Pulling out my phone, I bite the bullet, order a pair on Amazon, and slide it back into my jeans when the kitchen light flickers on.

“Hey, man.” Logan lifts his chin and grabs a beer from the fridge. “Want one?”

I shake my head, surprised to find him down here.

After popping the cap off with a bottle opener, he sits down on a barstool by the kitchen island and points toward the second floor, where a girl is chanting, “Yes. Yes. Yes!”

“Are my girls as loud as this?” he asks.

I chuckle and sit down next to him. “Sometimes worse.”

“Shit.” With another dry laugh, he swallows down some of his drink.

“Surprised you don’t have company tonight,” I add, cracking my knuckles and resting my hands on the cool granite.

He smirks back at me. “She had to go home early.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” I laugh. And it’s real. Because I don’t worry about how it might affect Ash anymore.

He dips his head in confirmation, taking another swig from the bottle.

“How’ve you been?” I ask. “I haven’t really seen you outside of practice.”

“Yeah. Been busy with my newfound freedom and shit.”

“Glad you’re staying busy.”

He nods and settles back into the barstool, stretching out his legs. “I never thanked you, by the way.”

“Thanked me?” I ask.

“For pushing me to tell Ash. It’s nice. Not sneaking around anymore,” he clarifies, lifting his almost empty drink in a cheers motion. “That shit can weigh a guy down.”

“I can imagine,” I mutter as he finishes his drink and sets it down on the counter. “Listen, I wanna talk to you about something.”

His brows raise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m dating Ash.”

His smirk slips, and he sits forward. “What?”

“I’m not telling you this to make you jealous or get your permission. But you’re still one of my best friends, even when you’re an ass,” I clarify, trying to lighten the mood. Sobering slightly, I add, “And you deserve to hear it from me.”

His eyes look almost hazy as he stands up, walks back to the fridge, and opens another beer. Quiet. Almost robotic. The refrigerator door closes softly as he turns around and faces me, his expression unreadable.

I don’t know what he’s thinking. What he’s feeling. But the silence is weighted. Heavy. Like a storm ready to break at any second. His jaw ticks as he avoids my gaze, drinks his beer in one go, and sets the empty bottle on the counter right next to the first.

Slow. Controlled. Deliberate.

“What about Mia?” Logan asks, his hollow voice breaking the silence.

“She and I broke up.”

“And she’s cool with you dating her friend?”

“Took it better than I ever would’ve expected,” I reply.

With a sharp nod, he clears his throat but doesn’t look at me. “Kind of an asshole thing to say. That you aren’t asking for my permission.”