Page 73 of Two Sticky Nuts

I don’t bother turning around to reply. Screw her. Screw Carter. Screw these Gusano guys.

CHAPTER THIRTY

This time, Logan and I are seated together in first class. Mostly because there were no other seats available, and I wasn’t about to spend eight hundred dollars on a one-way ticket to Dallas. Logan apparently flies a lot and was able to get some sort of last-minute special fare with his miles.

“Thanks again,” I say, downing my third glass of champagne.

“You might want to take it easy on the bubbles.”

“No way.” I press the overhead button to get the flight attendant’s attention. Once I do, I point to my glass for a refill. “You know, it’s funny because this is exactly where it all started.”

“You getting hammered on cheap champagne?” he says.

“Yes. And no. Sofie was given a free trip for two to Jamaica. First-class seats.” I wiggle my toes. “I still want one of these chairs in my living room.”

“An airline chair?” Logan shakes his head. “Trust me, there are far more comfortable armchairs on the market. I’d know. I have a home theater. Came with the house.”

I look at him and narrow my eyes.

“What?” he says defensively.

“It kills me how I busted my ass working a respectable, normal job, yet basically everyone I know who’s working in the fringe is crushin’ it.”

“Well, you’re not a risk taker. Not until today, anyway,” Logan says.

“That wasn’t me taking risks.”

“I saw you do some pretty stupid stuff today,” he says.

“Don’t call me stupid.”Again.

“I’m not,” he says sternly. “I’m merely pointing out that you jumped without any sort of parachute to save your friend today. You could’ve gotten us both killed.”

“Yeah, well, luckily for us it only turned out to be Carter’s version ofPranksters. But you’re wrong about me. I’m a problem solver. It’s what I do best.”

“You call it solving problems. I call it going all in to help another person.”

I shrug. “What’s your point? They played us. They made us look like idiots.”

“Maybe we use different terms to define ourselves, but at the end of the day, we have something in common: we’re willing to put everything on the line to help the people we care about, regardless of if they deserve it.”

Logan turns his head and stares down with those penetrating eyes. The look of affection and desire punches through the fragile veneer protecting my heart.

I still feel him, feel theitbetween us.

“Logan, there’s something I need to say.”

“All right.”

“I hate your brother. I mean, I look at him, and I don’t see even a sliver of you. He’s like…the devil, and I want to run him over with my car or maybe a large piece of industrial farming equipment. I want to squeeze his neck, watch him turn blue, and then piss on his grave. That’s how much I hate him.”

Logan frowns. “Harsh. And a teensy graphic. But, okay, I get it.”

I go on, “And I’m telling you this because I sort of agree with him, even if it kills me to say it. I see our connection. But I also see the connection between you two. You and he are always going to be in each other’s lives, even if you don’t speak for five years. That bond will always be there.”

Logan toggles his head, not conceding agreement. “And?”

“And I want nothing to do with that nut.”

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