Chapter Twenty-Five

Sure enough, the doorbell rings a few minutes later. I drop the novels I was boxing up and sprint for the door. “I’ll get it!”

I yank it open to find Logan in his winter coat with Sloane’s beanie pulled down low on his forehead. Ohio weather is so unpredictable and today has been especially cold. He gives me a lopsided grin and I melt like snow in the heat of the sun. He shouldn’t be allowed to have this kind of effect on me when I’m trying to be annoyed.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“Barbara texted,” he says simply. “When your grandma texts, I come.”

I roll my eyes. He’s too cute. No wonder he’s usurped me and Andrew to become her favorite grandchild.

“Plus, I wanted to see how you were doing,” he continues.

I shake my head. “I appreciate it, but now isn’t the time. We’re all here cleaning out the house. Like, Mom and Dad are here. And Grandma is out for blood. I don’t think you should be meeting my family for the first time right now.”

“But I brought her a pint of sherbet.” He holds up a smallbag.

“Wow, you’re a suck-up. Are you trying to get in the will or something?”

“Are you trying to waste my future inheritance on heating bills?” He gestures to the doorframe. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Fine.” I step aside and let him walk in. I try to keep my annoyance in the forefront of my mind. If I’m annoyed, it’s easier to ignore how adorable he looks with his hair sticking out of his beanie. Or how his thoughtfulness for Grandma makes my insides turn to goo.

His hand slips into mine and he squeezes. “I’m glad to see you, despite your dessert-related hostility.”

“Hello?” Dad’s voice issues from the living room and I pull my hand away.

Logan turns as Dad comes down the hall. “Mr.Norton? Nice to meet you. I’m Logan.” Logan puts his hand out, a smile on his face.

Dad does a stutter step, clearly surprised by Logan’s formal demeanor. He’s acting like he’s about to walk into a job interview. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you as well. I heard my mother has been recruiting you to help her around the house.”

“Yes, some, but I’m happy to help.”

“Right, well, I appreciate that.” Dad’s eyes flick to me for a second. “And you play games with Quinn?”

“D&D.” Logan glances at me, but there’s no spark like there was a moment ago when we were alone. He might as well be smiling at a mildly amusing cereal ad on TV. “Quinn’s been a great addition to our group.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. Well, it’s kind of you to come, but it really isn’t necessary. We’ve got it handled.”

“Sure, I don’t want to interrupt,” Logan replies easily. He holds up the bag in his hands. “I brought some orange sherbet for Barbara. I know it’s her favorite.”

“Did I hear sherbet?” Mom says, and joins us at Dad’s side. “My goodness, what a nice gesture.” She lays a hand on Dad’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll perk her up to see you. Come in.”

Dad’s mouth pinches at the corners, but he never argues with Mom, and he clearly isn’t going to start today. Logan and I follow my parents into the living room. He raises his eyebrows at me as if to say, Impressed?

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” I whisper back.

Grandma hoots and tries to stand as soon as Logan walks into the room, but he gestures for her to stay seated. “No need to get up for me. How are you? I heard you took a tumble.”

“Not as bad as you did when you tried playing pickleball.”

He laughs loudly and the rest of us join in. “And I see you’re not going to let me forget it,” he admits. “I brought you your favorite flavor.”

A wide smile takes over her face, showing every laugh line and wrinkle. She looks beautiful and it makes my heart tug to see Logan’s effect on her. What is he doing to me? I’m trying my very best not to fall for him and he returns the favor by giving my grandma sherbet and making her smile like she’s a teenager again? No one can win that war.

Grandma whips her head to the rest of us. “I don’t see you all bringing dessert. Just empty boxes.”

We look around sheepishly.

“I could run out and get something?” Andrew says.

“Oh, never mind now.” She waves a dismissive hand athim.

“We’ll work on him,” Logan says conspiratorially. “And I see they’re making your living room all cluttered too. How about I get some of these boxes out of here so they aren’t an eyesore.”

“Thank you, dear. At least one person around here has some sense.” She pats his cheek fondly and settles herself back into her chair.

Logan turns around and gives me a wink. “Quinn, how about we clean this stuff out?”

“Um, sure.”

Mom hands me my coat from the side of the couch with a knowing smirk on her face. I’m so busted.

I grab the closest box and carry it outside to Dad’s trunk. “So let me get this straight,” I say as I come up beside Logan. “She can’t stop complaining about us being in her house, but then you show up, woo her with a gift, and convince her that it’s her idea for us to take everything out of her house? Like, how?”

“The word you’re looking for is charm. ” He puts the box in the trunk and steps closer to me. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” I say softly.

We go back into the house and collect the next set of boxes to bring out to the car. Andrew eyes us suspiciously—like he thinks I’m getting away with something by having a friend here to help with Grandma—but he doesn’t complain. I half expect my dad to follow us out, maybe throw out a few intimidating questions to Logan just for the fun of it, but Grandma is keeping him and Mom busy. And I think I catch her wink at Logan as we walk out of the house together. She’s always up to something.

We set our boxes in the trunk and Logan stops me before we can go back inside. “I’m happy to see you, even under these conditions.” He brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “Your cheeks are pink from the cold. It makes you look even prettier than usual.”

“Logan.”

“I know, I know.” He steps back and tugs his beanie down. “I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything today. But then I see you and I can’t stop myself.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Do you? I keep wondering if it’s just me.”

The heat simmering under my skin is proof that’s not true. Each time we see each other, the risks grow bigger. There’s so much at stake. For the D&D group, yes, but for me personally too. What if I lose Kashvi over this? Or what if I pursue things with Logan and it all ends up imploding? If we started anything in earnest and it fell apart, it would decimate my heart. The way I feel about him, the level of trust I have in him already, it’s beyond anything I’ve felt before. I don’t know if I can open myself up to the possibility of that pain.

But maybe if we stop right now before things go further, there’s a chance we can preserve the game and our friendships. I groan and rub my hands over my face.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really. I don’t know.” I shake my head, heavy with the knowledge of what we need to do. “We can’t keep going like this, Logan. This…this in-between where we’re not together but we’re not just friends either. It’s too hard.”

“What should we do instead?”

“We should stop seeing each other.”

“But what would we do about Saturdays?” He steps closer, almost like he can’t stop himself. “We can’t avoid each other forever.”

“We can avoid being alone together,” I say. “It’s only a problem when we’re alone.”

“I’m not sure I’d agree this is a problem. ” He lifts his hand and trails the pad of his thumb down my jawline. His fingers are cold, but that’s not why I shiver.

“You’re doing it again.”

He tilts his head up to the sky. “Yeah, I am. I’m not sure I can stop.”

“This is what I’m talking about.”

I hate this so much that I’m tempted to swallow my words and change the subject. But then I remember Kashvi and her comments about Logan. They’re burned into my mind. How could she not feel betrayed if I moved forward with him knowing she’s liked him and done nothing because of her loyalty to the group? I want to explain all this so he’ll understand why I’m so concerned. The problem is that Kashvi’s secret isn’t mine to tell. I could never break her confidence by saying something to him about it.

The reminder cements my feelings like nothing else could.

“We shouldn’t be alone together anymore,” I state with the least emotion possible.

“Can I be honest?”

“Probably a bad choice, but yeah.”

“It won’t be enough.” Logan glances back at the house to make sure we’re still alone and ducks his head toward me. “Even if I can’t see you, I’ll still want to talk to you. I want your opinions on my assassin campaign. I want to tell you how Susie Q is doing—total manipulator, by the way. She has Mom wrapped around her tail. I want to see pictures of your latest jewelry and get updates on how Barbara is doing.”

“Don’t worry about that. She’ll text you without telling me and then you’ll show up at her house again unannounced.”

“I couldn’t turn her down.”

“And when she sends us back up to the attic alone again?”

His eyes glitter and I know he’s imagining what we could do up there alone. He blows out a breath. “I’m starting to understand your point better. We really have gotten ourselves into a mess, haven’t we?”

“A colossal mess.”

“So…okay, maybe you have the right idea,” he says. “We go cold turkey for a while. See each other on Saturdays for the game, and otherwise…”

“We’re strangers.”

We both nod in silent agreement, and I swallow past the sadness threatening to overtake me. I know why we’re doing this, but it doesn’t change the fact that I just lost one of the best things in my life.