The Mistake(89)

She spends a few minutes telling me about her drama courses and some parties she went to, but there’s a shadow in her eyes that concerns me. Her voice lacks the carefree pitch I’m used to hearing, and even her appearance feels a bit…off. Her eye makeup is thicker. Her top is tighter than usual, breasts practically hanging out of it. Awful as it sounds, she looks washed up and trashy. In the past, she could pull off trashy no problem and make it sexy, because she had the confidence to back it up. But right now, her swagger is noticeably absent.

The conversation switches to our families, and we end up staying at the Coffee Hut for another forty minutes, catching each other up on what our parents have been up to and laughing about their antics. When I announce I need to get to class, her smile fades, but she simply nods and stands up. We toss our empty cups in the waste bin, hug goodbye, and go our separate ways.

Watching her walk away, with her shoulders hunched and her hands in the pockets of her jeans, tugs at my heart. Am I a shitty friend for continuing to keep her at a distance? I honestly don’t know anymore.

I debate the issue as I walk along the cobblestone path toward the lecture hall of the film theory course I’m taking as an elective this semester. I’m climbing the steps of the ivy-covered building when my phone rings. It’s Logan.

I stifle a sigh as I press the button to answer, hoping he’s not calling to apologize again for yesterday’s coffee stunt. I still haven’t decided if his showing up during my study session with my psych partner was annoying, cute, or both. He ended up coming back later that night and we had a long talk about trusting each other, and I think we managed to reach an understanding about boundaries.

“Hey, gorgeous. Good, I caught you before you went into class.”

The sound of his husky voice makes me smile. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I wanted to run something by you. Turns out Dean and Tuck are going to a concert in Boston Saturday night and they decided to make a weekend out of it, getting a hotel room for a couple nights and all that. And Garrett is staying with Hannah until Sunday, so…”

He pauses, and I can practically envision the blush on his cheeks. One thing I never expected? Logan blushes when he’s nervous, and it’s frickin’ adorable.

“I thought maybe you’d want to spend the weekend with me.”

Excitement ripples through me. Nerves, too, but not a crazy amount. We’ve been an “official” couple for almost three weeks, and not once has Logan pushed me to have sex. He hasn’t even brought it up, actually, which I find both perplexing and reassuring.

And he’s quick to offer that reassurance again, adding, “No expectations, by the way. I’m not inviting you to, like, a three-day f*ck fest or anything.”

I snort. My boyfriend, ever the wordsmith.

“I’ll even throw out all the condoms in the house, if you want. You know, to eliminate temptation.”

I choke down a laugh. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

His voice thickens. “I just want to fall asleep with you. And wake up with you. And go down on you, if you’re in the mood for a John Logan orgasm.”

The laugh flies out, and he gives an answering one that slides into my ear and makes me light-headed.

“I would love to stay over this weekend,” I say firmly. “Oh. But I just remembered. I’m supposed to have dinner with my dad on Sunday night. Would you be able to drop me off at his house around six?”

“No problem.” There’s a beat. “You’re not going to tell him where you spent the weekend, are you?”

I blanch. “God. Of course not. I don’t want to give him a heart attack. He still tries to tie my shoelaces for me sometimes.”

Logan chuckles. “I’m hitting up the grocery store tomorrow. Is there anything special you want me to pick up? Snacks? Ice cream?

“Oooh, yes. Ice cream. Mint chocolate chip.”

“Done. Anything else?”

“No, but I’ll text you if I think of something.” My heart races faster than it should, considering we’re just talking about a weekend visit. It’s not like we’re eloping, for God’s sake. Yet my entire body is crackling with anticipation, because three uninterrupted days with Logan sounds like absolute heaven.

“So I’ll swing by and grab you after your last class tomorrow? You’re done around five, right?”

“Yep.”

“’Kay. I’ll text when I’m on my way. Later, gorgeous.”