Instead, he’d seemed to step into Brandon’s role and been carefully keeping distance between them.
Which proved he wasn’t the huge dick—no pun intended—that his text messages had first presented him as . . . but she already knew that. He’d shown that within a few minutes of them meeting in person. He didn’t need to keep proving he was a good guy.
In fact, she’d like some of that dick to—
Stop.
She’d been missing Brandon and Cassie, now she had Logan. Maybe he simply wasn’t interested in her as more than a friend.
Well, that wasn’t a maybe.
That was a certain.
He’d held doors for her, occasionally touched her arm. He texted funny stuff, saw her every night. He knew about her ridiculously happy parents, her double major in math and computer science. She knew about his favorite movies, that his injury had been to his hip, that he’d decided to go back to school and study biology.
But there wasn’t an undercurrent of heat between them.
She might have longing, but he wasn’t carrying a torch for her.
Stifling a sigh, she reached to pick up her plate, but Logan nudged her away. “I got them. It’s late and you’ve got that that important work meeting tomorrow.”
It was true she was meeting with Heather again the next day, but—
“I can help—”
He nodded to the door. “Shoo.”
“I should—”
The plate dropped to the table. “Lori.” He sighed.
Her brows drew together. “What’s the matter?”
His chin dropped to his chest, a long, slow breath escaped his lips. “Lori, honey,” he murmured. “You need to go.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment. “I can wash—”
Hot brown eyes flew up to meet hers. “Go.”
She shook her head, not certain why he was upset—
“Lori.” It sounded like it was ground out between his teeth.
“What? What did I do?”
“Fuck.” He thrust his hands into his hair, turned and paced away, eyes on the window. She crossed to him, placed a hand on his arm. His head whipped around so fast that she took several steps back. He looked absolutely furious. “I’m trying to be good here, Lori. I’ve spent the last few weeks dreaming of you, wanting you, jerking off to the mental image of stripping those ridiculous pajamas off your sexy body. I get that you don’t want me, but—”
“What?”
“I know you want me to be a friend, like Brandon was,” he said, turning around to face her. “But I can’t just be around you all the time and not want to—” Logan paced away again.
“You want me?”
Brown eyes over his shoulder. “Go, Lori.”
“But I thought you didn’t want me.” She strode around in front of him, shoving him back lightly. “I’ve been over here every night in my fancy sneakers and you’ve been friend-zoning the shit out of me.”
“Um, no,” he said. “You’ve been friend-zoning me.”