His Plaything(38)

Still restless, I spent the rest of the night struggling to sleep, painfully aware of Avery's presence just a few feet down the hall.

When the first pale glow of dawn showed through the blinds, I gave up on bed and started to get dressed. Without bothering with breakfast or a shower, I went downstairs to the condo parking lot. I could have walked to Logan's townhouse in less than half an hour—it was just down the side road that ran along the beach where we jogged every Saturday—but my patience was too shredded for that kind of delay. I wanted answers now, and if I couldn't talk to Avery, I’d have to get them from Logan. Hopefully lover-boy could explain what the fuck was going on with her.

In five minutes I was parked at the curb and knocking loudly on his door. “Morning,” I said as soon as he opened up.

Logan blinked. He was probably surprised to see me like this at the crack of dawn. But his only response was, “Oh, hey. I was just making some coffee. Want some?”

“That sounds great.”

He stepped back to let me in, then closed the door as I sat down at his dining table. “No sugar and a little cream, right?”

“Yep.”

I didn't bring up why I had come yet—and he didn't ask. We just let the silence hang, unbroken except for the gurgling hiss of the coffee machine and Logan moving around in the kitchen, until he sat down across from me with two steaming mugs in hand.

“Thanks,” I said, taking mine.

Logan nodded a silent no prob. His gaze was cool, but I could read the question in it. Now that we were finally ready to talk, though … I wondered where to even start.

Maybe I hadn't thought this little intel-gathering mission all the way through. I couldn't treat Logan like a partner, because debriefing him fully would just overcomplicate things. He didn't need to know that I liked Avery—more than liked her, if I wanted to be brutally honest with myself—or that we'd been fucking like rabbits for the past few weeks. I couldn't afford to get sidetracked by raised eyebrows or awkward questions right now. And, provided that we ever talked again, I didn't want Avery to skin me alive. She'd only recently gotten over being ashamed of our relationship, and now that she wanted nothing to do with me, it was way too hard to predict how she'd react to me blabbing our dirty laundry all over town.

I needed to play it cool. So this couldn't be an open strategy meeting between friendlies. Instead, it was more like espionage. Fucking terrific. I love lying to my best friend.

“So … I told you to check up on Avery while I was gone,” I said, trying to sound like nothing more than a concerned older brother. “I didn't think you'd date her.”

Logan paused, mug halfway to his mouth. “Oh. Yeah.” He set it down again. “Don't worry about that.”

“I'll worry about my family if I want.”

My voice had come out harsher than I'd intended, but Logan didn't seem offended. “That's cool,” he said simply. In fact, his lips were quirked the tiniest bit. Did he think this was funny? I guess I was acting like kind of a jackass, but still. Wasn't there a whole section of the Bro Code about not messing with people's sisters?

“We're not dating,” Logan continued. “We had one date. Singular.”

“And you never thought of anything beyond that?” Or purposely waited to make your move until my back was turned?

Looking a little confused, he shrugged. “Well … yeah, sure. What's the point of asking a girl out on one date if you're not gunning for a second?”

Several obvious answers came to mind. But Logan had never been a fuck-and-run kind of guy. “I guess,” I said slowly.

“But things haven't gotten that far yet.” He sipped his coffee. “And if they did later … would that really be the end of the world? You know me, man. I'd never hurt her.”

As much as it killed me to admit it, I knew he was right. Logan was one of the good guys. I nodded, raising my eyebrows to let him know he was still on trial. “Fair enough. So how'd things go last night?” I wanted Logan to think I was fishing for an excuse to kick his ass, instead of clues about why Avery might hate me—or a morsel of hope that I wouldn't lose Avery to him anytime soon. “What did you guys do?”

Logan wouldn't outright lie to me, but he was more than smart enough to choose his words carefully. “Nothing much. We had dinner at The Pointe.”

Holy shit, The Pointe? This guy doesn't leave anything to chance. “Oh, is that all?” I snorted bitterly. Compared to Mister Romance here, I look like a complete tool.

“Swear to God. We just talked about our careers and Avery's classes and stuff like that. Home safe before curfew.” Logan had completely misunderstood my icy reaction, and I wasn't about to correct him. He hesitated, staring into his coffee, before slowly saying, “She's … easy to talk to. I'd meant to keep the conversation light, but before I knew it, I was telling her how I wanted to leave the SEALs. And all my reasons why.”