Page 44 of That Last Secret

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Page 44 of That Last Secret

“I just have to narrow down what I want you girls to wear so we can order them,” Peyton says, not even noticing the rapidchange of subject. “And we should talk about doing a little bachelor and bachelorette party.”

Thomas groans. “I told you I don’t want to do that.”

“AndItold you”—Peyton pokes his chest—“that we’re doing it whether you like it or not,” she tells him, then turns back to me. “We’re not going to do the typical type, though. My idea is to head back down to the beach house for a night and hang out together. I don’t need a bachelorette party either, but it would be fun to all hang out before the big day.”

Oh no, I cannot go back to the beach house with Logan.

“Sounds good,” I lie, forcing a smile.

For the next twenty minutes, while Peyton continues talking about catering for the wedding and a DJ selection, I sit and hope my brother talks her out of the party idea.

After all, I’m fairly certain the beach house is what started this whole mess.

I stare blankly into the fire crackling under the moonlit sky in the backyard that Thomas and Peyton had built. It feels like a true oasis outside of city life, a place that forces you to decompress and relax.

There’s been a shift in energy since Logan showed up an hour ago.

Not a bad one, but my body is very aware of his presence.

I expected things to be weird between us, but really, they’re the complete opposite of that. Long gone is the man who,I thought, hated me for the last few months. Logan has done nothing but smile and laugh since he got here. And every time I chance a look in his direction, his gaze is already locked on me.

I don’t know what to make of it, but I don’t hate it either.

I opened up to him about how I thought he hated me and how it was driving me insane, so maybe he’s just trying to be nicer now.

The two glasses of sangria I’ve already had don’t help the fact that his laugh makes me want to laugh. Pair that with how he’s been smiling at me, and it’s a deadly combination.

Logan stands on the opposite side of the fire, and my eyes move from the fire to him occasionally. I can’t help but check him out. He’s wearing a pair of khaki shorts with a solid black tee that hugs the muscles on his arm.

“Do we have any more cheeseburgers left?” Logan asks.

My jaw hangs partly open, but I laugh. “Logan, you ate three already! How can you possibly fit anymore?”

He looks at me, and I swear his features soften, his smile growing wider the moment his eyes land on mine. This isn’t him looking at me like I’m his best friend’s little sister anymore. This is him looking at me like he has a soft spot for me.

“I’m a growing boy, Shortcake,” he says with a wink before walking off to get more food.

Did he just?

If we ignore that god-awful nickname, did he just flirt with me?

The conversation continues around me as I stay seated, my mind wandering. I think back to all the things Brooke has said to me about Logan.

Would it be so bad if I tried to pursue something?

If Logan wants it, and he can’t have me because of my brothers, what if we kept it a secret?

Now I know I have to be drunk from the sangria because of these insane thoughts.

I internally laugh to myself at how ridiculous that sounds. At the same time, Logan takes the seat next to me instead of his previous one.

I ignore the humming in my body as everything swirling around in my head only intensifies with him being so close. A part of me thinks this also isn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever thought of doing. I mean… I decided to go to nursing school. That’s pretty damn crazy.

I don’t believe he’s the relationship type, and I can’t get into one with my crazy schedule anyway. But I want that. I can’t deny it anymore. I fucking want it. I want to share the craziness of this life. Someone to talk to about my day and shift at work and vent about when I’m stressed.

I want that with Logan.

I’ve always wanted something with him, and it seems to become more prevalent every time I cross his path.




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