I drop my hands to my knees and do some deep breathing.“Grandma,”I whisper in horror. I’m scarred for life.
“Kids? Did I hear screaming?” Grandma calls from below.
I blow out a breath. “We’re okay,” I say. “I just saw…a mouse.”
“A mouse! I thought we’d finally gotten those things under control. Logan, I’m going to need your father to come back out here with more traps.”
“Uh…” Logan walks over to the ladder. “Actually, I don’t think it was a mouse. Quinn thought she saw something and freaked herself out. She’s very sensitive.”
I glare at him. “Just a false alarm,” I call to her.
“Keep an eye out anyway,” Grandma replies. “And I’ve got cake down here for when you’re done.”
He turns back to me with a smile. “Another false alarm—you seem to keep having those around me. Speaking of, did you ever figure out the reason you were so unsteady thatday?”
The teasing shine in his eyes makes my heart thump.
“No, I did not, but I’m feeling perfectly steady right now, thank you.”
Luckily, he doesn’t push the subject and we work a bit more in silence before he asks how my day was. I grimace at the reminder.
“It’s a work in progress,” I reply. “Turns out that switching schools in the middle of the year isn’t easy.”
“Never would have predicted that.” He pulls another box in front of him. “I’m sure it’s hard leaving all your old friends behind.”
A heavy weight presses on me at the reminder. I shake my head. “Actually, that was probably the best thing about the move.”
“Leaving your friends?” he asks incredulously.
“I think it’d be more accurate to describe them as ex-friends.”
Logan’s kneeling on the ground, going through anotherbox, but he swivels toward me at the words. “Were these the people you played D&D with?”
“Yeah. It was a two-for-one loss—no more friends and no more gaming group. So I’m grateful to be in Laurelburg regardless of issues.”
I expect him to ask for details about what happened, or to look uneasy at the knowledge that my last D&D group disowned me. That’s not the kind of thing that inspires confidence when you’ve just added someone to your game—especially if you weren’t happy about including them in the first place. But Logan only frowns in sympathy.
“That’s horrible. I’m sure whatever happened, it was their fault.”
I laugh in surprise. “That’s very loyal of you to say, given that you barely know me.”
“I know you. You like sugary foods and the color green and D&D.”
I push a box away (it’s just old sheets) and look at the next one. “You’ve summed me up.”
“And you love your grandmother. Enough to spend your afternoon going through her unmentionables with a guy you don’t particularly like because she asked you to.”
My eyes flick up to his.
“She clearly loves you too,” he continues, “which means you must be a pretty great person, because I don’t think she’s impressed with just anyone. So, yeah, if they couldn’t keep you as a friend, then that says more about them than it says about you.”
I turn away from the boxes and study him. Really study him, in a way I haven’t allowed myself to before. His expressionis open, without a hint of sarcasm or snark. He pushes his hair away from his forehead and leans forward just slightly, easily meeting my gaze. There’s no challenge in his eyes, and it makes me want to tell him everything that happened with Caden, Paige, and the others. It would be nice to tell someone the story without worrying about their judgment. But there’s a lot more I need to understand about him before I’ll trust him with that information.
“Logan, why did you come here today?” I pull my knees to my chest and rest my chin on them. “And don’t bring up Grandma. Why did youreallycome here? Because I can’t figure you out. You were so nice when we first met and then I joined the game and you turned into a totally different person.”
“That’s because I didn’t want you to join.” His gaze turns so intense that it’s like a tractor beam, freezing me in place. He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs. “I hoped you would change your mind, and when you didn’t, I decided the only way forward was to be as cold and distant to you as possible.”
“Why?” I whisper.