“You sure took your time in the shower,” she commented on their way to the elevator at the end of the hall.
He’d been trying to pull himself together. He’d partially succeeded. He was pretty sure he could talk without stuttering now.
“I usually sleep in. Needed that shower to wake up.”
The elevator dinged and opened its doors as soon as he pushed the down button. He waited for her to enter the car before joining her.
“All that partying must be exhausting,” Mom said with a terse grin.
Dig number one. Not that he’d expected anything different from her usual disdain. Actually, that was a lie. He had thought things would be different for some stupid reason. When she’d appeared out of nowhere at his hotel room door and asked him to join her and Daniel for breakfast at a nostalgic diner across town, he’d thought maybe they were turning a page. That maybe he’d feel that sense of belonging he felt when he was with his band or with Toni, but nope, the woman was practically a stranger to him, no matter how much he wanted her love and acceptance.
“Yeah, it’s definitely the partying and not the constant travel that wears me out,” he said, slamming his finger into the button labeled Parking Garage.
“Daniel’s already at the diner holding a table for us, so we can’t dawdle. I hope you don’t mind the rush.”
Rushing to sit at a breakfast table with his absent mother and his apathetic brother? Why would he mind that? He couldn’t think of ten thousand places he’d rather be. Or maybe he could. And yet when he’d opened his hotel door to her anxious face that morning, he’d been so happy to see her, he’d nearly pissed himself.
“So what made you decide to come see me?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth behind her visit. He hoped she just wanted to see him because she loved him, but he doubted that was the case. She’d probably seen the tabloid article about his loveless childhood—he still couldn’t believe how much that article had exaggerated his misery—and was hoping to make amends. He supposed it wasn’t the end of the world that people thought he was a whiner if it prompted his mom’s sudden interest in him.
“You brother put me up to this,” she said, lowering her gaze. “He didn’t feel comfortable seeking you out on his own.”
Logan cocked an eyebrow at her. Why the hell would Daniel feel uncomfortable about having breakfast with him? They shared the same parents. For a good portion of their childhood, they’d even shared the same bedroom. Unless Daniel thought he had completely destroyed Logan’s life. If Daniel believed that overblown tabloid article, he probably thought Logan cried himself to sleep each night, longing for familial affection.
“My childhood wasn’t as bad as that article made it out to be,” Logan said.
Mom’s brows drew together. “What article would that be?”
“You’re not here because of the article?” Logan said as they stepped off the elevator in the parking garage.
“Apparently not.” Mom shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Forget I mentioned it,” Logan said, surprised by how much tension seeped from his muscles when he realized Mom and Daniel wanted to spend time with him not out of guilt, but genuine interest. He couldn’t help but smile at the insight.
Mom grinned at him as she opened the door of her late-model sedan. “Well, there’s that knockout smile of yours. You do look like your father.”
And maybe that was why his mom had all but deserted him as a child. His father wasn’t the kind of man who should have ever married and had kids. Logan wondered if he’d taken after the guy in more than looks.
As they drove across town, Mom pointed out new shops and restaurants that had replaced the ones he’d known in his youth. The diner where their short-lived happy family had breakfasted every Saturday had somehow managed to survive in a world full of fast food and coffee house chains. The remembered bell over the door jangled nostalgically as they entered. The décor had been updated from red vinyl to green vinyl, but most everything looked just as Logan remembered it: except his brother. Daniel was sitting in a corner booth shredding a paper napkin. Pasty-faced and gaunt, he’d aged at least ten years since Logan had last seen him. And was that a bald spot shining on top of Daniel’s head? Damn, he