Chapter 64

CHAPTER 64

MIRA

I woke up on Anya's sofa with a mild headache and a bit of a dry mouth. As I slowly cracked open my eyes, I looked around the destruction in the living room from last night and cringed. Oops .

An empty ice-cream container, chip bag, a couple empty bottles of beer, and another of sparkling wine littered the coffee table. My shoes, belt, and purse lay on the floor beside it. I groaned and rubbed my eyes as I sat up, still moving slowly as the events of the night started coming back to me.

My heart cracked once more when I remembered the part where I'd fled Logan's place with tears streaming down my face. I'd hoped the pain would be better today, but it wasn't.

Instead, it felt like day one of what would promise to be a loveless, joyless life from here on out, and the corners of my mouth turned down, tears welling in my eyes again. God, heartbreak makes me dramatic. Who would've known?

As I hated myself for being a weak, hopeless mess, Anya strode down the hall, freshly showered and cheerful. She smiled at me, and I hated her just a little bit too. "Good morning, sunshine."

"There is no sunshine here." I grabbed the edge of the blanket she'd given me to sleep under and dropped the fabric over my head. " There's only misery, so I suggest you save your smiles for someone who doesn't feel like their hearts have been carved out by a blunt butter knife."

"A blunt butter knife, huh? That's creative." She giggled and dropped a kiss on top of my head when she walked past me into the kitchen. "Coffee? It might make you feel better."

The only thing that would make me feel better was Logan walking in here and declaring that he wanted a football team of kids with me. Okay, maybe not a football team. Two will be fine . "Coffee sounds amazing. Thank you."

"Would you look at that? You're already letting go of the theatrics. I think you're going to be just fine."

I folded my arms on the back of her sofa, resting my chin on them. I stared at her busying herself in the kitchen. "Do you really think so? It doesn't feel like I'm going to be fine. How long does it take to get over something like this?"

"Falling in love with your brother's best friend and then dumping him because he's a billionaire who doesn't want to procreate?" she mused. "I don't know. I don't have a brother and I don't know how long it takes for that billionaire shine to fade, but maybe two weeks?"

I snorted. "I meant heartbreak. If I had the energy to chuck a pillow at your head right now, I would."

Anya winked at me as she cracked two eggs into a pan. "See, you're even already starting to sound more like yourself. Let's give it ten days. That seems reasonable."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Optimistic, but I hope you're right. I don't know how I'm even going to make it ten hours feeling like this, let alone ten days."

Her expression grew a touch less cheerful. "Realistically, it's probably going to take much, much longer than that, babe. If your heart really is broken, I'm afraid you're in for it."

"Great," I grumbled, closing my eyes and mentally debating the pros and cons of staying in bed for two years. Or until I felt better. Whichever came first .

A knock sounded at the door just as Anya was fixing our coffee and I lifted my head. "Who's that?"

"Probably just an Amazon delivery or something," she replied as she tightened the belt on her robe and strode over to the door. "I ordered a new dild?—"

She stopped when she opened the door in her robe and with a towel on her head and found my brother standing on the other side. Letting out a squeak of embarrassment, she let the door hang wide open as she took a few steps back.

"Mira? It's for you. It's Slate." Her voice sounded too high.

I sighed. "Yeah, thanks. Are you okay?"

"No." She spun to me, her eyes as big as they'd ever been as she jerked her head at the door and practically shouted, "So, uh, your brother is here. I should get dressed."

Under any other circumstances, I would've smirked or laughed, but I couldn't muster the energy for any of that. Instead, I just watched as she sped down the hall, fleeing back to her bedroom and leaving the frying eggs on the stove.

"Come in and close the door behind you," I said to my brother as I finally climbed off the sofa, a bit hungover but not so much that I couldn't handle the questions screaming their way through my brain. "What are you doing here?"

There. The most important one is out.

Slate did what I'd said, shuffling into Anya's tiny apartment and sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I came to check on you."

The smoke alarm went off as I stopped to stare at him. I darted into the kitchen but he beat me to it, removing the pan and waving a hand to disperse the smoke. "Damn, what did you guys do last night?"

"Nothing," I said, knowing I sounded snippy. "You made her burn my eggs with your surprise visit."

"Me?" He scrunched his face up as he pointed at his chest. "I had nothing to do with this. I'd be happy to take you to breakfast, though. We should talk. "

"We have nothing to talk about." I wasn't trying to be difficult or stubborn. I just wasn't ready for the "I told you so's" to start just yet.

Slate turned to me once the smoke had dissipated. "Okay, you don't have to talk, then. You can just listen, but I have a few things I need to say."

I hung my head as all that guilt crashed back into me. "Not today, Slate. Okay. I know I've been a terrible sister and I led your best friend astray. I'm sorry, but just, not today."

"Mira—"

"Oh, my god," Anya squealed as she rushed back into the kitchen, seeing the last tendrils of smoke drifting up to the ceiling and clasping her hands over her mouth. "Oh. My. God. My eggs!"

I didn't miss that she had slipped into her favorite pair of jeans. A pair that just so happened to make her ass look great. Between that and her being so flustered about Slate being here, I rolled my eyes a little internally. I loved my best friend to bits, but at the risk of sounding like my brother, a relationship between them would never, ever work.

Anya flushed beet red when she saw him still holding the pan. "I'm so sorry about that. I promise my eggs are better than that."

"They weren't my eggs." He gave her a friendly smile. "I don't really know why you're apologizing to me, but don't sweat it. I just grabbed it so it didn't start a fire."

She returned his smile with a radiant one of her own, looking at her like those damsels in distress when they realized the superhero was about to save them. "Thank you! I would've hated being responsible for the whole building burning down. Some people love living here."

He gave her a quizzical look. "Some people? I, uh, yeah. I get that. It's a funky neighborhood. Very artsy."

While she batted her lashes like he'd paid her the greatest compliment ever, he cleared his throat and turned to me. "Seriously, can we talk?"

"Fine. You talk. I'll try to listen." It was the best I could promise right now. "Step into my office. "

I walked back to my sofa and blanket and sat back down, covering myself to my chin as more pain streaked through me. Seeing Slate hurt. He reminded me too much of all the reasons why Logan was gone. "How did you find me here?"

"Because I know you better than anyone," he said. "I know you and Logan broke up, so when you weren't home, I knew you'd be here."

Tears stung my already puffy eyes, my throat thick and aching as I tried to hold them back. "What do you want?"

He sighed and inclined his head at the empty bottles. "Do you need a painkiller or something?"

"Or something," I muttered. "I'm only going to ask you one last time and then, if I still don't have an answer, I'm going back to sleep. Now, what do you want?"

"Coffeeeee!" Anya sing-songed as she walked out of the kitchen with a steaming mug in each hand. "I didn't burn it, so that's progress."

Slate accepted his with a grateful nod, looking severely uncomfortable as he brought his gaze back to mine. Anya handed over my mug, then went back to fetch her own and sat down with us. "So you heard the news, huh? Lora is no more."

"Lora?" He frowned. "The fuck is that?"

"Logan and Mira," I explained, my voice flat and tight. "How did you know we broke up?"

The discomfort hardened his features again, his face turning a little red as he pushed past it. "I think I made a mistake."

"Excuse me?" I screwed up my face as I glared him. "What mistake? What did you do?"

He blew steam across the surface of his coffee, not looking at me as he shifted on his ass like he was trying to get comfortable but couldn't. My glare intensified. "Slate?"

"I got in your head about Logan." He finally looked at me again and then ran a hand through his short hair. "I'm sorry."

"What?" I reached down to pinch my thigh, convinced I was dreaming. I jolted when I felt the accompanying pain and glanced at Anya. "Okay, so I'm awake. Am I hallucinating?"

She shook her head, looking as flabbergasted as I was feeling. Luckily, she didn't seem to be struggling with the same level of speechlessness. "We're going to need you to explain yourself, Slate Spiers. You do not get to walk your sexy ass in here, set my eggs on fire, and stir up a dust storm of confusion. Nice and slow. What do you mean, you're sorry for getting in Mira's head?"

He pursed his lips as he dragged in a deep breath through his nostrils, clearly irritated about being questioned by her, but he was the one who'd interrupted our morning at her house, so he could go suck an egg if he thought we were going to talk alone.

"Logan came to see me last night." He focused his eyes back on mine. "He was broken."

Anya shook her head. "Define broken. Sad or drunk?"

"Sad," Slate said sincerely before he flinched. "Then drunk. You're not the only ones who could use some painkillers this morning, but that set aside, he was in real bad shape. I even thought he was going to pass out for a minute there."

"From the sadness, or the drunkenness?" Anya asked, her eyes pinning him against the sofa. "Again, Sexy Slate, you're going to have be clear here. You Spiers kids seem to have a problem with vagueness. One needs to be precise."

He snorted. "Okay, you want me to be precise? I was wrong about Mira and Logan. He and I sat down last night. We talked. I'll leave it to him to explain exactly what we talked about, but I made some assumptions that I've realized now I shouldn't have made and I think you should give him another chance."

Anya sucked in an audibly sharp breath before she tried to swallow her breathless laughter. "Assumption really is the mother of all evils."

I was glad she'd processed what he'd said so quickly. Personally, I was having a little bit more trouble comprehending the words coming out of his mouth. " You want me to give him another chance?"

Slate nodded. Anya looked back and forth between us like she was watching a tennis match. And I was back to gaping as the words finally sank in.

After everything he'd done to break us apart, Slate now wanted me to give Logan another chance. I scoffed out loud and narrowed my eyes in the most meaningful death-glare that had ever existed. "Are you freaking kidding me?! What the hell, Slate? I just broke up with him last night. What could he possibly have told you last night that both of us haven't tried to tell you before? I mean, seriously? Are you fucking with me right now?"