Logan’s features pulled taut; a muscle began to tic in his jaw. “You’re being irresponsible. And after what happened last week—”
“That’s not fair,” I whispered angrily. “It’s two totally different situations. Now give it back.”
“No,” he growled, nostrils flaring. “You’ve had enough.”
“Cassie’s wine is usually pretty weak, mate,” Jordy addressed Logan. “It’s only aged a few weeks so—”
“Fuck off,” Logan bit out, his angry gaze snapping to Jordy. “No onefucking asked you,mate.”
I blinked, startled by the malice in Logan’s tone and the horrible way he was looking at Jordy. I realized, with a note of surprise, that this wasn’t the first time he’d looked at Jordy like this. I’d always attributed it to Logan’s dislike for anyone that wasn’t like him—an uptight stickler with an endless list of rules—but looking at Logan now, I knew his dislike for Jordy went much deeper.
Jordy’s gaze flicked rapidly between me and Logan, as if it couldn’t decide where to land. “Okay,” he said slowly. “My bad.”
“Well, well, well.” Ella’s smile was downright snakelike. “What an interesting development.”
A palpable silence followed. A quick look around the quiet table showed all eyes on Logan and me, expressions ranging from curious to outright amused. Mortification flooded my neck and chest, flashing hotly in my cheeks.
“Well, shit—is it dancin’ time already?” Britta made a big show of checking her naked wrist as if she were wearing a watch. “I think it is!” Slapping her hands down on the tabletop, she shoved up out of her seat. “You hear that, Willow? The DJ is playin’ our song!” Grabbing my arm, Britta hauled me off the bench and hurried me from the table.
“Lord knows I like gossip as much as the next,” she whispered. “But you and Eddie just gave everyone within earshot enough fodder to last ‘em the whole dang winter.”
Panic thudded through me, my throat painfully bobbing. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear it isn’t.”
“Oh, it most definitelyiswhat it looks like,” she retorted. “That whole nutty scene you made out there on the porch makes a heck of a lot more sense now—but I’ll spare ya the embarrassment of tellin’ ya whatcha already know.”
Britta paused to scoop a pitcher of wine off a nearby table, along with two empty wineglasses. “Mighty kind of you to share,” she said, nodding at the table’s startled occupants. Filling our glasses, she tapped her glass to mine, causing purple liquid to slosh over the rims and spill on the floor. “Time to dance!”
Chugging half her glass, Britta sashayed onto the dance floor where the overhead lights had been dimmed, and the fairy lights strung over the rafters caused a reflective glimmer similar to a disco ball. Though the stereo still played, a band was in the process of setting up—a handful of Silver Lake residents with an eclectic collection of instruments—a brown and battered upright piano, two colorfully hand-painted ukuleles, and a drum set consisting of a snare, a floor tom,and a cymbal. While Xavier fiddled with a ukulele, Cassie stood beside him, tapping a tambourine in her hand. She waved when she saw me, pulling her long, flowing dress into a curtsy.Love it,she mouthed, pointing at the embroidered skirt—another drama club find.
“Come on, Willow, dance with me.” Britta beckoned, shimmying to the beat of the song.
Sipping on my wine, I slid a surreptitious glance back the way we’d come. Only Logan and Ella remained at our table—Ella drinking from her flask while Logan stared daggers at me, his gaze full of all the irritation and displeasure of a disapproving parent.
Mortification clashed with anger, anger clashed with obstinance and obstinance clashed with… longing. Again, the ghost of Logan’s touch whispered across my cheek. Feeling sick, I spun around and hastily threw back my drink. With wine dribbling down my chin, I hurried to join Britta on the dance floor.
