I shake my head once, ignoring his questions. I’m grateful he doesn’t press for more information. I love Carson, but he doesn’t know why I broke up with Hannah and stayed away from Emerley. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t volunteer any information. Riot is the only person I have trusted with any details of my life in the last decade. Nobody else is going to know before Hannah does, and I’m glad it didn’t happen last night.
“I don’t remember talking to her at all. How much damage did I do? Was she pissed?”
“Honestly, I think she was more concerned than angry.”
“I’m sure she will totally forget about the call once she watches this video.” Carson laughs as he plays it again.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After an entertaining breakfast with Claire and Ben, I came home to do laundry and clean the house. I finally showered and washed my hair. I need to get it trimmed but it’s hard to find someone to cut it and the outcome is not me looking like a clown. My curls relaxed as I got older, but I have experienced more than one terrible haircut over the years.
I have just woken up from a glorious afternoon nap on the couch with Penelope when I hear a knock on the door.
Jeff is coming home today so it won’t be Meg. Claire and Ben are going for a hike so that leaves Beck. She never knocks so I can assume she has misplaced her key. All my friends have their own keys just in case they need a place to retreat and I’m not home. Or in case of an emergency. I’m always prepared for the worst-case scenario.
I don’t bother putting on pants and go answer the door in an old, thread bare T-shirt, boy cut underwear, and knee socks. Beck won’t expect anything different on a Sunday. Who wants to wear a bra or pants when they are at home? It seems unnecessary.
Opening the door, I say, “Since when do you knock? Did you forget your key?”
I’m shocked to see Logan, his dog, and a large pizza.
“What are you doing here?” I look past him to see if anyone else is with him.
I can tell he’s freshly showered, but he looks rough. His stubble is thicker, and his chocolate brown eyes are even darker.
“I brought you an apology pizza. Can I come in?” he asks, biting the inside of his cheek.
I watch as Morgan walks right past me into the kitchen.
“I guess so. I won’t say no to pizza. Plus, your dog is already invited himself in.”
Stepping back, I allow him inside and gesture my arm towards Morgan who is now sprawled out in front of the fireplace. I turn back to see Logan looking down at my bare legs and up again. I feel myself flush at his attention. Thank god I shaved.
“Nice shirt.” He raises his eyebrows.
“Umm yeah. I have no idea where it came from.” Lies, lies, lies.
Logan had left it behind and I found it when I packed up my apartment in the city for good. It’s a great shirt and I may still wear it occasionally. No biggie.
“Funny, I remember having one just like it.” He smirks knowingly.
“That is weird.” I purse my lips and nod. “Give me a minute to put some clothes on. If you want, you can grab some plates. They are in the same place they were the last time you were here. There’s beer in the fridge.”
I look around my house glad I have tidied it. I have added a lot of personal touches over the years but in many ways, it functions the same as it did when we were kids. New furniture but the same layout. New dishes but in the same spot as my parents kept them.
“No beer for me.” He raises his hand and his face pales. “I’ll just grab some water if that’s okay.”
“Awe, are you feeling tough today? Serves you right.” Snorting in amusement at his pout, I almost feel sorry for him. “I’ll have water too. Be right back.”
Slipping into my bedroom, I close the door behind me. Leaning up against it I take a moment to collect myself. Am I okay with him being here? Yeah, I think I am. I’m very aware that this is the first time we have seen each other away from the public eye.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. Plus, he brought an apology pizza.
Stepping away, I quickly strip down. I tuck the shirt under my pillow for later, because there is no way I’m giving it back to him now. I put on a pale peach bra and a matching thong. Not that it matters, I dress for myself. Rummaging through my drawers I find my favourite leggings that make my ass look great. Also, irrelevant. He doesn’t need to see my ass. Finally, I pull on a tight white T-shirt and a cardigan. I check myself in the mirror. Passable. I totally didn’t put any thought into this, I continue to lie to myself as I walk back into the kitchen.
“About last night, Logan,” I pause when I see him standing at the picture window, looking at the view while holding my cat like a baby rubbing her tummy.
