through my veins like wildfire. Last night, watching her sleep against my chest while some movie played… God, I couldn't even focus on the screen. All I could think about was the weight of her body on mine, her breath against my neck. When I carried her to bed last night…”
Logan closes his eyes. “Do I want to hear this?”
“No, I literally carried her to bed so she could sleep. Her fingers curled into my shirt even in her sleep, like she couldn't let go. And I didn't want her to…But I let her sleep and went home. Then this morning, I dropped off coffee.”
Logan snorts. “My big brother, all grown up and doting on someone. Never thought I’d see the day.”
I force a grin. “Neither did I. I wish I had more time with her. When I told her I’d be tied up at the office all week, her face fell, even though she knew my schedule. It kills me to see her disappointed.”
He clears his throat. “Do you think it’ll become a problem?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “Maybe I’m the clingy one. I’m already reshuffling my calendar to carve out extra minutes—dropping off coffee just to see her smile.”
“You’ll figure it out. Theresa and I have our rhythm—she’ll call me out if I disappear for too long or flake on plans. She’s understanding when it happens occasionally, but if it becomes a pattern, she lets me know. I love her for it.”
“Thanks, man. I need someone in my corner, not someone breathing down my neck.”
Logan grins. “You’ll find your balance. So when’s our double date? Then those two can gang up on us.”
