Page 51 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

“Yes, I know it’s raining, and I’m seriously sorry. Did you try Mia?” he asks.

Silence.

“Yeah, it sucks. But like I said, I’m working too.” Logan sighs. “Call an Uber, all right? I’ll help with your car in the morning.”

I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. It’s a dick thing to do. But he’s full of shit. He isn’t at work. Ashlyn’s right, though. Mia’s working tonight. I was heading to SeaBird right now to keep an eye on her. But why would Ash need to call an Uber?

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you in the morning,” Logan adds.

Stepping into view, I lean my shoulder against the doorjamb and scratch my jaw. Logan’s sitting on his bed in a button-up shirt, his ankle resting on his opposite knee as he ends the call and tosses his phone onto his bed.

He hasn’t noticed me yet.

“You’re not at work,” I point out.

He looks up at me, surprised. “Shit, man. You scared me.”

“You’re not at work,” I repeat.

His brows furrow. “Were you eavesdropping?”

Realizing what’s going on, I clench my jaw and try to stay calm. “You told me you were gonna cut the shit with Ash.”

“And I have.”

“Bullshit,” I spit.

He stands from the side of the bed and tucks his phone into his pocket. “Why do you even care?”

“Because I have a little sister,” I argue. “And if I ever found out she was dating an asshole like you, I’d beat the shit out of him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not dating Blakely, isn’t it?”

Scratching the scruff of my jaw, I push myself away from the doorway and stalk closer to him, my blood beginning to boil. “Where is she?”

“Who? Ash?” he asks, surprised.

“Yeah. Where is she?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re making it my business by refusing to pick her up. It’s almost ten at night, and it's pouring rain outside, asshole.”

“Look, she’s not far. She’s right by SeaBird, and I told her to hire an Uber. I’m even gonna Venmo her––”

“It’s no excuse, Logan,” I grit out. “You’re leaving your girlfriend to fend for herself so you can wet your dick with someone else.”

“I told you, I have work,” he argues.

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I yank him closer to me. “It’s bullshit, and you know it. If you had a shift at the restaurant tonight, you’d already be there.”

“You don’t know––”

“I do know. And I know you, too, you lying sack of shit. I’m not going to sit by and watch you lead her on. She deserves better than this, and you know it.” I let him go, and he collapses back onto the bed like a sack of worthless potatoes. “You have one week to tell her. If you don’t, I will.”

My feet feel as if heavy with lead as I storm out of his room without waiting for his response, afraid I’ll lose my self-control and beat the shit out of him if he has a chance to open his mouth.

Fucking asshole.

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