Chapter Eleven #3
He nods. “Biker brat and all, I was working in the shop then. Being the tidy-up lacky and shit. They taught me the basics until I became an apprentice, grew my skills, and became proficient at drawing and slinging ink. Now I do shit like this…” Logan rolls up his sleeve a little higher to show me a portrait of a young boy, maybe in his teens.
I furrow my brows, trying to figure out if it’s a portrait of him or not.
It looks like him, but not quite. Either way, it is incredible. So lifelike.
“Wow! Logan, that’s beautiful…” I pause when I see the date underneath, and I run my finger over the obvious memorial. Swallowing hard, I look up at him to see his usual cheery smirk gone.
“Carter… he was fourteen when he died. I just started working at the tattoo shop and wanted to do the portrait for him, but all I could manage was fucking Donald Duck and a shitty one at that.”
Swallowing hard, I sigh, move my hand from his arm to his hand, and squeeze it gently in a show of support. “He was your friend?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “My brother.”
My chest tightens, and I lace my fingers with his. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs. “Lymphoma, bitch of a thing. Mom was…” He takes a deep breath and changes direction. “Well, the club was there for us yet again. We’d be lost without them, Alex.”
I nod once, my heart aching with a sadness I didn’t expect.
Logan’s bravado, his larger-than-life ego, it’s all a carefully constructed mask to hide his pain.
I see it now—clearly. It hits me how alike we are in that way.
My tattoos, piercings, and bold hair? They’re my version of armor, a shield to keep the world from seeing the cracks underneath.
Poor guy. He’s fighting his battles the only way he knows how, just like me.
“Anyway, I waited, I drew, I studied. I got to be the best I could to give Carter the tribute he truly deserved.”
“It’s beautiful, Logan, really. Your artistry is incredible. Especially compared to the Donald days,” I tease, and he lets out a loud chuckle.
“Thanks. It took me hours to make sure his likeness was perfect. It’s him… before the treatments started. Before the cancer really took hold. It’s how I want to remember him. He was a good kid.”
I squeeze my hand in his as the waiter comes over. “Your menus for tonight. Once you’ve decided, just raise your hand when you’re ready, and I’ll come over to take your orders.”
“Thank you so much,” I reply, taking my menu and our hands separate as Logan takes his. I pull in a deep breath and look down at the menu, thinking that everything looks super fancy. I’d rather have Mexican any day.
Logan chuckles slightly, and I glance up at him and smirk. “So, you ah… come here often, Alex?” he asks, and I grin.
“Um… honestly, I’ve never been here before. A friend recommended it to me, but the menu seems kinda fancy to me.”
He tilts his head and shrugs. “You only live once, right? It might be fancy, but it’s worth a try. I mean, it’s gotta be okay if rock stars like it here, right?”
“Wait! What?”
He tilts his head toward Matt and smirks. “Didn’t wanna say anything in case you totally ditched me for the famous guy over there, but I’m pretty sure that’s the bassist from Recoil with the bombshell.”
I sink into my seat slightly and sigh as Logan looks back at me and chuckles.
“But hey, don’t worry, you’re way better looking than her.
And, to be honest, Recoil kinda sucks anyway.
Their music is so… meh. It’s not hard enough for me, you know what I mean?
” he asks, and I have to try really hard not to burst out laughing.
I nod and continue to look over the menu, figuring if there’s some type of steak, knowing it’s a safe option.
“God, I hope they have steak. I need some meat.” Logan looks up at me and opens his eyes wide. “Shit! You’re not a vego are you?”
“God, no. I was just thinking the same thing. Steak sounds good.”
“Ha, you and me…” he points to me, then himself, “… we’re gonna get along just fine, Alex,” he says, throwing his hand into the air and looking for the waiter.
He comes over and looks at Logan, who smiles at me as if asking for my permission to speak.
I giggle and nod as he straightens his shoulders and clears his throat.
“Okay, so we’re not fancy people. We’re average run-of-the-mill, so we don’t need bells and whistles. Just a couple of steaks, medium—”
I interrupt, “Can I get mine medium-rare, please?”
“Sorry, medium-rare for the lady, with some awesome potatoes and veggies. Can we get that?” he asks, and I stifle my laugh.
The waiter looks at me, and I dip my chin in agreement with a smile. “Of course, sir. Anything else?”
Logan looks at me, so I blurt out, “And some garlic bread… with cheese!”
Logan’s eyes widen, and he nods. “Hell, yes, I’m loving this idea. And don’t be stingy with the garlic. If we’re gonna stink, we may as well both reek.”
The waiter nods and turns to walk off, but I gain his attention once more. “Oh, and one more thing…” The waiter turns around. “Can you bring us some beer, please? No more champagne.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says as Logan chuckles, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.
“Ah, Alex, you know me so well already. I’m not sure if we should stay for the steak or whether I should take you home right now.”
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “Easy, tiger. Remember to keep your massive ego in check.”
He grins, unrepentant. “Kidding… ish.”
Shaking my head, I glance over at Matt. He’s watching Jaci, his expression soft, almost like he’s lost in her. Something twists in my chest, a mix of hope and a pang of something else.
Jealousy? Maybe.
It’s stupid, really.
I want them to get along—I should want that.
But a small, selfish part of me can’t help but wonder if I’ll lose the sense of comfort Matt brings me if Jaci becomes his whole world.