Page 10 of Hypothetical Heart
“Okay, but I don’t think that means you need to read it.”
I haven’t even readBillionaire Baby Daddyyet, but if I had to take a guess, it’s probably not going to be the most PG book in terms of sexual content.
“You don’t think so?” he asks.
“I don’t think you would find anything redeeming about that book.”
Sure, I find my beloved romance novels redeeming on an entertainment level and getting to fawn over swoon-worthy billionaires who give their girl everything she’s ever wanted, but I don’t think Logan would have that same experience.
“Well, I’ll never know if I don’t try.” He smirks.
“So, you’re going to readBillionaire Baby Daddy?” I’m partially hoping that my pessimistic tone will sway him against reading it, but I know I’m not that lucky.
“Yup,” Logan says with the click of his tongue. “Who knows, we might have to form a book club afterward.”
“Doubtful.” I love Logan. I truly do. He’s my absolute best friend, but I know for a fact that he is never going to pick up another book if he even makes it through this one.
“I’ll keep you updated.” He grins, standing from the couch and walking into the kitchen. “Do you want some ice cream?”
“Sure, what are my options?” I get up from the ottoman, changing seats so that I can sit on one of the kitchen island barstools.
“The usual,” he replies.
The usual ice cream flavors available in the Callaghan house are practically every flavor you could imagine due to Kai and Logan’s ice cream addictions.
“Well, then I’ll take my usual.”
He heads for the door to the garage, where the chestfreezer containing all the ice cream is. “Mackinac Island Fudge, coming right up.”
When all of us were little, the Callaghan ice cream selection was always a big motive for why we wanted to sleepover at Logan’s house.
Throughout the years, there have been many nights where my sweet tooth solution was only the next house over, and I’ve ended up in the Callaghan’s kitchen for a late-night treat.
That is just one of the many perks of living next door to Logan.
“Thank you.” I smile when he sets the bowl in front of me.
“Don’t forget your favorite spoon.” He opens the silverware drawer, pulling out a silver spoon whose handle is engraved with small bows and bunnies.
I laugh, taking the spoon from him. Logan has always picked up on the smallest of my preferences, even down to noticing which spoon I tend to grab from the silverware drawer.
It’s something I’ve always found endearing about him, but in all honesty, what is there not to find endearing about Logan Callaghan?
It’s moments like these where my tiny crush for Logan gets the best of me, and I catch myself wondering how things would be if we were to date.
I don’t dwell on it for long, though, knowing that a future with Logan Callaghan is about as likely as a future with James Dean only makes me more upset the longer I think about it.
I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt my heart a bit. Yet, I can’t even be mad at him for it because I know it’s because of me that we aren’t together.
He’s the one who was willing to try and confessed his feelings full-heartedly. While I was the one who saw the first sight of where it could go wrong, and ran for the hills.
I watch as Logan makes himself a bowl of ice cream, mixing together a multitude of different flavors, before sitting on the barstool next to me.
“Hey guys,” Jameson greets as he enters the kitchen. He pulls the dinner pan out of the stove and a plate out of the cabinet, making himself a late plate.
“Where have you been?” Logan asks, even though we already know the answer.
“Genevieve’s,” he answers.
