Not fear. Not irritation. Not defensive.
Just…awareness.
Like he’s been carrying this moment in his pocket all week.
He takes a step toward me, slow and steady, and my body immediately tightens like it’s bracing for impact.
The distance between us shrinks.
And my voice comes out sharp before I can soften it.
“So this was your plan?”
Logan stops a few feet away, hands loose at his sides. Open.
His eyes move over my face like he’s reading the cracks.
“Hey, baby,” he says quietly. “What’s up?”
“No.” I shake my head hard. “ Don’t ‘baby’ me like you haven’t been acting weird for a week.”
His mouth twitches slightly, not a smirk. Not teasing.
Something warmer.
Something almost…relieved.
“Okay,” he says. “Then don’t let me off easy.”
I blink, thrown off by how calm he is, by how he isn’t scrambling for an excuse.
“Why are you—” My voice catches. I clear my throat, angry at the weakness in it. “Why are you acting like I’m not standing here about to lose my shit with you?”
Logan takes another step closer.
“Because you’re showing more emotion than you have in weeks,” he says simply. “And because you’re kinda cute when you’re mad.”
My throat burns.
I hate him for being the one thing that feels steady when nothing else in my life is.
“You don’t get to do that,” I snap. “You don’t get to make me feel like I’m crazy for feeling emotions.”
“I’m not,” he says immediately, voice still calm. “You’re not crazy at all, Slo. I promise.”
My chest rises fast, like I’ve been running.
I can feel eyes on us now, guys pretending to focus on their sets while absolutely listening.
Beck has moved farther away. Like a gentleman, or maybe he’s just a little scared of me right now.
Either way, I appreciate it.
I lift my chin. “So what is it, Logan?”
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“I was trying to figure out how to tell you,” he says.
