Page 64 of What It Means To Be Found

“That just means men like Logan and I have to lead by example,” said Josh. The rockstar rested his chin on top of Courtney’s head, looking at me intently, “It’s up to us to listen, to learn, and to correct our expectations and behaviors.”

I blinked at him, suspicion clawing at me when he narrowed his eyes a little and winked at me again. He was clearly trying to tell me something subtly, and as far as I knew he hadn’t told Courtney about my attraction toward Eloise.

He also didn’t know that Eloise and I had slept together, but that was neither here nor there.

But his words made me consider myself. My entire existence.

Conversation continued around me, but I pulled out my phone and started researching the topic a bit more. Josh was right, I was given the information. Now it was up to me to decide how to act going forward.

18

ELOISE

“Can I get you anything?” Susan asked, tucking the throw blanket over my feet on the couch. I only took up about half of it because I was curled into a ball on my side. We had just spent the last hour and a half watching a movie, and I was already feeling guilty that she stayed up later than usual to fuss over me. She didn’t normally like to stay up late, but she knew how much pain I was in today. And she didn’t want me to feel alone while everyone else met up at the new bar Taylor wanted to check out.

“I’m good, thank you though,” I smiled up at her, blatantly ignoring the sharp jab of pain I randomly felt in my butthole. It was the worst day, and I was just desperate for it to be over. It’s one thing to feel cramps in my uterus, but why the fuck did my body feel the need to cramp so hard that I felt like I had sat on a knife? This was just ridiculous.

“Holler if you change your mind,” Susan brushed some hair off of my forehead and grinned before she stood up and shuffled her way towards her bedroom. Right as she started crossing the entryway, there was a knock on the door.

We both looked at each other, confirming that neither of us was expecting anybody before she shifted over to the front door and peered through the peep pole. Susan chuckled, before opening the door wide enough to show me who was at our home at ten thirty at night.

Logan, in all his physically fit glory, stood on the doorstep.

He was supposed to be at the bar with everyone else, but instead, he was here. Holding a plastic bag from somewhere.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Susan asked, stepping aside, and inviting him in. I was frozen. I stayed curled up under my blanket and just gaped at him. Why was he here? Before Logan could sign anything, Susan tugged on the mouth of the plastic bag he held in one hand and peered inside. Logan then opened the bag all the way for her to see, and the grin that spread across her face was full of mischievousness.

“She’s all yours,” Susan nodded towards me, making Logan’s dark eyes meet mine across the open concept space. I felt my heart flutter in my chest when he finally looked at me, and I felt myself shrinking into the couch and tugging the blanket tighter around my neck.

Logan shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes, setting them to the side where our guests usually kept their shoes and nodded politely at Susan as she turned to continue her way to her bedroom. Logan strode into the living room, coming to sit directly next to my feet on the couch.

“What’s up?” I asked him, his face searching mine in silence. He didn’t lift his hands to sign anything, he just stared at me, at my curled-up form under a throw blanket. His gaze flicked to the ibuprofen bottle on the coffee table and rested a hand on my ankle over the blanket before lifting his bag with the other.

“What is that?” I asked, struggling to keep my body still from his touch. The ache in my abdomen made me both want to lean into his touch and pull away.

Logan removed his hand from me before he dug around in the bag to start pulling items out of it. He set everything on the coffee table gently, nothing but the sounds of the movie playing in the room as he showed off his loot.

Double-Stuf Oreos.

Orange Gatorade.

Cool Ranch Doritos.

Popcorn.

Midol.

Extra-Strength Tylenol.

And gummies.

My heart twisted in my chest, and it was a struggle to breathe evenly.

“You got me weed?” I asked, eyeballing the gummies. Logan shrugged, before taking my legs that were still tucked under the blanket and lifting them up so that he could slide underneath. I shifted so that I was no longer on my side, but instead on my back with my legs resting over his thighs.

Through the blanket, he gently started rubbing my legs, before pausing and pulling his phone out from his pocket. He thumbed away at it while I just stared at him. His hard profile, his scars on his skin, his curly brown hair that he tamed with some type of product. The cream-colored button-down shirt he wore with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the forearm porn I was witnessing as he typed away on his phone.

Maybe it was just because I was on my period and hormonal, but Logan looked mouthwatering tonight.

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