Page 28 of Anything but Mine

Zeke grinned and stood. “This beach bum just left the arms of a beautiful woman. I don’t think I can say the same for you. When’s the last time you actually slept?”

He looked down at his watch. “Pretty sure I got about four hours last night.”

“No, you smell like a bottle of whisky. I mean real sleep. Sober and in a bed.”

“Like your rum and tequila is any better?”

“We’re not talking about me. I only do that on special occasions.”

“What? Days that start with T and S?”

“Hey, that’s three days of rest for my liver, buddy.” Zeke held his hand out. “Up off the floor with you.”

Logan clasped his forearm and pushed up as Zeke pulled. Cody lumbered off the couch and leaned against his knee. He gave the dog a quick rub down with a return trip of a scratch. Then the dog happily bounded down the stairs.

“Good to see you, Z.”

“I was hoping for a better state of affairs after that call yesterday.”

He grunted as he padded down the hall to his room and the master bathroom. He brushed the funk out of his mouth and looked up to see Zeke’s face in his mirror. “What the hell? It’s not like I’m coming in here to slit my wrists.”

Zeke crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

“If you want a show, keep standing there. I’m taking a shower.”

Zeke rolled his eyes. “I’ll go make coffee and breakfast.”

With a wince, he slid his hand over his belly. “Just coffee for me.”

“Dude, you’ve lost at least ten pounds in the last month. You’re eating a skillet full of bacon.”

Logan tipped his head back then whipped his shirt off and threw it in the hamper. He looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t that skinny. A bit more defined than he’d been in years, but he didn’t look sickly.

Zeke was just being a mother hen.

Fifteen minutes later he was decidedly less beardy and much more clear-headed. He followed his nose downstairs to the breakfast production being held in his kitchen. Cody was sprawled on the tile floor, snoring softly. Zeke had three pans going on the stove, a pile of bacon, eggs, and what looked like a sweet potato hash.

“Hey, look at that. You don’t look like a grizzly bear anymore.”

“You should talk, fur face.”

“Ah, but I look good with it. You looked like my scary Uncle Mike.”

“Fuck off.” He filched a piece of bacon off the pile.

“So, tell me this trip into small town USA, earlier than expected, is worth it.”

“You get to spend my money for toys. Oh, speaking of toys. I got you something while I was in the city. I had a layover.”

Zeke clapped then rubbed his hands together. “A present? I love presents.”

Logan went through the living room into the music room and picked up the case sitting behind the piano. He came back into the kitchen and pulled two chairs together from the breakfast nook. “A little incentive to do rehearsal today.”

“Bribes are my favorite thing.” Zeke washed and dried his hands before coming around the island. “Oh, shit is that…?” He crouched in front of the guitar case, his hand at his mouth. “How?”

“I walked into this little hole in the wall guitar place in SoHo and there she was. I couldn’t fucking believe it.”

“Cherry, no less.”

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