replaced by a dull, blank stare, and her hand lost its grip on mine. “Since a month after you came back.”
Eight months then. I felt a pang in my chest. “So, a long time, huh?” I squeezed her hand. “That’s great, Claire.”
“Oh, Taylor.”
I winced. Her pity slapped me in the face. “No, stop. I wasn’t really present even though I was here after it happened. I’m good. I mean it. I just wish I thought to ask you earlier than now.”
“You had other things going on.” Her fingers interlaced with mine. “And I’ve been a little absent this last week. I’m sorry.”
I waved off her apology. “Don’t worry. You and Jason checked in on me so much after I came back. I think I took you both for granted.” I moved to face her and squeezed both her hands. “I’m happy you have a guy to crush on, and I’m happy he kissed you tonight. I really am.”
Her eyes closed. A tear trekked down her cheek. This was how we used to share our secrets. If we were bursting with news, we’d link our hands together. The last time we stood like this was when my mom was buried. I cried that night, and Claire held my hands. Jason stood behind me, pressing his forehead into my back.
“Taylor—” she started.
I rocked my head back and forth. It was my turn to be there for her. “Nope. No apologies. I want to hear all about Ben.”
“I will tell you all about him, but not tonight.” Her hands grasped my arms, and she laughed, pretending to shake me. “What are you doing here?”
I opened my mouth, but it was then that I realized I really shouldn’t be there. They weren’t my crowd. An image of being at a certain bar, filling out an employment application flashed in my head. I didn’t want to think about that, but I knew this wasn’t right either. “You know, I’m actually going to go.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you later, though?”
“Sure. Yeah. Let’s do lunch.”
Lunch sounded great, and I slipped out of the apartment. Maybe I should’ve sought out Jeremy, said my goodbye, but as I headed down the sidewalk, my thoughts weren’t on my professor’s assistant. In fact, they were on someone that I really didn’t want to think about at all. So, of course, when I first heard him, I thought my mind was playing a trick on me.
Nearing my car, I pulled my keys out, and that was when I heard him again. “You were at that party?”
I stopped. Was it—yes, it was.
Logan Kade stood with his hands in his jeans pockets, looking back to where I’d just come from. When his eyes met mine, I saw a touch of hurt.
He added, “You’ve been avoiding me.”
THE BAD’S BACK
TAYLOR
“What are you doing here?”
Logan gestured to the side where a taco shop was. “It’s the closest one to school.” He twisted back around again and looked at the group on the steps. “Whose party was that?”
“No one’s.”
Then I heard my name being called. Jeremy was hurrying toward us. When he saw Logan, he paused a few feet away. I couldn’t help to compare the two. Logan was taller, leaner, and his shoulders were wider. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and with his hands in his pockets, his jeans slipped down to offer a peek at his obliques, the defined ridge where his stomach muscles and hips met in a downward V. It was tantalizing, a temptation I was already feeling. Though he was handsome, next to Logan, Jeremy looked drab in his jeans and polo shirt. He couldn’t compete.
Logan was confident, with a hint of darkness. Jeremy was academic, with a hint of snobbery.
“Jeremy,” I said. “You didn’t have to come after me.”
“Claire said you left…” He trailed off, glancing to the side at Logan.
Logan lifted an eyebrow and turned to sit on the trunk of the car next to him. He looked comfortable and almost carefree. I caught a spark of interest in his gaze and knew he was anything but, and his attention was fully directed at Jeremy.
“Hello.” Jeremy held out his hand. “You are?”
Logan looked at his hand, but made no move to shake it. He gave Jeremy a half-grin. “Like you don’t know who I am.”
A flush wound its way up Jeremy’s neck, reddening his cheeks. “You know Taylor?” He withdrew his hand, stuffing it into his pocket.