Then he stops.
He stays exactly where he is—frozen at the edge of the patio like a statue, like he’s fighting himself.
His jaw clenches once, hard.
And as Ethan moves me farther away, drawing me into a different pocket of the party, Logan doesn’t move.
He just watches as I walk away.
14
LOGAN
Beck finds me exactly where I left myself—stuck at the edge of the patio like my feet are glued to the concrete and my brain is on a delay.
The backyard is still loud, still full of people pretending life is simple, but my whole body is tuned to one thing: Sloane Rhodes getting guided across the party by some guy in a flannel like she’s not one wrong breath away from snapping in half.
My hand is clamped around the crutch handle hard enough to numb my fingers.
Beck steps up beside me, red cup in hand, eyebrows already climbing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, tone casual, eyes not.
“I’m standing,” I say.
Beck huffs a laugh. “Yeah, no shit. Why are you standing like you’re about to commit a crime?”
I don’t answer. Beck doesn’t need an answer. He follows my line of sight anyway—because of course he does—and his mouth twists the second he spots her.
“Oh,” he says. “That.”
I keep my eyes on Sloane. The guy leans in to say something, she laughs politely, and it hits me in the chest like a cheap shot.
Beck takes a sip of his drink. “You gonna go over there or just glare until your eyes cramp?”
“I’m not going over there,” I mutter.
Beck’s brows lift. “Why?”
Because the last time I went over there at a party, I ruined everything.
Because jealousy turns me into an asshole.
Because I don’t trust my mouth with her when I feel like that.
“I don’t get to,” I say.
Beck angles his head, studying me. “Okay. That’s dramatic. Explain.”
I exhale through my nose, jaw tight. “You remember freshman year? That party we went to, and I was pissed as shit after?”
Beck nods slowly. “I mean, you mentioned it. Not in detail, but…yeah.”
My throat tightens. “She kissed some guy.”
Beck’s eyes narrow. “And you lost your mind.”
I don’t deny it.
