D: No plans. What’s up?
L: I need a wingman tonight.
I halfway wonder what he’s up to because Logan isn’t the type to go out unless asked, but I don’t question him and agree to meet him at Good Times for cheap drinks and music. At least it will give me time to think about what I’ll say to Courtney.
After I change into some blue jeans and a button-up shirt, I hesitate outside of Courtney’s room. It’s one of our Thursday traditions when my days off fall on a weekend. There were many Fridays where she’s played wingman and had to literally drag her ass to work hungover, but she refuses to call in, and she’s never late. I smile thinking about all the good times we’ve had together over the last few years and realize that each time I’ve gone out with her, I’ve never left with anyone. Isn’t that the purpose of a wingman? We’ve never had a real argument, and she’s never tried persuading me to think a certain way about a specific topic or people. There’s zero manipulation when we’re together and I can actually be myself without worry or care. There’s no comparison between her and Mia. Courtney puts me first and will always be there for me just as much as she’s been there for Viola. That’s one thing that will never change—no matter what.
I grab my keys from the counter and glance at the groceries that are sitting haphazardly in a paper bag on the kitchen table. Before leaving, I put the perishables and chicken in the refrigerator and the canned goods in the pantry where they belong. It looks like Mia was going to make some sort of chicken parmesan and that’s when I realize I haven’t eaten dinner. I grab some prepped chicken out of the fridge and pop it in the microwave for a few minutes. After I eat, I head toward Good Times and the only person who’s on my mind is Courtney. She’s taken hold of me, and I can’t seem to shake her from my thoughts, and weirdly enough, I don’t want to.
When I arrive, the parking lot is full, which isn’t surprising considering it’s also ladies’ night. I walk into the building and see Logan sitting alone at the bar, and I can’t help but laugh because he looks awkward as hell, like a tiger surrounded by sheep. He’s sitting up straight and rigid, his back facing the room, and there’s an underlying message telling everyone to leave him the fuck alone. That’s the ex-marine in him speaking.
I walk up and place my hand on his shoulder, and he turns around like he’s going to break my neck.
“Whoa, chill,” I say.
“Just making sure you weren’t some prick who wanted his ass kicked,” Logan says, and a small smile hits his lips before he takes a drink of his whiskey.
“You need another drink and to relax just a bit. Everyone in here is scared shitless of you.”
He looks around, then pops an eyebrow up at me completely unamused. That’s when I lose my shit and burst out into hearty laughter. He’s used to my antics. It causes him to smile, and I sit down beside him, considering there are a handful of free stools on both sides.
Logan orders another whiskey and doesn’t really say much, but I’m all smiles. He’s the worst wingman ever because he’s scaring everyone away, even the women.
“How’s the roommate?” he says, glancing over at me.
I narrow my eyes, knowing where this is going. I haven’t told anyone about the night of the wedding, not even Travis. But Logan has a sixth sense or some shit, and he’s always using it to his advantage. Honestly, he’s just good at reading people.
“She’s good,” I say, ordering a drink.
“Yeah?” He’s smiling when he notices I stiffen just slightly.
I give him a side look and shoot down the whiskey in one big gulp.
A woman sits down next to me and tries to make small talk.
Logan leans over and speaks over the music. “Hey babe, he’s taken.”
Her cheeks go pink, and she awkwardly walks away.
“I’m not with Mia anymore,” I say, ordering another drink.
“I wasn’t talking about Mia,” Logan says, turning around, actually acknowledging he’s in a bar with music, dancing, and people.
I give him a confused look, and he grabs his new drink from the bar top and twists back around.
Before taking a sip, he shoots me his signature smirk and looks me dead in the eyes, speaking just loud enough for me to hear.
“I was talking about the roommate.”
Kayla isn’t going to let me sit around to swim in my feelings, and I’m thankful for her friendship. After my nap, I realize how stupid I was to ever think there could be more between Drew and me, especially considering he doesn’t remember a lick of the best sex I’ve ever had. I let out a laugh because it’s my luck.