Page 14 of The Rom-Commers

Logan glanced over. “You look a little green,” he said.

“I’m out of practice with adventure,” I said. “And you’re a terrible driver.”

“Being a terrible driver is a power move,” Logan said. Then, from his place of power, he added, “Do you want some advice?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t sleep with Charlie.”

“Don’tsleepwithCharlie?!” I shrieked, like the idea had never crossed my mind.

“I know you have a writer crush,” Logan said. “But keep it at that.”

“Are you insane?”

“You’ve got a photo of him on your bulletin board.”

“I’ve got a photo of Kurt Vonnegut on my bulletin board, too.”

“I’m not concerned about Vonnegut.”

“Yeah. Since he’sdead.”

“Since you’re notmoving into his house.”

“Well, whose fault is that?”

“I’m veryprothe professional partnership,” Logan clarified. “But I’m veryantianything more.”

“Why are we even having this conversation?”

“You’re lonely. He’s lonely. It’s like an incubator for fornicating.”

“You’re the one who set this up. I’d be perfectly happy to stay literally anywhere else.”

“You’ll write better in the house,” Logan said.

I gave him a look. “As long as I don’tfornicate,” I added.

“Exactly!”

I was still a little motion-sick from the turbulence we hit during landing—and Logan’s NASCAR-inspired driving wasn’t helping. I hadn’t eaten all day—or yesterday, for that matter—and I hadn’t slept well the night before. I still had that heart-thumping thing going on inside my rib cage. Needless to say, this little fornication-themed heart-to-heart wasn’t helping.

“All I’m saying,” Logan said, “is don’t even think about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it—until you got me thinking about it. Now I’m thinking about it.”

“Stop complaining,” Logan said. “I’m helping you.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“It’s better if you’re prepared,” Logan said.

“Maybe you should stop talking now.”

But Logan went on. “He’s terrible in relationships! Why do you think his wife left him?”

He had me. “Why?”

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