Chapter 4
Ismacked my palms together as I walked down the streets of Jefferson, trying to channel nonchalance, even though I was anything but… chalant. Was that a word? I had no idea. Logan would know.
My heart skipped a beat upon thinking his name.
Logan. It was funny how quickly my obsession with a five-letter name had grown.
My insides would do a happy dance when he’d text me, and I’d practically squeal with excitement when the phone call from him popped up on my phone every night. Logan. It was just too perfect.
He was just too perfect. Being with him felt like the beginning of summer all over again, filled with warmth and sunshine and the unknown.
Except I still hadn’t figured out a good ship name.
I’d never had a true crush before, and I blamed that for my complete lack of dignity. At least my English teacher would be proud of all my dorky, corny metaphors. Jade would be horrified.
I grabbed the café’s metal door handle, drawing in a deep, steadying breath as I tamped down my excitement. Cool, Madison, I told myself. Calm. Collected. And with that, I wrenched Expresso Café’s door open.
The air conditioning hit me immediately, a blast of freshness to replace the awful humidity.
The café itself was more industrial style than cozy, with exposed pipes and ductwork along the ceiling to create an edgier vibe.
The walls were all exposed brick, except for the front, which was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the tables in sunshine.
I’d only come to visit Logan at work a handful of times since meeting him, but now, there was no separating the space from him. The two went hand in hand, and the second I stepped through Expresso’s door, I felt infinitely lighter.
And then I spotted the boy behind the counter.
Logan lifted his golden head, lips moving before his eyes followed.
“Hey, welcome in—” And then he stopped. His lips parted, as they always did when he spotted me—it was a consistent sort of shock that morphed his face, as if me coming to him was something to be stunned about. I found it totally adorable.
One other thing I could always count on: Logan’s instant, puppy-dog-like smile. It was like a switch flipping, blooming across his mouth. Warm, happy welcome, instantly reliable.
Logan threw his arms out wide, and in a loud voice, he announced, “There she is!”
Every single head in the café turned toward the door—toward me.
Granted, there were only a handful of people lingering past seven o’clock. A couple in their twenties sitting at one of the window booths. An elderly man with his laptop in the back corner. A middle-aged woman at the counter, pivoting with cash clutched in her outstretched hand.
I fought the urge to cringe at the sudden, dramatic attention, feeling my ears burn. That was Logan’s one downside. He could be so… dorky.
“I was wondering if I’d get to see you today,” he went on, speaking to me from across the room like we were the only two people in the world. “What a lovely surprise.”
The woman in front of him cleared her throat.
Logan chuckled a little at her impatience, waving at a section of empty tables while simultaneously taking her cash. “Sit, sit,” he said to me, still not shedding his grin. “Give me one sec.”
He actually didn’t need to tell me twice. The twenty-something couple watched me as I crossed the floor to one of the empty booth seats, and I sank down, fighting the urge to crouch lower.
The sound of the coffee grinder roared to life, filling the small space. I had an awkward angle of Logan from where I sat, so I had to crane my head to watch him work. The Expresso’s uniform was a solid red polo paired with a black apron that hung from his neck and tied around his waist.
Jefferson colors, yuck, but I couldn’t help but imagine what he’d look like in Brentwood Blue.
Logan glanced over then, our gazes locking. My stomach flipped.
He’d look drop-dead gorgeous. Duh.
Logan disappeared briefly behind the coffee machine again, drawing it to life, and my legs bounced underneath the table for a few more minutes before he rounded the counter.
“Your usual,” he said to me, setting the cold drink down in front of me. “But decaf. It’s a little late for espresso.”
“My usual?” I murmured, finally able to shake off some of the embarrassment.
“Two pumps vanilla, almond milk, light ice.” Logan hummed as he slid into the booth across from me. “You’re predictable.”
“I prefer consistent.”
His eyes danced. “Right.”
Logan was dangerous for me. If my heart kept fluttering like this, I’d go into cardiac arrest. I took a long pull from the iced coffee, all the sweet notes practically dancing across my tongue.
“Why did you do that?” I asked him, scrunching my nose as I tipped my head toward the door. “Make a scene like that.”
“You’re a cheerleader,” he said cheerfully. “Aren’t you used to attention?”
“Not that kind of attention.”
“What kind?” A knowing smile crossed his lips. “Did I embarrass you?”
“No,” I said immediately, but it was a total lie.
Jade would’ve been cringed out if she saw him do that, honestly.
The girls at cheer practice would’ve probably all giggled and tittered, but not in a nice way.
In wow, what a loser way. “When you meet my friends tomorrow, it might be a good idea to… tone it down a bit.”
Logan laced his fingers together and laid his hands on the table. “Noted.” His eyes drifted from my face to my frame. “Brave of you to be sporting Brentwood blue in enemy territory.”
I looked down at my Brentwood Babe sweatshirt, the one we got from our cheer camp a few weeks ago. Even though it was hot out, there was something comfortable about school spirit. But Logan was right; Expresso’s was totally Jefferson territory.
“You’ll defend me,” I said. “Since you’re joining my side starting tomorrow.”
“I’m more of a Golden Retriever than a Doberman, I’m afraid.”
“Give me your best intimidation face.”
Logan thought about that for a moment before attempting to wipe any trace of expression, scrunching his eyebrows together. But it so didn’t work. He looked like he was fighting off a smile.
I gave a mock-disappointed sigh. “Yeah, we’ll save the resting B face to me.”
He gave a light laugh. The sound could’ve passed for music they played over the speakers. “So, how was practice?” he asked. “Did Jade play drill sergeant again?”
“A little. It’s funny you already picked up on that. Do I talk about her a lot?”
Logan tipped his head side to side. “Here and there.”
Weird. I hadn’t even noticed. “She’s my best friend, so I guess it makes sense. But just—ah. Don’t tell her I told you she’s a drill sergeant.” I couldn’t imagine that going over well, even though when I’d told Logan, it’d just been a joke. “She did bring you up to everyone at practice, though.”
His lips lost their curve. “What’d she say?”
“She just bragged you up. Everyone’s excited to meet you.
” I shook my iced coffee, glancing around the somewhat empty café, and leaned in.
Logan immediately mimicked me, tilting across the small table until our faces came close.
“You’re going to blow up on Babble. That’s the school’s gossip site—Brentwood Babble. People are going to love you.”
I could already see all the posts and threads about him. Logan had a face that people would love to take pictures of, and soon, the online pages of Babble would be filled with his cute, dimply, puppy-dog grin. Well, filled with him and me. We’d be all anyone talked about—the new Campus Couple.
I blinked, a thought resurfacing. “Is chalant a word?”
I hadn’t realized I’d gotten lost in my thoughts until I found Logan looking at me strangely.
Well, strange might not have been the right word—his expression was just different from the one I normally saw on him.
There was no curve to his mouth or his eyes; instead, he just watched me blankly, as if he’d been lost in thought, too. “Chalant,” he repeated.
“Like, the opposite of nonchalant?”
And then, distantly, there was a spark in his eyes, silent for a beat. “No,” he said, tilting his head into a knuckle, a small smile touching his lips. “It’s not a word.”
I shrunk my shoulders toward my ears. “Oh.”
“But we can make it a word.” Logan propped his elbows onto the table and lowered his voice, as if we were sharing a secret. “What are you chalant about, Madison?”
I took the straw of my drink between my teeth. “You.”
Every time I tried to flirt with Logan, it always left him flustered.
It was like his brain emptied, leaving him to do nothing but blink at me, lips parted.
It sort of was reminiscent of the stunned way he looked when I came into Expresso’s, like something about the situation struck him, and struck him hard.
He swallowed—he actually swallowed. “That was my line.”
“It sounded better on my lips.”
And then, just as I’d intended, Logan’s gaze dropped to my curving mouth. Lips. It was such a strange word, one I wouldn’t have thought sounded intimate before Logan. Despite how still I sat, my heart slammed in my chest, the iced coffee nearly slipping from my grip.
“Logan,” a voice called. We both turned to find a boy standing behind the counter, wearing the Expresso’s combo of a black apron and red polo. His black hair was short, and even though he had on black glasses, his flat expression was clear. “Dude.”
I blinked at him, because in the few times I’d visited Logan at work, I’d never seen this guy before. I hadn’t even realized there was another person here tonight. When I’d burst through the doors, my attention had zeroed in on Logan immediately.
“Five minutes,” Logan called to him, already in the process of turning back to me.
But his coworker wasn’t letting go that easily. “You’re not getting paid to flirt.”
“Five minutes.” This time, Logan’s voice was laced with hidden meaning.
The coworker’s eyes slid to me before he rolled them, the disdain clear.
“What’s his deal?” I asked Logan.