Page 56 of Forget Me Not

Famous last words, I guess.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

Logan

“Hey, best friend of mine. Fancy seeing you here.” I turn at the voice, surprised to see Demi sitting on the lobby couch of Blackheart Ink as I walk in. She has her legs kicked out onto the coffee table and a lollipop in her mouth.

“Well, hi best friend of mine. What are you doing here?” I walk over to sit down on the chair next to her.

“Asher lost a bet, so I’m owed tacos from that food truck down the street that I love. Possibly ice cream too, if I can talk him into it. Which I’m pretty sure I can.” She smiles.

“Interesting. And what was this bet?”

“I was his wingwoman the other night. He wanted a no-strings hookup. I picked the perfect girl. She was hot, and she kept looking over at him with the look. Not that ‘I want to marry you’kind. It was totally the ‘I want to fuck you, then forget you exist’kind. I mean, I was the perfect wingwoman, couldn’t have set him up better. But no, he wanted the blonde in the corner who was giving him ‘pick me, choose me, love me’ eyes all night.” She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I warned him it wasn’t a good idea. He told me I was wrong.”

“Ah. So, you bet him?” I chime in.

“Precisely.” She smiles. “I told him that if she even tried to ask for his number, then I was owed as many tacos as I could eat.”

“So, she asked for his number?”

“Oh, no. It was so much worse than that.” She snort-laughs. “So they went to her apartment, and they had sex. Then he gets up to leave, she obviously asks him to stay, and he says he has to get going. She asks for his number. He gives it to her. Such an asshole move, by the way, since it’s not like he’d ever answer her, but whatever. Then she starts telling him about how special their night was and how connected she felt to him. She says she can see a fucking future with him.”

“Uh-oh. To be fair, you did call it.”

“Oh no, just fucking wait. It gets worse.” She struggles to hold in her laughter as she keeps talking. “So, he’s practically sprinting out of her room and to the door while she falls in love with him. Then right when he’s almost out of there, her roommate walks in. Her roommate, who he just so happened to also fuck then ghost.”

“No.”

“Yes. So now he has two women screaming at him for what a dickwad he is. It was a solid half an hour before he finally got out of there, clearly traumatized. But anyway, I was right and now I get tacos.”

“That doesn’t even seem real.” I laugh with her.

“I wouldn’t have believed it myself if he hadn’t called me straight up freaking out from the car. I swear I thought he was going to cry.”

“I was not going to cry.” Asher walks out, joining the conversation. “But if I would have, I’d have every fucking right to. That shit was terrible.”

“Well, maybe stop sleeping with everything that has a pulse, and trust that I’m always right. Then maybe you won’t keeprunning into these issues.” Demi sticks her tongue out at him, then pops the lollipop she’s been holding back in her mouth. I watch his reaction. His eyes go straight to her lips, a hunger filling them only momentarily before it’s gone.

“Whatever. I’m parked in the back. Meet me out there when you’re ready,” he says to Demi. “Later, Lo.”

“Bye.” I wave. “So, you’re picking out his hookups now? You guys are really sticking to this whole friends thing.”

“Yeah, we are.” She smiles, but it lacks its usual Demi luster. “I better head out. He gets cranky when he’s hungry.” She stands up and I walk with her toward the back of the shop. “My brother is already upstairs, by the way. He finished a little while ago.”

“Thanks, Dem. Enjoy your tacos.” She waves as she walks out the door, and I turn to walk up the stairs. I get to the top and don’t bother knocking. I turn the doorknob and find it already unlocked for me.

“Hey, it’s me,” I call out as I walk in. I place my bag on the entryway table next to the door and take off my jacket and hoodie. I swear I’ll never get used to this type of cold after growing up in a place that rarely dropped below sixty degrees, but I’ve learned layers are key.

“Hey, I’m about to get in the shower just to rinse off real quick. I’ll be out in a few,” he yells from, I’m assuming, the bathroom. Now that I’m paying attention, I can hear the water already running.

“Take your time,” I yell back, walking into the kitchen. I’ve had the worst headache all day that I just can’t seem to kick. I open up the kitchen cabinets, searching for some ibuprofen. I’d say I’m more than comfortable in Kade’s home, but the kitchen is probably the place I’m least familiar with. Probably because he never lets me close enough to risk me burning something. Can’t say I blame him.

I climb on top of the counter to open the cabinet above the fridge that I can’t reach. Sure enough, there’s a bottle of Tylenol sitting right at the front of it. I pull the bottle out of the cabinet and go to close it, but something catches my eye. An old phone sits on the top shelf in the corner.

I’ve never been one to pry into people’s business before, especially because I hate when others do it to me. But there’s something that has my brain screaming at me to look at the phone. I slide it out of the cabinet. I figure if it’s dead, I’ll just leave it alone. But it’s not dead, and it’s on, the lock screen popping up as soon as I click it.

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