Page 27 of My Song for You
“Jared plays with me, yes?”
“Yes, Jared is going to play with you.”
He grinned, and I could’ve sworn in that moment I’d never seen him look as happy as he did at that news. A pang in my heart warned me this was a bad idea, but I really didn’t have a choice.
—
At the sound of the man a few seats down coughing with that phlegmy noisy that always made my stomach churn, I subtly turned my body away from him and flipped the magazine page. A familiar model stared back at me, her makeup and glossy black hair making me feel grossly inadequate. Not that her micro-mini and sequined halter top helped much either. But even if she’d been wearing the same baggy jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt as me, she would have looked sexy.
She would have looked nothing like me.
But while Tiffany Grainger might’ve been a supermodel and might’ve had guys drooling over her, I had one thing she didn’t—Logan. Sure, she never had to worry about a guy turning his back on her because she had a child. But she also didn’t know how it felt to have a child love her like she was the most important thing in his world.
Too bad Logan was the only male who would ever look at me that way.
I closed the magazine and searched for one that wouldn’t remind me just how lonely I really was. Which meant no magazines with articles on finding Mr. Right or how to give Mr. Right an orgasm he’d never forget.
As I was deliberating whether it would be better to read the home-decorating magazine or the five-month-old issue ofSports Illustrated,Sharon walked over to me.
I stood up. “What did she say?”
“I have pneumonia.”
“Pneumonia?” I squeaked. “Will you be okay?”Of course, you idiot, she’ll be okay. She has pneumonia, not stage four lung cancer.
“I’ll be fine. She prescribed antibiotics and told me to rest until I’m feeling better.” She cringed at what that meant.
I gave her my most reassuring smile. Or at least I tried to. “Don’t worry. Logan will be fine. I’ll figure something out.”
I was completely, utterly screwed.
Chapter 11
Jared
When I was a little boy, I was a major book nerd. I couldn’t get enough picture books. Twice a week, Mom would take Kristen and me to the library so I could borrow new ones. A picture book had inspired me to want to learn to play the guitar.
Next to Logan on the couch, I pointed to the cat in his picture book. “What’s the sign for cat?”
He and I had been playing this game for the past ten minutes. I’d point to an animal on the page and he’d show me the sign for it. My sister had explained the importance of reading to young kids, but try telling that to her daughter. She hadn’t inherited my book-nerd gene. Emma never stayed still long enough to listen. Logan was the opposite. This was the third time I’d read him the story since Callie had left to take Sharon to her doctor’s appointment.
Logan pinched his thumb and index finger together and brushed them against his cheek.
“Is that like the cat’s whiskers?”
He nodded. “Cat whiskers.”
“Do you like cats?”
“I want dog.”
“Can you say ‘I wantadog’?” I felt like an idiot correcting him, but figured Callie would’ve done it if she were here. Besides, Logan didn’t seem bothered by having to repeat the sentence. He was used to it.
“You want a dog too? Can I see it?”
I laughed. “No, I’m not getting a dog. My apartment building won’t allow it. And who would look after it while I’m on tour?”
He grinned. “Me!”
