“Yeah?”
“There’s no hoodie in here.”
“Huh. Weird.”
He just looks at me, then exhales through his nose, and turns toward the bedroom again.
Now I’m pretty sure he’s just straight suspicious.
He ignores me, walking straight past, pushing the bedroom door open wider. Each step feels like a countdown.
Three. Two. One.
He grabs the closet handle and yanks it open.
I stop breathing.
But there’s nothing there.
Just hangers. Shoes. A pile of sweatshirts. And definitely no Logan.
Jackson blinks as he grabs one. “Yeah, there it is. Love this Riverbend U hoodie.”
My brain short-circuits. Where the hell did he go?
“I swear I heard something in here,” he mutters. “Just want to make sure there’s not squirrels in the walls or something.”
“Yeah,” I say quickly, heart still racing. “Old houses have ‘house noises’ sometimes, right? Probably super normal.”
He eyes me one more time, then shrugs. “Alright. I’m gonna head down and start on the cabinet.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I don’t move until I hear the stairs creak beneath his weight, each step putting space between us.
Then I spin toward the closet, examining it thoroughly. I even check the ceiling, in case he’s pulling some Spider-Man stuff, but he’s not there.
What the hell?
Chapter Twenty-Three
LOGAN
By the time her brother opens the closet, I’m already on the lawn. Meanwhile, I’m shirtless and shoeless.
Not to mention completely naked.
And yeah. This is a big problem.
Okay. Think, Logan.
This feels like a flashback to college. Except I never actually went to college.
Clothes.I need clothes.
I scan Cassie’s back patio, eyes darting like something might magically appear. Why did we, as a society, abandon clotheslines? This feels like exactly the kind of situation they were invented for.
My gaze drifts to the trees. Right. Because I’m Tarzan now.
