The What If Guy - Lauren Blakely Page 0,54

She was legit crazy. Bipolar.” Every ex he had was crazy. That should have been a tip-off, I suppose. What about you?

Logan: I don’t know, actually. My ex didn’t have a lot of exes. I met her freshman year of college.

I sit up, surprised at his statement, because that’s such a long time to be with someone. But the water is cooling, and I need to eject from the tub. I write back, wanting him to know I’m still here, I’m still on the other end.

Bryn: Hold on a second, getting out of the tub . . .

Logan: Feel free to send a pic.

After I step out and grab a towel to dry off, I snap a shot of my calves and send it to him, a buzz of excitement winding through me. Talking to him, texting him, warms me up. It makes me happy. I put down the phone for a minute to slather on lotion, then I wrap the towel over my breasts, pull the plug on the tub, grab my wine and phone, and head to my bedroom, where I curl up on the ruby-red comforter and pull a soft silvery fleece blanket over me. I drop the towel to the floor.

When I open the thread again, Logan has replied with one word.

Logan: Gorgeous.

Bryn: Thank you. I’m now snuggling under the covers on my bed. Here’s my view.

I snap a pic of the bottom half of my bed, lifting up the bottom edge of the soft cover just enough to see Bruce’s handsome face. He opens one eye, then closes it. Sleep is far more interesting than I am.

Logan: I see you have company.

Bryn: Lately, he’s been joining me at night.

Logan: He didn’t used to?

Bryn: No. He was distant. He slept in his cat bed.

Logan: Maybe he’s falling for you.

Bryn: Or maybe he senses that I’m in a good mood tonight, and he wants to be near it.

Logan: I’m jealous of your cat. Also, your bed looks like it belongs to you. It’s very . . . lush. A bit decadent.

Bryn: Funny, I just realized you didn’t actually see it when you were here. Yes, it’s ridiculously full of throw pillows and pretty blankets. Feel free to send a shot of, say, your hand. Also, college sweethearts is so . . . wow.

Logan: Yeah, I suppose it is. We were together for a while. And here’s my hand.

As the image comes through, I grin, savoring the view of one strong, firm hand, remembering how both felt on my body, around my waist, gripping my hips.

Bryn: And THANK YOU. Your hands belong in a hand-porn contest.

Logan: And I am sure that’s a thing. Anyway . . . I think your mom’s advice is right. About exes and such.

Bryn: She was pretty wise. Are your parents around? Together?

Logan: Yes, healthy and happily married. Ridiculously so. My dad is a consultant, and my mom helped build his business. They’re one of those couples who still like each other after all these years. They kiss at barbecues and give each other a hard time with teasing and jokes, but he’s always touching her, and she rubs his shoulders, and it’s kind of awesome and weird at the same time. It’s only weird because they’re my parents. Mostly it’s awesome.

Bryn: That sounds exactly as it should be. I love that. I’m grinning like crazy, and I don’t think it’s the wine.

Logan: Wine and stories of happily-married-for-more-than-thirty-five-years couples can do that to a person.

Bryn: Are you close with them?

Logan: Yes. They live in Connecticut. I see them a lot. Amelia and I go there twice a month usually, and they also come into the city and we have family dinners with my sister. She’s the advice purveyor in the family.

Bryn: Best advice she’s ever given you?

Logan: This is a direct quote from Summer: Treat a woman like you treat your sister. Except don’t put a frog in her bed like I did to you.

Bryn: She put a frog in your bed???

Logan: Such a meanie, right?

Bryn: I love her already.

Logan: You would. I love her a lot. She’s outgoing and positive and funny and giving. She gives her whole heart to everything and everyone.

Bryn: I always wanted to have a sibling. Never did. Obviously.

Logan: I have to ask—is your dad out of the picture?

Without any tears or sadness, only years of reality, I insert a GIF of a plane.

Bryn: He took off long ago. Never knew him. Never felt I needed to. It was