Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(117)
She seems to see the fall in my face though. “Well, is he worth it?”
I shrug.
“Is he worth you?”
I hope so? On both accounts?
“Look, what are you doing now?”
We’re back from the farmer’s market in the lobby of my building, arms full of organic produce. I laugh. “Making salad for the next thirty-seven meals?”
Reagan giggles. “Look, let’s just drop this stuff off and go get brunch and mimosas or something.”
I make a face at her. “Mimosas, preggo lady?”
She rolls her eyes again, “I meant for you, doofus. You look like you could use one. I’ll just stick to orange juice and as many sugary breakfast carbs as they’ll let me eat.”
I laugh. “Sounds worth watching, but I actually need to catch up on some stuff for the new proj-”
And just then, the elevator lobby-door next to us decides to ding open, and without a second’s warning, Logan Dempsey walks right off and right into us. I briefly wonder what the odds of a sinkhole occurring at that very moment in that very spot are.
Reagan blinks. “Logan?” She looks at him quizzically. “What are you doing here?”
His face looks pretty much exactly how I’m sure mine does - frozen in absolute shock - but he manages to catch himself faster than me, standing there rooted to the spot. “Oh, I- uh, I live here.” He swallows. “I mean, I keep a place here. It’s a temporary thing.”
“Oh!” Reagan frowns, looking confused before she turns my way. “Quinn, why didn’t you tell me that Logan-”
I know it’s over when I can feel the heat just pulsing from my face. “Oh,” She finishes, giving me a strange little grin before turning back to him with a smile. “Oh you live here!”
“Uh, yeah, sort of.” His eyes dart to mine over Reagan’s shoulders, and I can see the flash of something in them. “Just a temporary space really while they're working on re-doing my penthouse.”
“Oh, right, of course!” Reagan turns back and looks pointedly at me, before she turns back to Logan. “Well, Logan, whoever she was, I hope you’ve got her locked back up now.”
He frowns. “Excuse me?”
“The jungle girl who gave you those crazy hickies on your neck!” Reagan grins, clearly relishing this moment while I just want to melt through the floor right there. Even stone-cold Logan looks totally flustered, and even borderline blushing as he laughs nervously. He brings a hand up to rub the marks on his neck, and it wouldn’t take a forensic team to figure out that they pretty much exactly match the size of my lips.
He forces out a chuckle. “Oh, yeah, that.”
The lobby of the building is so awkwardly silent for a solid ten seconds that I actually start to wonder if just running back out the door would be as horribly embarrassing a plan as it sounds.
“So, I’ll, uh- I’ll see you at the meeting tonight, Quinn.” Logan finally says quickly, his eyes darting across my face.
“Uh, yep. uh-huh.”
He opens his mouth as if to say something more, but then closes it instead and turns back to my sister. “Nice to see you, Reagan.”
He’s barely out the door before my sister is turning to me, the corners of her mouth curling up into a huge grin. “Oooookay, now we’ve got something to talk about, don’t we?”
I nod pitifully, looking at the floor and just wincing.
“I mean, I’m right, right?”
When I say nothing, she comes over and wraps her arms around me, and I just melt into her shoulder, sniffing and trying not to let the emotions get the better of me. “Hey, you know I’m the last person in the world who’s going to judge you for falling for one of Dad’s guys.”
“I know, Ray, but it’s just such a fucking cliché!”
Reagan shoots me a sharp look. “Well I don’t think I’m a cliché.”
“That’s because you aren’t! You and Hudson are like, soulmates or whatever, there’s history there.”
She smiles warmly at me. “Well, it seems you and Logan have histor-”
“Yeah, a one night stand is hardly history, Ray.” I say, barking out a sour laugh.
My sister shrugs. “Well, if that’s all it is, than what’s the problem?”
I guess my silence is enough for her to connect the dots, because the next thing I know, I’m starting to cry as she hugs me tightly and strokes my hair. “I don’t know!”
She squeezes me close, rubbing my back. “So, how about that mimosa now?”
I choke out a giggle through my sniffles into her shirt. “Yes, please.”