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*laughing emoji* I get it now.
Dude, why you being weird?
Dammit. I need to stop talking with him.
Going to lie down for a bit. TTYL.
Talk to you later? Why did I say that? I don’t want to talk to him later. Or well, I do, but it would be a disaster. I’m not ready. I should have said that I’d talk to him in a few days when I’m sure this will have passed like a bad case of indigestion. I should cancel all my appointments and go on a trip, but then I won’t be here to convince Father that I’m fake in love with Logan.
Because it’s still fake. It is.
I soak my internal wounds in the hot tub on my balcony. There’s a loud banging on the door just as I was beginning to feel like myself. I live in the penthouse of a condo building in Vancouver that has high-level security. It’s either someone I’ve already approved for the doorman to allow up or a criminal.
It’s more likely to be the former, so I slowly rise out of the cozy water, which slides off me in rivulets, allowing the summer air to breeze over my skin. The clouds have finally parted to offer us the warmth of the sun. Wrapping a towel around myself and padding wet feet through my apartment, I peer through the peephole to see what new hell the universe has in store for me.
Jack…?
I groan. No. Noooo. What is he doing here? I can see the headlines now.Elkington’s Ex Sneaks Over for Midday Rendezvous.
Swinging the door open, I greet him with the best smile I can muster up. He doesn’t do the same, storming past me. “What are you up to, Rhett?”
I put a hand on my chest. “Me, up to something?”
“Yes, you. Logan’s in a mood. He won’t talk to me or Merc about it, but I know it’s because of you.”
“You couldn’t call to ream me out?” I want to hear more about Logan’s mood.
“I wanted to see if you were sick for myself. I knew you weren’t sick. I fucking knew it. Why are you lying to him?”
“I … I don’t know. I’m trying to figure something out and I couldn’t do that with him around. He kept texting me.”
“Because you went from speaking to him every day to radio silence. That freaks Meyers out, dude.”
“Logan isn’t a Meyer.”
“Could have fooled me. He’s got a lot of the same issues. You can’t just drop them like that, or they go a little wild.”
“What’s he doing?”
Jack paces around my apartment. “He’s nastier than he has been in a long while. He’s not sleeping well—Mercy and I heard him getting up in the middle of the night during each of our Stanley shifts and … never mind. Look, you’re supposed to be his friend and he thinks you’ve abandoned him.”
Huffing, I know I have to fix this. “Do me a solid and tell him you saw me and that I was really sick.”
He laughs. “You can’t be for real. Oh, God. You are for real. Mercy was right about you. Why did I expect any less? Cut from the same Elkington cloth as your father?—”
“I’m falling for Logan, Jack, all right?Hard.I can’t fucking breathe.” Clutching my chest might be dramatic, but I feel the need, clawing my nails into wet skin. “I don’t like how this feels.” I’m out of control and an Elkington is never out of control.
“Oh my…” Jack stares wide-eyed. “Oh, shit. You are falling hard. Falling in love sucks, eh? It doesn’t ask for consent; it just steals who you used to be and leaves a love-sick zombie behind.”
“How do I get rid of it?”
“Same way you got over me, I guess.” He shrugs and takes a breath, smiling. I wish he’d stop smiling.
“I didn’t get over you. This whole thing was—in part—a ploy to get you back. I’ll never stop loving you, Jack.”
“Maybe not, but love can take other forms, transform into another kind of love. I know because that’s how I feel about you, chucklehead. Now you and Logan can be together! Rhett and Logan sitting in a tree?—”
“Stop that. Were you always this annoying?”
