This might get worse than I imagined. “Logan.” I caught the glare he sent to Jackson. “This is not that.”

“Yeah, not giving a shit what it doesn’t look like. I’m giving a shit about what it does look like.” Turning so he was facing Jackson squarely, he narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Jac—”

“I know your name, Jackass. I’m asking who you think you are.” He moved a step closer, his eyes narrowed into slits. “She’s dating my brother. Don’t come here and take advantage of her because she’s nice and lonely.”

Heat surged to my cheeks, and my head went down. Lonely? I was missing Mason, but to hear it said out loud was embarrassing.

“I wasn’t. I didn’t.” Jackson shifted towards me. “Sam?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t told Mason yet, and I wasn’t going to tell Logan first. “Stop it, Logan. I told you last night. I know Jackson. We were talking about Jeff. My ex. His cousin. Remember him? He worshiped you last year.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. When he shot me a look, I knew he was saving it for when Jackson left. I sighed on the inside. Oh joy for that conversation. As if sensing the same thing, Jackson said, “Well. I suppose I should go. It was nice running into you, Sam.” He jerked his head in a nod. “Kade.”

“Jackass.” Logan nodded back, his reply monotone.

Pausing, Jackson glanced back at me, then pressed his mouth in a flat line and lifted his hand in a small wave. “See ya, Sam.”

We waited as he went to his car and pulled out of the lot. As soon as it turned onto the road, Logan gave me an incredulous look. “Sam? What the fuck?”

“We have history.” I shut him up with that.

“What?”

I cursed at myself. Why had I said that? “Look, he was nice to me one night when Jeff was being his usual asshole self. You don’t have to worry about anything. Trust me. I’m not even friends with him, but I’m not going to ignore him.”

He snorted. “You’ve been smelling Malinda’s perfume too much. It’s gotten in your head if you think that guy doesn’t want, at least, friendship.” He pointed to where Jackson left. “He wants way more than friendship.”

“Logan,” I didn’t want to argue, “what are you doing here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Okay. That’s my cue to let it drop, but I’m telling you. That guy’s going to be ‘around’ a lot more than you think.” He lifted his fingers to form quotations in the air. “And I know the dude knew you worked today. Mark told me he was asking about you at the party last night.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He gestured to Manny’s. “I came to hackle you while you worked. You’re not working?”

“They don’t need me today.”

“I see. Is Jax in there?”

I shook my head. “She’s with Channing.” And because I remembered that I hadn’t squared things away from last night, I added, “Hey, don’t give her a hard time the next time you see her.”

“What do you mean?”

“About last night. She was stalling you. I wanted to talk to Jack—”

“Jackass.”

I kept going, “—son last night. She doesn’t have a problem with Kris. She was just having my back last night.”

I expected a smartass response back, something derogatory about Heather, or maybe a cocky remark about Kris. I got silence instead. “What’s wrong?”

Logan continued to stare at me, long and hard. He was dressed in a long-sleeve shirt. A slight breeze sped past us, plastering his shirt against his torso, but he didn’t move. He continued to stare at me. His dark hair moved in the sudden rush of air. He kept staring. His hands slid back into his jean pockets, outlining his lean frame and broad shoulders.

“Logan?”

He murmured, his voice low and grave, “There’s about three things wrong with your last statement.”

My mouth went dry. Oh shit.

He moved closer one step. His hands remained in his pockets, and he looked down his nose at me. He would’ve been intimidating to anyone else. I wasn’t anyone else. I was family. Holding my breath, I waited to see what he was going to throw at me.

He lifted a finger. “One. You lied to me.”

“I didn’t.”

A second finger uncurled up. “Two. You had someone else lie to me.”

I kept quiet and just waited for him to finish.

A third finger. “Three. Someone else was in the know, not me.”

“Logan—”

“Not me,” he repeated, a flash of anger filling his eyes. “Not me, Sam. You put Heather above me. We’re family. You shouldn’t put anyone above me except Mason.” He shook his head, so slowly. “I know you’re dealing with something, and I’ve tried being patient. Mase keeps telling me to be patient, but it’s starting to piss me off. If we’re no longer family, maybe you should let me fucking know.”

“Logan—” The word cut off in my throat. He shook his head and turned away. “Logan.”

Instead of answering, he went to his Escalade.

“Logan!”

He didn’t answer. He got inside and pulled out of the parking lot within seconds.

Well…fuck me.

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