Logan’s phone vibrates in his jacket as he exits the room where he was treating a little boy with a sinus infection. Fishing it out of his pocket, he peeks at the caller ID and sees Austin is on the line.
“Hey, man.”
“Hey, Logan. Do you want to go bowling tonight?” he asks hopefully.
“Bowling?”
“Yea, this chick I met said she’ll be there with some friends tonight.”
Logan chuckles into the phone, having already figured there had to be a good reason why Austin wanted to go bowling. To Austin – chicks are a good reason.
“Sure that sounds good. What time?”
“Seven, I think.”
“Alright, meet you there.”
Glancing at the clock, he realizes he has about an hour and a half before he needs to meet Austin. Logan hastily grabs his helmet and rushes out the office doors, charging his way home.
Walking into the bungalow he rents from Al, Logan chucks his keys into the small bowl on the hallway table and moseys down the hall to his bedroom. The house is bigger than what he needs, but it was available and Al gave him a heck of a deal in return for some handiwork on the place. It’s a four bedroom, two and a half bath, 1940’s craftsman, desperately in need of a complete overhaul. It’s been a long process as he has slowly worked to finish his projects, but at last, all that remains are the full guest bathroom and the hardwood floors both upstairs and down. Logan had planned on simply refinishing them, but there was too much water damage after a previous tenant let the washing machine overflow. He makes a mental note to finish laying the hardwoods this weekend.
Stripping off his work clothes, he twists his shower knobs hoping to wash away his thoughts of Avery as Logan focuses on the group of girls he and Austin are going to meet. The water cools too quickly and he’s forced to shorten his cleansing.
Tugging on a pair of jeans and a short sleeve Henley-style shirt, Logan slides on some shoes before grabbing his keys and a bottle of water and heading out the door. He slides into the BMW, anxious to meet a potential bed-warmer, and heads speedily towards his destination.
The bowling alley is fairly full when he arrives and he searches the lanes for his friend. Austin’s Viking stature is usually a dead giveaway, but he is nowhere to be found, at least from Logan’s view. As Logan turns on his heels to head to the food counter, he sees Austin duck out of the door leading to the men’s bathroom.
“Hey, man,” Austin shouts from a distance.
Logan meets him halfway and shakes his hand in a friendly gesture.
"Hey, Austin. Did you see the girl that dragged you and me here?"
"Yea, she's over in lane ten," he adds sheepishly.
Logan’s gaze scans the room until he lands on lane ten and he immediately bursts into obnoxious laughter.
"I know, I know," Austin adds shamefacedly, looking down at the floor.
"Dude, she's like barely eighteen and here with her family."
"Well, I didn't know that when I overheard her."
"Obviously."
"Do you still want to play?"
"I'm here, might as well. I could go for a beer and some pizza, and maybe some nachos, too."
They exchange their shoes, order a few pitchers of beer and head to their designated lane. Neither of them has played since they were younger, so they’re definitely rusty at first, but a couple rounds and a few beers in, they get the hang of it.
It's Austin's turn at the lane, and while he waits, Logan occupies himself watching a rowdy group of cowboys farther down the room enjoying themselves with their ladies. That's when he feels it - that inexplicable pull, that prickling that travels down his neck and out through his toes, causing the baby fine hairs on his body to stand on end.
Thinking that the air conditioning in the building has clicked onto full blast, he glances up, but quickly realize that the AC isn't the reason for the chill as sweat drips off of his brow and Austin's. Logan scans the room, beginning with the cowboys, and works his way toward the entrance. He shakes his head to clear himself of the sensation, but it does little good. Logan had just begun thinking that he’s imagining the feeling, but then suddenly he sees her. She is standing at the front desk, exchanging worn black Chuck Taylors for ill-fitted bowling shoes. Her soft, satiny hair flows in glorious waves down her back, stopping right above the waist of her perfectly-fitted jeans. Enraptured, he can't help but continue to stare in her direction as her petite blonde friend, whom he realizes is Nikki, says something to make her chuckle. The movement causes the waves in her hair to bounce against her back, like a ripple in motion.
"Your turn," Austin announces, slapping him on the shoulder to garner his attention.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. My turn," Logan replies but makes little effort to move from his seat, completely captivated by the