All I needed to do was keeptelling myself that.
When I got back to thekitchen in fuzzy pink pajama pants and a shirt with a matching fuzzy heart onit, Logan didn’teven bat an eyelid.
Instead, he passed me a mugof hot cocoa with one giant marshmallow in it instead of the traditionalhalf-dozen small ones.
“All I could find,” he saidapologetically. “You can also have it without, I made enough cocoa for thewhole building.”
“Used to doing this for morepeople?” I asked, wrapping my hands around the mug.
“Pretty much,” Logan satdown opposite me with his own mug. “I always kept a stash of chocolate, y’know,when we were deployed. After a tough day, I’d make everyone hot chocolate withwhatever I had. And sometimes goat milk.”
I wrinkled my nose at thethought.
“Actually not as bad as itsounds,” Logan smiled, but it was a distant smile, as though it wasn’t reallyforme. For somethingin the past, I thought. Other people. His friends.
I wanted the smile for me.
I couldn’t stop thinkingabout kissing him, or how eager he’d seemed, or how mad I was at Mrs. Seif forinterrupting.
She was a sweet little oldlady, though, and she’d fed me and Gabe more times than I could count. Icouldn’tstaymad at her.
All I could do was wonderwhatif.
I sipped my hot chocolate,focusing on deep, even breaths. Things were okay. I had nothing to worry about.
“What’s in this?” I asked,sniffing the mug to see if I could identify the other flavors for myself.
“A hint of vanilla, nutmeg,and sea salt,” Logan said. “Raided your baking supplies.”
I shrugged. “They’re notmine. I don’t think Gabe’s coming back for them, though. So… I guess we’rethrowing them out unless there’s anything worth keeping.”
As ifleaving my friendswasn’tbad enough, I also had to pack up my things and move again. Making this thethird time in ten months.
Gabe had been so patientwith me. He would have stayed if I hadn’t kicked him out. I didn’tdeserve him.
“Coulda done some damagewith that riding crop,” Logan said. It was the most transparent attempt tochange the subject I’d ever witnessed, but I’d allow it. Anything to talk aboutsomethingotherthan howmiserable I was.
I could hardly believe hewas still being kind to me after I pounced on him. Heshouldhave beenpacking his bags and walking away, refusing to work for me anymore.
I’d been so stupid, and Loganwas letting me get away with it.
Another man I didn’t deserve.
“Probably not,” I said. “Idon’t really know how to use one. Never seemed fair to the horses.”
“So you… like horses?” Loganasked, dipping his tongue into the melted marshmallow foam on top of his hotchocolate like a five-year-old.
I liked that. There was aninnocence to it.
Like Logan had said earlier,hewasn’tsome big macho idiot. No one could ever questionthat he was a man. Everything about him wasmasculine, but not in aharsh, sharp-edged way. He was comfortable in his own skin.
I wondered if he knew howunusual that was.
“My family breeds horses. I’ma real live horse girl.” I smiled wryly.
I needed to apologize toLogan. He deserved that. No matter how awkward it was going to feel.
Logan was the best bodyguardI was likely to get. He made me feel safe, and I couldn’t risk losing him over onestupid mistake. Even if he didn’t seem like he was about to get up and leaveright now.
