The Conundrum of Collies (Love & Pets #6) - A.G. Henley Page 0,26
fiercely.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into his chest.
Logan has a very nicely toned chest. I’m trying to ignore that fact as my face is pressed against it with merely his thin white cotton T-shirt between us. He squeezes my shoulder. His way of telling me it’s okay.
“I don’t deserve you as a bestie,” I say.
“I know.”
I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t, so I poke him hard in the ribs. He yelps, puts me in a neck hold, and rubs his knuckles against my scalp, something he’s done since we were kids arguing in the backyard.
“Stop!” I yell. He does, and I push him away. “Jerk.” I don’t mean it and he knows it.
“Room done?” He restarts his game.
I nod. “I was going to do the whole house by the time you got home, surprise you, but . . .” My voice trails off. I don’t have to explain, not to him.
“Why wouldn’t you let me help?” He sounds hurt.
“Because, Logan, I’m almost thirty years old. I should be able to handle cleaning my room by now. Shouldn’t I? I mean, seriously. Shouldn’t I?” I swallow hard. “Number six on my bucket list is to clean the whole house and keep it organized. I can’t even clean my own room. What’s wrong with me?”
Logan listens quietly, his face grave, then squeezes me again. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Stevie. Nothing at all.”
He’s lying, but for once, I don’t argue. It’s not his problem to figure out. It’s mine.
And I swear I’ll do it.
Chapter Twelve
Logan
Despite my overwhelming desire not to see Stevie on what sounds suspiciously like a date with Jude, somehow, I’m still walking to the zoo with her on Saturday evening.
First, I don’t like zoos that much.
Second, I don’t like Jude that much. Okay, that’s not fair. Jude’s fine. The problem is that Stevie seems to like him too much.
And third, I’m not interested in Emmy or vice versa, as far as I can tell. Any Emmy-Logan pairing seems to be a figment of Stevie’s well-developed imagination.
I rub my face. This zoo date is exhausting, and we aren’t even through the gates and smelling the exquisite fragrance of animal dung yet.
“What?” Stevie asks.
“What?” I look at her.
“Why did you rub your face and groan?”
Crap. I didn’t know I’d groaned. I glance around looking for a groan-inducing excuse and spot a car in the zoo parking lot that we’re passing. “That, uh, Mercedes has really cheesy rims.”
“Rims?” She eyes me.
Did I use the right word? I’m not exactly a car guy. Aren’t the things inside the tires called rims?
“Yeah, the rims.” I point at the offensive car, which, now that I look more closely, has perfectly normal rims as far as I can tell. “Why?”
“I’ve never heard you use a word like rims. You aren’t a car guy.”
Exactly. Luckily, she’s even less of a car girl. “Anyway, what are we doing at the zoo again?”
“Meeting Emmy and Jude.”
“But, then what? Walk around, look at animals . . . flirt?” I can’t resist throwing that in.
Stevie shades her eyes and looks up at me. “Why? Planning on doing a lot of that with Emmy?”
No! I want to yell. But of course, I don’t. After a long look at my flat expression, she answers, “It’s Safari Sunsets tonight. The zoo is open until nine and it’s adults only. Which means no to kids or families and yes to adult bevvies.”
I nod. “I was wondering if we’d be overrun by ankle biters.”
She snorts. “Ankle biters?”
“You’ve never heard that term? It means kids.” Not that I mind them, but the zoo has more kids than animals most days.
“No ankle biters. It’ll be a chill evening checking out the zoo animals while sipping a frosty drink. It’s going to be amazing.”
I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses. Whatever she says. We’re nearing the entrance. Vegetation lines the other side of the fence around the property so that you can’t get a free peek inside. Not that you’d see animals, anyway. It’s more likely to be the workers and the backs of the animal habitats.
We pass the fancy souvenir shop guarded over by giant metal statues of a giraffe family, and then Stevie points to the admission gate where Emmy and Jude wait. “There they are.”
My gut clenches when I see Jude’s wide smile for Stevie.
“Hey!” Stevie hugs Emmy and—I almost choke—kisses Jude on the cheek. He looks disgustingly happy about it, too. I know she’s been texting with both of them, but how much