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I study him, wondering if maybe hehaschanged. Maybe he laughs all the time now. Maybe the rumors about him being intense and serious and having a quick temper were all exaggerations.
But then I remember how he was in the conference room earlier. Hard. Angry. Dismissive. That seemed like a different man from the relaxed, teasing, laughing version in front of me. And the one who trapped me in the elevator and joked in my office.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m just trying to decide how you’ve changed.Ifyou’ve changed.”
“And? What’s the verdict?”
“Unsure. I’ll let you know.”
Logan tilts his head, and I will my cheeks not to blush under his gaze.
“Well, you haven’t changed,” he says after a moment. “Still the same Parker I remember.”
And …there’sthe inevitable disappointment as reality punches me right in the windpipe. Logan thinks I haven’t changed. He last saw me a little over ten years ago. When I was fifteen. Practically a baby.
Ihavechanged. I’ve changed a lot.
But if Logan still sees me as the same awkward kid he knew, as Brandon’s dorky little sister, then … I don’t even know what to do with that.
Idoknow it means I cannot hold out any hope of my feelings being returned. Obviously.
“Can we forget this moment ever happened?” I ask.
Logan doesn’t answer. But he does get to his feet, offering me a hand. “Come on, Parker. Clearly, I need to help you up to your apartment. If you fall through doors so easily, no telling what will happen if you try to make it up the stairs alone.”
I’ve lost my shoe, and I just felt up Logan’s abs without consent. Not to mention the fact that I lied to my dad about Logan being my date.
I’m the hottest of hot messes. Ghost pepper level hot. Landfill level mess.
The same mess I’ve always been,I think miserably.That’s what Logan sees when he looks at me. A mess.
“I don’t need help,” I say, grabbing my keys for the upstairs door. “You can go back to your homecoming tour of town. But thank you!”
“Okay.”
Guilt spears me at the look on Logan’s face. All lightness fled at my dismissal, and he immediately starts to close off again, reverting to the distant version of him in the conference room.
“Logan.”
He stops at the sound of my voice, his hand on the knob. It takes a moment for him to swing his gaze my way.
“Stay.”
His brow furrows slightly, and my cheeks warm. I want to kick myself. The man probably gets a similar proposition at least once a week, but for way more than what I’m offering.
I shake the bag of groceries. “For dinner.”
Still, he hesitates. It shouldn’t be a big decision, but I can see how torn he is. As nervous as I am, wanting to smooth away his uncertainty pushes me forward.
“Remember my inability to so much as bake cookies without starting a fire?”
At this, Logan’s features soften ever so slightly. He chuckles. “I remember.”
“Well, come on then. I can’t be left unattended. I might burn down the building.”
I start up the stairs, heart thumping. Hoping Logan follows, just as nervous that he will. Me—alone with Logan in my apartment? The thought practically has my hands shaking.
