Mrs. Vale stands and makes her way to the hook that holds her coat and purse. “It’s getting late. I should be getting back to the hotel. Dashiell, will you be sleeping here?”
“You’re both welcome to stay, Mom,” Briar says. “You don’t have to go.” Briar shoots a helpless look toward Asher, and the rest of us take that as our cue to give Briar and her mom some privacy.
I go to take a piss while everyone else heads toward the kitchen. When I come out, Mrs. Vale is gone. Sutton is standing in between Dash and Adrian, Ash and Briar are still in the living room, huddled closely on the couch, speaking in hushed tones. And Logan? She’s sitting back at the kitchen table fucking with her phone, staring at it like it’s a Rubik’s Cube that she can’t solve.
“Having trouble there?” I ask, taking a seat next to her. She tosses her phone into the bag at her feet with an annoyed expression.
“I was trying to figure out this music app my brother downloaded, but technology is not my friend.”
“That’s refreshing. Most girls’ phones are an extension of them.”
“Not this girl. I don’t even know where it is half the time.” She laughs before something across the room catches her attention. “Which one do you think is interested? I can’t tell.” I follow her gaze to see that she’s focused on the Sutton sandwich.
“My bet is on both. It’s kind of their thing.” I watch her carefully to see her reaction.
“You mean, like…” Lo pauses and looks between them, putting the pieces together.
“Yep. They’ve been known to share from time to time.”
“Well, all right,” she says before lifting her beer to her lips.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?”
“Not even a little. If they’re all on the same page, why not? Everyone’s always so worried about what other people will think,” she says, throwing me off. I never know what this girl is going to say, and it intrigues me. She intrigues me.
“Is that something you’re into?”
“Nah,” she says, lifting a shoulder, her finger circling the rim of her bottle. “Not my thing.”
“What is your thing?” I ask. I shouldn’t ask. Not because it’s too forward, but because I’m almost afraid of her answer. If she gets specific, I know I won’t be able to get the image out of my head. She licks her lips, her finger pausing its movement.
“I don’t know. I have lots of things.”
Her eyes fall to my hand that’s wrapped around my beer bottle, practically white-knuckling it from the sudden sexual tension.
“I have a thing for hands and forearms, for one.”
“That’s specific,” I say. Logan’s tiny hand reaches toward mine, peeling my fingers off the bottle before laying it flat on top of her palm. She uses her other hand to ghost her fingertips over the ink on my arm. She grabbed me with the familiarity of an old friend or a lover, and the way she traces the lines of my ink is almost…reverent.
“Do these have a special meaning?” she asks, her curious eyes lifting to mine.
“Nope. I just like them.”
“Good a reason as any. They’re beautiful.” Logan seems to realize she’s still holding on with one hand and stroking me with the other, and she pulls away, sitting a little straighter, and my palm drops, slapping against the wooden table.
I’m so focused on Logan that I don’t even notice Briar and Asher approaching until they’re already sitting at the table next to us.
Briar rolls her eyes, looking in her brother’s direction. “It’s like they don’t even try to hide it anymore.”
“What’s the point? Everyone knows.” Ash shrugs.
“The point is that he’s my brother, and Adrian’s practically related to us, too. I don’t want to know about their sex lives. And I still can’t believe you knew and never told me.”
Asher shoots me a baffled look, and I just smirk.
“You just said you didn’t want to know,” he points out.
“Well, yeah, but she doesn’t want you to keep things from her, either,” Logan chimes in.