14. Chase #2
“Chase,” Logan says, glancing at me, then at Emily, then at our hands that just touched.
“Hi.”
I give him a wave, making no attempt to hide that I’m looking him up and down in his breezy white button-down.
“How are they?” Emily asks in a quiet tone, nodding toward the balcony.
Logan looks over at her, blinking. “Oh. They’re great,” he says, waving a hand through the air. “I think they’re going to say yes.”
“Knew they’d be interested if you were involved,” Emily says. “I’ll go chat with them about scheduling now.”
“Perfect.”
Emily quickly walks out onto the balcony and I’m left inside with Logan.
“You guys sound like you’re plotting something,” I tell him.
“Just trying to get a few actors interested in a small indie film I’m starring in soon. The director asked if I would meet with them, and… did you get a new tattoo?”
I nod, taking a few steps forward to show him.
The moth’s wings stretch all the way from the middle of my inner forearm down to below my wrist, the ends of the lines of ink trailing down onto the back of my hand and the first knuckle of my thumb.
“Got it almost a week ago,” I tell him.
“Did you draw that? It’s beautiful.”
“No. One of my friends from the art studio I share.” I walk over, plop down on the insanely comfortable couch and pat the cushion near me. “Come sit.”
He turns his head to the side, confused. “What?”
“Come sit here,” I tell him.
“Chase.”
“I know you’re busy. You always are. You don’t have to say it. I’m in the middle of my work shift, too, so it’s fine. Just come here for a second.”
He glances toward the balcony and then exhales, giving me a stern look. But he steps forward as I keep my gaze pinned on him and tries to sit down on the couch inches away from me.
But I’m armed with a secret, now.
Emily confirmed that Logan likes me. And it makes me feel a little giddy, in a silly way. It spurs me on to be as bossy as I want to be.
“Not there,” I tell him, gripping his waist from behind and pulling his body over toward me. “Here.”
He moves closer to me on the couch, so our thighs are touching, and finally I feel like I can relax a little.
“You okay with that?” I ask him.
“It’s fine.”
Fine.
Not exactly the most encouraging praise, but that's what he’s offering.
“You afraid of Emily seeing you sitting close to me? Because I don’t get the impression she’d give a damn.”
“No, I’m not afraid. Emily can see anything. I just don’t know what you’re going to do.”
“Not going to bend you over and fuck you, Logan. Just want to talk for a minute.”
“Sure.”
He seems so nervous.
Part of me likes it, and part of me wants to fuck with him, but I hold back.
“Have you thought about the nude photoshoot?” I ask him, trying not to sound like I’m pressuring him too much.
He shifts. “A little.”
“I’m still down, if you are.”
“Mm. I know you are.”
I cut him a glance. “Why do you say it like that?”
“I think you just want to do it so you have an excuse to see my dick.”
I cock my head to one side. “I love the idea of that, but I also have purely professional goals, Logan.”
“Of course, of course.”
I venture out, reaching to run my palm over his thigh and test the waters.
I see his eyes focusing on the fresh blue and black ink on my forearm. He doesn’t balk at the touch, though, and I’m glad because it helps me feel grounded, too.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask after a minute of silence. “I know we’re not lifelong friends or something, but you can tell me how your week has been.”
“My week’s been long.”
I expect him to continue. But when another silence stretches out to its breaking point and all we can hear is the laughter floating over from the balcony, I break it.
“You’re kind of impossible to read, Logan,” I tell him, bringing my hand away from his leg.
His eyes are serene as I look over at him, two stunning silvery jewels that don’t give me any better clue as to what he’s thinking.
“I’m just bad at talking sometimes,” he tells me.
“Okay. Well, if I’m making you uncomfortable, please say so?”
He lets out a long sigh, running his hands across his hair and then suddenly turning to face me. His eyes are wild, now, with a sudden intensity.
He speaks in a low tone.
“I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable, Chase.
When you touch me, I feel like I want to forget the rest of my life.
I wish I could sit here on the couch with you all day, and I’m kind of afraid I will make that choice, but I really do have a ton of things to take care of today. Understand?”
I recognize what he’s saying immediately.
He doesn’t want this to be like last year, and I can’t blame him for thinking it could be.
“I see.”
He swallows, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I don’t open up easily to very many people, and last year, I opened up more to you than just about anyone. It isn’t like you’re doing something wrong, Chase. I’m just… still remembering what it’s like to exist around you.”
My heart squeezes in my chest.
Because I do understand that. Down to the core of my being.
“You don’t have to say anything more,” I tell him softly. “It’s okay.”
I reach over a hand gingerly and place it on the small of his back. When he melts into the touch instead of recoiling, I let myself leave it there.
“How have you been, Chase?” he finally asks.
“Good. Other than the fact that I noticed you haven’t looked at my DMs from last night.”
He puffs out a small laugh. “Those apps really have to stop sharing what everyone views and doesn’t view.”
“I agree, actually. But… I still noticed.”
“I’ll read them,” he tells me. “I just have a lot of work stuff right now.”
I give his lower back a squeeze. “I messaged asking if you’d want to get dinner together.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” he says. “You want to order in and come back here tonight?”
“No. I meant out in the real world. At one of those restaurants with private booths, obviously, so you don’t get mobbed, but still. In the world. Because I have missed you this year, and I do think we could try to be real friends.”
“Chase,” he says in a warning tone.
“Logan,” I reply in an exaggerated, playful way.
“I’m just worried.”
I nod. “Because there are other actors out on the balcony?”
“Not just them.”
I cock my head to one side. “I’m not exactly afraid of paparazzi walking in on us in your private hotel room, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“But you should be afraid of crazy people online snapping pictures of us eating dinner. If we went to dinner.”