Chapter 11 #2
His teeth scrape over his lower lip for a moment, and the slightest hint of color infuses his cheeks. It’s only then that I realize, far too late, what idiotic sentiment just left my mouth, and I’m left rushing to amend it.
“Not that I’m trying to fuck you. I mean, I would, don’t get me wrong. It just wasn’t something I thought about. Like, I didn’t even know you were bi until you kissed me and came up with this whole scheme, so…”
Wow, way to sound like even more of an imbecile, Cam.
Logan’s cheeks pinken even more, and he clears his throat.
“I, uh… Don’t worry, I knew what you meant,” he says tightly, the words still coming out a little choked. “And the whole bi thing… I don’t know. I guess who I sleep with isn’t something I feel the need to broadcast, unlike some people I know.”
My lips curl into a smirk, knowing damn well the dig was aimed at me. I don’t mind, under these circumstances, though. The shift to playful teasing actually alleviates some of the tension thickening the air in the kitchen, which I’m grateful for after making a goddamn fool of myself just now.
“Still trying to slut shame me, I see,” I toss back, easing into the banter with him. “But for your information, I’m not bi. I’m pan.”
“Isn’t that basically the same thing?”
“They’re similar, but again, in the way of, like, squares and rectangles and shit.”
Arching a brow, he laughs out a sharp, “What?”
I tip my head back and forth, looking for the best way to explain my knowledge on the subject. Which may be rather limited, seeing as I can only speak from my own experience, but it’s better than nothing.
“So I guess the main difference of being a pansexual—and this is just my takeaway—is I don’t really have preferences when it comes to my partners.
I’m attracted to what’s inside the package,” I say, gesturing to the length of his body before motioning to his crotch, hidden behind the counter. “Not just that package.”
“How eloquently put,” he teases, and I chuckle.
“Crass as it may be, I give more of a shit about what’s in your chest than in your pants. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to get well acquainted with both.” I wink before adding, “Consensually, of course.”
His eyes roll before he offers a dry, “Don’t hold your breath.”
“Oh, I know. I’d probably die waiting.”
“Then I’d be free of you, and that would just be a shame,” he drawls slowly, voice dripping with sarcasm. But despite the little smirk tugging at his lips, I can’t help but feel a little pang of disappointment.
It’s not about the whole no sex rule of our deal—I understand that part completely.
It’s how, every time we make a little headway toward actual friendship, he pumps the brakes.
Like he refuses to lean into the idea of becoming real, true friends, so he shifts the banter a little too close to how it was before.
It’s a pattern I’ve noticed, and what usually follows is him pulling back into the comfort of his grumpy, hard shell. Where it’s safe.
And it sucks, because it doesn’t have to be that way.
“I knew there’d be someone who could resist my charm one day. Just a pity it had to be you.”
The words spill out of their own volition, and I don’t know who is more shocked by it. From the way Logan’s brows hitch up, it might be him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Fuck if I even know.
“Nothing, Little Reed.” I pause as a completely different realization slams into me hard enough, it makes me nauseous. “Wait, did you say you don’t broadcast your sexuality?”
He nods, and I swear to God, it takes every bit of my self-control not to vomit as the next words leave my mouth.
“Please don’t tell me I accidentally outed you when I said we were dating,” I say in a rush.
“No, I would’ve told you if that were an issue.”
I’m swept up by a wave of relief, and I sigh, closing my eyes for a brief second. “Well, that’s good. Because I literally did broadcast it for all of the world and internet to see.”
Lifting my lids, I catch his lips twitch as he fights another smile.
“No, it just kinda goes back to all that shit with Oakley. With our age difference, he obviously had a bit more time to figure out his sexuality. He told my parents he was gay long before I had any interest in dating and sex, let alone figured out I was bi. So by then, it just felt so fucking…” He trails off and shakes his head.
“I don’t know. It sounds stupid, but it’s almost like I was still in his shadow even with that.
Not good enough to be completely gay, so I only made it halfway there. ”
I frown. “You know that’s not a thing, right?”
“Obviously, but…”
He doesn’t continue, but I’m able to fill in the pieces myself pretty easily.
But knowing that doesn’t stop the feeling from being there either.
The silence lingers, speaking more than words ever could, and the two of us don’t do much to break it. In fact, I’m about to head back upstairs, feeling the conversation is now over, when Logan decides to slice through it.
“Sorry for off-loading all that on you,” he murmurs, and I shake my head.
“Don’t be. I asked.”
One of his brows lifts dubiously. “You asked about hockey, and I basically trauma-dumped my entire childhood at your feet.”
“Trauma-dump or not, thank you. For sharing that with me, I mean.”
In truth, I couldn’t care less about what Logan’s sharing with me—the fact that he’s sharing anything is a miracle in itself.
This is the most he’s given me of himself or his upbringing.
Until now, it’s been mostly one-sided. But him choosing this to share with me, and seeing the similarities in how we were raised—the black sheep who doesn’t quite belong—I feel a new sense of kinship with him.
I just hope he feels it too; then maybe he’d lean into it rather than fighting it at every turn.
Or maybe I need to give him a reason to.
Shifting my weight off the counter, I drum my fingers on the cool surface, ready to make him another offer. “Tell you what. A bunch of guys from the team are going to this award thing—”
“Really?” he cuts in, looking up from his coffee.
“Uh, yeah. Your uncle is our coach, and both he and your dad attended Leighton. It’s a way of honoring their leg—” I cut myself short, realizing what I was about to say.
Though, to my surprise, Logan lets out a sharp laugh.
“It’s fine. I’m not gonna be triggered by you saying the word.”
I arch a brow, as if to ask, are you sure? Which, to my pleasant surprise, earns me the smallest hint of a smile.
“Okay, so, you’re going to this thing too…” he prompts, waiting for me to finish my original point.
“I was going to suggest we go together instead. I can attempt to be a buffer, and it gives us a chance to put this fake relationship to the test. If you’re up for it,” I say, tacking on the easy out for him.
It’s one I fully expect him to take by turning me down flat, or maybe brushing it off the same way he did with my offer to go to New York. I swear he’s attempting to find the right way to do just that as he stares absently at the wall, gnawing at his lower lip.
But then, shockingly he nods a few times and drags his attention back to me.
“Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”
I grin, feeling far more excitement than I probably should for a fake date with my fake boyfriend, but I choose not to let my thoughts linger on that little fact, and shoot him a flirty wink instead.
“Be ready to have the hottest date there, Little Reed. I happen to look damn good in a suit.”