Page 9 of The Breakaway

I hesitated for a moment, glancing around the house. "Where's Rob?"

"At class. That or he isn’t up yet.”

Probably the latter. I kissed him again, but even that couldn't shake the strange shifting in my gut. "Logan, I need to talk to you about something." I pulled back to look at him. "I don’t love this. The fact that you’re leaving. That I have to live here with Rob."

Logan frowned. "What do you mean? Rob's a good guy, Shar. He won't bother you."

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. "That's not the point. He—”He hates me. He tried to get you to break up with me.“He’s negative and grumpy. All the time. Logan. Without you here?—"

Logan ran a hand through my hair. "You think he’s negative?”

I gaped at him. “Yeah. On Sunday, he greeted us with ‘Morning, shitheads.’”

Logan laughed. “That’s just Rob.”

Kind of my point, but I kept my mouth shut. Logan just didn't get it. He didn't understand how it felt to be constantly on edge, to feel like you were walking on eggshells in your own home.

"What if we came up with some ground rules?" Logan nudged my chin so he could drop his head into the hollow of my neck. "Like, no parties at the house, no bringing random people over. No telling you you’re a shithead."

I laughed. “I doubt he’ll go for that.”

Logan lay back on the couch, pulling me with him. “Rule number four: no coming home wasted.” He reached his hands up the back of my shirt. “Number five: no farting in public spaces.”

I snorted. “Where were these rules when we moved in together?” Logan feigned offence, and I jabbed my fingers into his ribs. “Rule number six: no leaving the seat up. Number seven: must be fully clothed.”

Logan gripped my wrists. “You don’t want to see me naked?”

I grunted, trying to twist away from him and failing. “No, I don’t want to see Rob. He’s always walking around with his shirt off.”

Logan’s hands relaxed a little, his face becoming more serious. “That bothers you?”

I grinned. “No, not bothers. It’s just—he could put a shirt on.”

Logan pushed up to lean against the arm of the couch. I sat up, straddling him.

He ran a hand through his now barely damp hair. “Do you notice other guys like that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Logan?—”

“No, I’m serious. Rob isn’t unattractive.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to disguise the hammering of my heart. “And how would you know that?”

“Because.” He gave me a look that said,isn’t it obvious?No. No, it was not obvious, and I was suddenly itching for him to make his case.

I swallowed hard. “Logan, I don’t look at other guys like that. Do you look at other girls?”

He scoffed. “That’s different.”

My eyes widened. “Different?”

He realized his misstep, his throat working. “No, I just mean, women are beautiful. Works of art. Guys are . . .” He exhaled in a rush. “Never mind. I’ll just tell Rob to put on a shirt.”

The simmering in my gut had grown to a full, uncomfortable boil. “Great. Thanks.” I shifted off him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Where are you going?”

I rounded the end of the table and planted my hands on my hips. “I need to get in some practice. Before rehearsal.”

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