I'm dressed, but I'm just standing there across the bed from him, not really sure what I'm waiting for. Closure? Release? Affirmation that me running out the second we wake up and not talking about what happened doesn't just make this whole thing even more messed up?
"Logan-"
My phone rings again in my hand and I wince. Logan just slides out of bed and pads across the loft to the bathroom, where he slams the door shut behind him.
"Hey, you okay?"
I'm walking through the union Square Farmer's Market with Reagan, picking over strawberries and trying to drag my mind away from what happened back in Logan's apartment. I'm also trying to concentrate on whatever my sister is talking about. Clearly, I'm failing.
"Uh, yeah," I shake my head and pop a strawberry into my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine I guess."
Reagan arches a brow at me with a sisterly look I know all too well. "Bullshit."
"You know, you're starting to swear as much as your husband, Ray." I stick my tongue out at her. "You two are going to have to quit talking like sailors when the baby comes along you know." I say, nodding at the small bulge in her stomach.
"Oh, give me a break. I happen to like my husband's dirty mouth," Reagan says with a wicked little wink, and I blush. Of course she doesn't know that I'm actually blushing for a different reason concerning that particular dirty word-play.
Anyone ever tell you you've got a dirty mouth, Doc?
OK, yeah, that needs to get the hell out of my head right now.
"You're distracted."
"Hmm?" I try and look as innocent as possible, which is hard with thoughts of Logan's cock throbbing through my head and the guilty blush across my cheeks.
"Is it work? No, wait," Reagan peers into my face with a little grin. "It's a guy, isn't it."
Crap.
"Nope."
"Quinn."
"Hmm?" My sister has this big shit-eating grin on her face and I look at her nervously. "What?"
"Uh, Quinn you have a giant hickey on your neck."
The flush hits my face like a heatwave, and I cringe and look away as she laughs. "Well well! Cool as a cucumber Quinn is all turned around because of a guy! Do I need to save this date for posterity or something?"
I roll my eyes, trying to will the color away from my cheeks. "It's not like that."
"Well, then dish. What is it like?"
Forbidden? Off-limits? Wrong? Incredibly hot and the best sex I've ever had in my life?
"He's- he's someone I shouldn't be with, like at all."
Reagan rolls her eyes. "Well you're talking to the right girl, you know. We're in my wheelhouse now!"
Oh you have no freaking idea how right you are, Ray, I want to say. But of course I don't.
"So, spill it! Why is this such a bad thing?" Reagan frowns. "Oh, God, this isn't another workplace thing like with Andrew, is it?"
"Uh, no." I swallow heavily and look away to avoid her look, but I know she catches me anyways.
"Quinn-"
"Ok! Yeah, sort of."
Reagan's eyes go wide as she grins at me. "At Archer? Is he like your boss or something?" She makes a dramatic face as she pokes me in the arm. "Ooo, so scandalous, girl!"
"Sort of? Not really I guess."
More like just plain bossy?
My younger sister waves her hand as if brushing something away. "Oh, who cares then? I say go for it. I mean how long ago was Andy?"
We've moved on from the strawberries towards a stand selling cutesy "farm-style" kitchen utensils. "Uh, well, I also sort of live with him."
It spills from my mouth before I can stop it, and Reagan about drops the wooden salad bowl she's looking at as she turns to stare at me with her jaw on the ground. "What?!"
"No! No, not like-! I mean, he lives in my building." I stammer, feeling more and more flustered the further down this rabbit hole we get.
"Ooooh!" Reagan shakes her head at me. "Well, yeah I guess that would make things complicated."
Tell me about it, I think glumly, dropping my gaze to the ground.
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."
Chapter Nineteen
Logan
Quinn gives me this ridiculous sort of silent treatment-type bullshit over the next few days at work. I mean, she speaks to me when she has to, like when we're in a meeting or something, but past that it's like a cold, frosty wall.
And it's pissing me the fuck off.
Beyond that, I swear she's going out of her damn way to look fucking amazing around the office. Okay, it's not like I'm witnessing some sort of porno slutty-doctor-outfit fantasy or anything. It's the opposite actually, and that's what so damn enticing about it. She's formal, and all business, but there's something crazy sexy about the way she wears her hair up, or pushes the dark-framed glasses she sometimes wears instead of contacts up the bridge of her nose. She's got these fucking pencil skirts too that just hug every sweet curve of her ass and show off her legs, and I can't help but let my eyes linger on her as she walks away from a meeting room, or leans over a desk to type a quick note.