“So we’re rushing now, are we?” Macie asked.
“Well, we do need to work on it, I just hate that it has to be with him.”
But the look she gave me told me she thought I was full of shit.
When we returnedto the house, it was quiet. The dim sunlight shining through the slider and the window over the sink was the only light coming in the rooms. Becca didn’t seem to be home, but Logan’s truck was parked out front. He must’ve been upstairs.
“What are you doing today?” I asked Macie.
“I have homework. There’s a girl in my one class who actually lives a few buildings away. We planned on meeting up today to work together.”
I felt the coldness of the refrigerator as Macie put her leftovers away. As I watched her head upstairs and stood by the island, I was frozen in place, contemplating if I should go to Logan’s room or not. It would be just as easy to camp out on the couch, put on a show, and wait for him to come find me.
But then he’d give me shit, and I really didn’t want that. To be honest, I was tired of being the bitch I’d been to him. He wasn’t a bad guy, from what I’d seen. I didn’t give him a chance. Instead, I judged him on one incident from his past.
That one incident had implications with me he didn’t understand.
Christ, this was all so complicated.
I turned and trudged up the stairs. Once on the second level, I stopped at his door. It was quiet on the other side, some soft music making its way through. I knocked.
“Yeah.”
Opening it, I peeked inside. He was spread out on his bed, making the queen-size mattress look smaller than a twin. He was massive.
Maybe that was part of why he made me nervous. He towered over me by well over a foot. Throw in the thick, corded muscles and he could be scary.
He jumped from his bed when he saw it was me, as if nervous I was in his room.
“Hey.” His voice had a tremor in it.
“Hey.”
As he stood next to his bed, his hands flexing and twisting at his side with anxiety, I focused on his clear eyes as they looked down at me. His sleeves were pushed up over his forearms, which showed those noticeable veins running across them. It matched a pronounced vein in his thick neck I’d never noticed before.
As immense as he was, he was a dichotomy. His size didn’t match his personality one bit. He had the body of a man, but the eyes and look of a sad little boy.
“I’m home,” I told him.
“Yeah, OK, I’ll meet you downstairs and we can get to work.”
My room was dark, but I didn’t bother with the light since I only needed my bag. Once downstairs, I set myself up at the kitchen table. It wasn’t long before I heard his lumbering footsteps overhead.
There were tiny droplets of sweat on my forehead. I turned to look at the thermostat, convinced someone must have raised it, but it was set at the agreed temperature of sixty-eight.
No reasonable explanation for me to be sweating.
Maybe it was my increased heart rate causing it.
Why was I so nervous? It was me who was usually in control of these situations. I made sure of it. But Logan Somers had me off my game, and I definitely did not feel in control.
“Hey,” he said as he took the seat across from me.
I didn’t respond. All I did was pull up the document we needed in order to begin working. We had so much to do and only a little over a week to do it. Maybe the little truce I introduced between us last night would do us some good with our project, at least for the week.
Eventually the conversation flowed between us. At least about the work ahead of us. We seemed to be doing fine as project partners, which was a pleasant surprise. He was creative and had a better mind for this advertising crap than I did. We went with a local, college related company, and I liked the ideas he suggested.
We were about two hours in when I suggested we take a break.
